Armageddon: The Broken Man - ACT 1

Chapter 13 - Dress To Impress

Chapter 13 - Dress To Impress

>K

"Alice, is all black really necessary?"

Despite the odds, I'm back in the real world, crammed into the space between a rafter and the ceiling.

"Damian, the sequences are starting to activate, and I need Death's full support, even if it means acting a little ridiculous."

Silence is what allows my other senses to sharpen. Damian's visibly distressed, and Alice doesn't seem any better. She's dressed in some ridiculously formal black suit, with her hair pulled back in a braid, fully exposing her jade eyes. Damian looks pretty strange standing next to her; he's casual as ever, just chilling out in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

"Where are Scott and Oliver?"

The power of my own voice terrifies me; I could have sworn I only whispered, but the words echoed well throughout. Damian and Alice can only stare in awe at my perch, dumbstruck by something about me.

"Where are they?"

I just blinked, but I guess that's all the time my reflexes needed. I had pinned the both of them to the floor, and they didn't even look surprised. Alice even smiled.

"There's the Kathryn we know and love. They're both in the second quarter, probably still asleep."

//TIMESKIP//15__MINS//

I was frantic. Terrified, absolutely terrified.

I could see it happening.

I could see the way she poisoned their dreams, forcing them to train under the blinding Exalian lights. She was making more of me, more servants to obey her every beck and call.

Chaos couldn't even wait until they fell asleep.

She just pulled them right out of their bodies, and she couldn't be bothered to make sure they couldn't hurt themselves.

Scott fell down the stairs -- concrete stairs -- and has been bleeding from the head for at least 3 hours. Oliver was a little more lucky, and only face-planted through a bookshelf.

I can't even take them to the hospital. I looked in a mirror, and I'm stuck in my last life's form. I can't change anything, not even the color of a single strand of hair. I'm locked behind eyes of quicksilver and lilac, and tangled strands of titanium sable tie me where I stand.

God dammit, I let her win. I took my guard down, and look where that got me.

It could be worse, I guess. I could've been stuck in the full-on battle mode. I'd have to vent every last drop of energy to avoid becoming a timebomb. That would be hell.

I slipped on a jacket and sunglasses on my way out the door. Luckily, I won't get noticed until it's already far too late to stop me.

I kept my head down. Nonetheless, crowds broke to let me through. They didn't recognize me, not yet at least, but everything about me was off-putting.

The moderator gem in my pocket won't stop overheating. Chaos must have fought Death for it, but she probably dropped it and broke it. Gems -- especially moderators -- are highly fragile, so if you're not careful handling them, they won't work when you need them.

I didn't even notice my pickpocketing until I already had more than 400 extra dollars in cash. It was a habit, a reflex, and I couldn't be bothered to stop. I was broke anyways, and I could do with some new gear.

By the way, 'gear' can include anything from hunting knives to fast food, maybe even nice clothes if I felt like splurging.

By the end of the next day I was in DC. I had accumulated a few thousand dollars from wallet-snatching, and got to treat myself to a night in a hotel and a nice dinner, complete with peach cobbler dessert. I wore my sunglasses the entire time; if the waitress realized Kathryn Lavelark had ordered a peach cobbler, either I wouldn't pay for it, or I'd be spending the night in a penitentiary, after being gunned down over a damn dessert.

I had to wait for her to come home from school. It was only about 15 minutes, but it felt like an eternity. Jack shit was on TV, and all of the books were dead boring; she had left her cell phone at home though, and it only took 2 tries to break the passcode.

Kids these days. The things they keep on their phones sicken me.

The front door unlocks and I set the phone back where I found it. I face towards the wall, turning my back to the front door.

"Thought you'd never get home from school, Feltner." I muse, glancing over my shoulder at her. "Hell, I thought maybe-"

"Sorry, not in the mood." She cuts me off, throwing her backpack to the ground. "And before you ask, I'm just going to say that I'm completely open to burning someone's house down right now."

//HMM//

Wait, hold up. FHTC goodie-goodie Keira Feltner wants to burn someone's house down?

"Have a bad day?" I ask and swivel to face her. She only stares me down. "Let me guess, somebody brought up the hack?"

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." She huffs, marching straight past to plop down on the couch. "I swear to god, it's like they have zero respect for personal information."

She just sits there for a minute, crossing her arms and furrowing her eyebrows.

"Let's burn something." I half-shrug and continue after she gives me a weird look. "I can disguise you, y'know, make you a copy of me, but, like, inverted."

"You're awfully friendly today, Lavelark. Like a completely different person."

"Do you want to or not?"

//EXTRAS//PLAY//NEWS__REPORT02//SHORT//

Updated 3:22 PM

Earlier this afternoon, Kathryn Lavelark was spotted in a Washington D.C. residential area, setting fire to a family home. Some witnesses say she was accompanied by a double, with inverted eye color; instead of lilac and silver, the double had pale yellowed and dark gray, near black.

Lavelark allegedly set fire to the Coleman family home, but luckily, all 5 residents escaped before the building's collapse, which destroyed everything inside.

"I don't [really] know why she would target us," says the eldest child, Becki, an attendee of the highschool nearby. "I mean, we're not linked up with the FHTC, or any trainees, really. Not any more so than anyone else."

Authorities urge citizens to contact 911 if either suspects are sighted.

//REBOOT__DISPLAY//
//TIMESKIP//45__MINS//

Feltner was actually pretty alright. She reminded me an awful lot of War, which made decent sense.

They were both usually laid back, but could get really amped about something really quick. Neither of them had an actual problem with me, but due to my roots, I'm kind of a threat.

Keira and I are pretty friendly, I think. There's no real point to fighting; we're evenly matched, and we'd just end up making a big-ass mess of D.C.