The Boys: Rise of The Elite

The Supe Insurrectionist

Somewhere in Vancouver, in one of the poorer ghettos stood a man in thick green, metal armor, not unlike something from a science fiction video game franchise. Unlike the video game it seemed to be based off, the armor sported runes, particularly runes from pre-Christion European religion. On the top of his helmet, just above his visor, there was the sonnenrad rune, otherwise known as the Black Sun rune—painted on in White. On each thick, studded pauldron of his armor, there was the Tiwaz rune in the middle. And at the very top of his helmet, just above the triangular, transparent, aluminum visor, there was a camera, a sort of go-pro streaming device of sorts, used to stream video of what the person would be doing from a first-person perspective.

The ghettos were primarily populated by Southeast Asian immigrants, who came to Canada for better living conditions. Various neon signs with oriental lettering made that clear. The roads were cracked and run down; the buildings and tenements, made in the thirties, were also ruined. Very much like the rest of the district, the cars were merely functioning wrecks, running on ramshackle components, old and beaten up from a few decades prior, probably older than the hulking armored man.

To further compliment the slum, the sky was dark and cloudy, in spite of the fact it was noon, at the beginning of summer time. Droplets of rain covered the armored man's visor, but fortunately for him, his camera was water proofed, thanks to the people who were backing him or if he made it himself to be such.

With all of these factors, one would hope the armored man, or The Slayer as he went by online, would feel sympathy for these people. But unlike most people who would see them as victims of circumstance, The Slayer seen it as a symptom of their inferior intellect compared to European Westerners, very much like many on the far-right have for almost a century.

Reaching at the back, he grabbed something. It was a gun, a shotgun, made by an unknown manufacture. The gun, very different from most shotguns, had two tubes and two barrels. However, like most shotguns, it was a pump-action, very similar to what the civilians and police officers used across the globe.

Cocking it, he said, "Remember lads, subscribe to Pewdiepie!"

Then, as soon as that phrase was uttered a man was shot in the back. A loud squelching of flesh could be heard as the rounds from the double-barrel pump-action tore the man in half, sending one part of his torso left and the other, lower part right, streams of crimson and entrails in opposite directions in the air.

With that bloody, brutal display of carnage, people were running, screaming, grabbing their phones to call 9-11.

To their dismay, he cocked his shotgun, unloading two, red and brass, smoking, deformed tubes of plastic as he aimed at the people running for their lives.

As those smoking shells hit the ground and tumbled, more people were killed and maimed before they could run to safety. Pellets from the rounds ripped limbs off or just tore them in half like rounds from a fifty-caliber machine gun.

Before the police could even respond, fifty people were dead, their mutilated corpses filling the streets, blood washed away like a spilled drink from the heavy rain.

As soon as the police arrived, sirens wailing, a series of blue and red lights pulsating on the roof of their cruisers, they opened the doors, got out of their cars, and took cover behind their opened car doors.

Almost immediately, RCMP officials opened fire upon The Slayer, rounds bouncing off his armor in sparks and ripples on his skin.

Only seeming to notice he was being fired upon by the sounds of gunfire and the pinging of bullets colliding with metal, he turned, his menacing, hazel green eyes focused on the cops—plainly seen through his visor and holographic heads-up-display—even with the water droplets of the rain distorting the visual.