A suit shirt, jeans, Jordan's, Kevlar vest and security jacket really go well together. So well in fact it's comparable to not brushing your teeth or hair! Which I also did. I heard the other supers making jokes about 'that security guard' over 'there'. The saddest part was I didn't even need super hearing to hear them.

Two hours passed in the hostage situation before they wanted me to negotiate. Several men, probably Linguistic professors stood next to a phone with defeated expressions as I approached. I sighed and tried to calm my anxiety.

The Legion is legendary for it's violence and suicidal zeal of fighting for their 'rights'. A synopsis of their beliefs, however, is they think they are the supreme race and normal human beings should cease to exist. Yeah, I'm trying to negotiate with that. Not easy at all.

In combat, should I fail, they have insane pain tolerance. They are also unorthodox, one moment they are being lead the path of guerrilla warfare and then the next they are ordered or decide to fight to the death. Yeah, not fun.

The eyes of everyone who was close to me bore into me. The professors, Spider, Col. Sanders, Karver and others all watched. I picked up the phone and put my ear to it.

In a thick English-Spanish hybrid language he yelled something. In return I greeted him with a noble dialect and he stopped in surprise. The professors around me cringed, thinking that I had screwed up but they just didn't know the dialect.

*translated*

"Who is this?"

"It is Maverick comrade, a Vigilante of the Act. Now-"

"Shut it! How long have you been in the guild?"

"A few weeks-"

"Am I a dog?! Wait..."

He began to think, confused and I seized the opportunity.

"Sir, Kaiser and the Royals are dead. Why-"

*translation over*

He surprised me when he spoke in English.

"Be quiet."

The professors' jaws who heard dropped, there was only one case of billions of an Infected regaining a complete language. Krimson. The chief Lancer of the Legion's Royals and he's dead.

"I want you to understand what is coming. After we publish our propaganda we will, release the hostages and turn ourselves in."

"S-sir-"

"If you bring Krimson to me alive."

I sighed closing my eyes. Fate has already caught up? Why can't I just wish my devil of a past off my shoulder?

"Kaiser lives and tell me..." he asked, "who taught you that dialect?"

"I can't believe-" I started.

He interrupted, "Answer my questions or I cut negotiations."

"You didn't recognize my voice, Slaymore."

He screamed and swore, "Assassino! Hict sont lupi! You wanted demands! You will have them!"
(*Murderer! Here lie wolves!)

Before I hung up I was in high gear.

"We need to go in now!"

A window shattered and a phone smashed onto the ground.

"What did you do?! Whose Slaymore?!"  Karver roared.

"WE," I corrected, "did all that could be done!"

"WE," he matched, "can't do anything without the Chief Executive's approval. The SWAT isn't here yet either."

I looked at him in unbelief. The. Building. Was. Surrounded. By. Supers!

"Whose the executive?"

"The president." He snapped.

My face was a flat line as I looked side-to-side and leaned in...

"NO."

Everyone's eyes bulged from their skulls and their jaws hit the floor. Spider was speechless and Karver swore like a NAVY officer as I pushed my way to the skyscraper that housed one of the largest news institutions in the US. Crow saw the pandemonium, then me before cutting her talk with a cop short and coming through to take my wrist.

"What the hell are you doing?!" She shrieked.

"I'm goin' in. That's what."

The pandemonium stopped, eyes up as me and Crow bickered.

"You can't do that!"

Someone shrieked, but I didn't pay head, "Oh my God!"

"If you want to sit out here and watch be my guest!"

The crowd screamed and pointed in vain. The splash of a body that had a Molotov strapped to it broke Scarecrow's concentration and I went inside. They had tossed a woman out a window with a Molotov strapped to her in case she was caught.

Upon entering the lobby, it was high time I showed my true colors.

It wasn't until I reached the elevator that I heard two Imperial's talking and joking while one sharpened his machete. At this moment, my anger and zeal driving me faltered. Will Karver have my head? What will this team I only met yesterday think? I shook myself, the hostages have it much worse than me at the moment.

I focused a steely glare on the two Imperials leaning back in chairs. Their confused and surprised faces were priceless in the dim white light of the hall leading to the elevator. They shouted something at me in a Creole-English hybrid dialect, trying to scare me away. I stood, watching and waiting for them.

The worry from earlier of this stranger gave way to their ecstasy for killing. Their feet clomped towards me on the white tile floor and the machete goon swung first. I hate showing my true colors.

Before he got to me I drained the red auras of his life force as simple as lifting my hands from my pockets. He fell into a mummified husk at my feet and the machete clattered from his now bony fingers. The one with the bat stopped, turning pale as I walked over and casually picked up the machete and dramatically observed it before snapping it on my knee like a ruler. Bat-man, after a few seconds, comically dropped his bat and ran to the elevator.

My shadow loomed closer as he bashed on the fire escape, the elevator to slow coming from the top floor. I kept my arms crossed and casually leaned against the wall next to the elevator as the plants around me died and the thin skinned skeleton of a man clattered to the ground as the elevator door dinged open.

A shocked Imperial with an AR stepped out as the plants completely died. He was so concentrated on everything around him that he walked past me, jaw down. I checked my nails, sighed, and flicked my fingers towards him draining his life. I took the AR and slung it over my shoulder onto my back.

I stepped inside and clicked the highest button. The power coursed through me and I clamped my eyes shut in resistance. A campaign raged within me against the bloodlust, I am not a monster anymore. I popped my neck to resist the urge to blast this cursed elevator music.

I closed my eyes tighter as the elevator dinged open. I answered the exclamation of a Imperial with taking my hand from my pocket and blasting. I opened my eyes to a pile of red meatballs and my shoes scrunched over the boney and meaty blood puddle. Three sets of dumbfounded eyes met my steely ones as I took the AR off my back. I cocked the gun dramatically as one ran off, going to tell others of my assault no doubt.

One had a rifle and sidearm and the other was unarmed but the war began. The gunner hurried to raise his rifle as his partner leapt over the table they were sitting at and shoulder rolled to cover. Before he could shoot I released an automatic burst, tearing one of the gunner's arms off. Both behind cover the gunner tossed his buddy the automatic rifle. They tossed curses at me in dialects I was loosely familiar with and the wounded one spat blood.

I waited a moment behind a corner before walking out. Now they came up, one with an AA-14 and a ARS-17 and the wounded guy throwing a rock at me. I made a weak pulse-bubble from my free hand and bounced the 'rock' back at them. Even though Imperial's would literally fight with sticks and stones, they still know what a grenade is.

They screamed incoherently when their 'rock' turned them into gore ridden hunks. Still walking casually, I traded my AR for a AK-49 and a belt of grenades. Shouts grew closer before I casually propped myself in the corner beside the set of double doors and chewed my nails. Maybe they'll check their corners this time?

When they did I sucked their lead man's life away and used the power to push myself down the hall to the next door, knocking them over. I closed the door behind me and took a step to the side, waiting for them to find my present. I didn't get the chance to hear much screaming once the full belt of grenades blew off the door next to me and rolling a marred head into my area as that area collapsed.

I walked past several screens and walked faster when my arch-enemy came on screen.

"Friends, strangers, countrymen; greetings from Abbadon, High Kaiser of The Legion."

I past the golden haired boy with the visage of some Greek hero. His black leather hood was open, revealing a web of red bandages netting his torso, and his eyes... the devil's eyes.

"I live, after a betrayal much like Brutus," zipping up his jacket, "The governments will tell you that you are safe." He leaned closer in his seat, "I have come to tell you the truth. You. Are. Not. They lie, lie to all as governments have done for ages. Nazi's told the Jews they'd be humanely treated. The Spainards- the Aztecs, the Incas, the Huguenots and then America herself. What has America done? Lie to the Amerindians, Negroes, you, I and all your posterity in classrooms? Hundreds of years governments have done this yet they say I am tyrannical. Less than one-hundredth of the world rules how it spins and I am tyrannical?" He waved off the subject, "I have come to give you a promise. Rivers shall flow red, the space for the dead to be buried will disappear, and blood is the only thing that can quench the flames of my wrath."

I shoved open the main studios double doors as the transmission ended. The Imperials were surprisingly nonchalant as I came. Some were clipping off a woman's ring finger while others watched me calmly. I saw Slaymore in the center, cleaning a bloody knife he used on the bled out, gagged woman suspended by ropes on her wrists. He had watched it drip from her.

He looked at me with intelligence that I never saw in a Imperial before. He had long black, unkempt hair, dark tan skin, and a leather jacket with a wolf pelt as a hood. His eyes matched the wolf's.

"Hello, Maverick," he air quoted my new name in disgust. He shuddered from it he hated it so much, "May I call you by your real name?"

"Agent scum will suffice."

He smiled like a hyena, "Good, Agent Scum."

His smile faded and his soldiers readied their weapons. I said over the sound of the guns cocking,

"Slaymore! This is your last chance for surrender!"

"Why?" He said smugly, "Because your not the only one?"

The confidence in his voice put worry in the back of my mind. I didn't get much time to worry when the lights cut out. A cacophony of voices filled the darkness and I picked up that they were taking defensive positions.

A rain had set in outside so the only real light was the lightning and the thundering of our guns. We exchanged hails of razor rain for an entire two minutes in darkness and I screamed,

"Slaymore!"

"I'm here."

The lights came on and I saw his toothy grin. A rocket blew us apart before I could drain him but none of the people had rockets. Slaymore's voice hissed,

"Like the blessings of Kaiser?"

I struggled up as law enforcement entered the room and kept Slaymore's goons occupied. Just me, and Slaymore. He shot me with another arc of electricity before I just finally pieced it all together. He's a super.

I thought my head had fallen off before a hand grabbed my ankle. I absorbed the person's life on instinct to heal but looking down I realized to late it was one of the hostages.

I chastised myself and Slaymore happily joined in,

"Old habits die hard do they not? If my old friend Krimson were here he would have killed them all and then some."

I got up, ready this time, "I'm sorry that your friend changed."

"Don't be," electricity popped in his hands, "he's already dead."

When I jumped to the side I hit a black wall that wasn't there before. I sat up in panic only to see each of us encased in black orbs. Slaymore screamed in pain as he absorbed the power from some broadcasting equipment to stop the himself from burning. Turns out he hit this force field with a blast big enough to hurt himself. He pumped the shield with power and broke through before disappearing. Green energy came from the windows and turned goons into spaghetti topping. Some enemies were being grappled to something on the ceiling and many were shot with robotic accuracy from the windows.

I was glad to see Crow until I saw her glare. The remaining hostages gave thanks to God, cried for joy, or otherwise celebrated. Good for them, I'm about to get deep fried.