The Crusaders

Prologue: True Believers

New York City, NY, April 17, 2029

The city that never sleeps always lived up to it's name. Each night, the cacophony of sounds and noises that permeated the air always seemed to grow in intensity and power with every passing hour. The optimistic ones called it the city's heartbeat. Those who knew better called it the city's constant scream of pain.

The place had been through it's fair share of gang wars over the past few years, and they had only increased in frequency ever since they arrived. But now, since they were gone, those who had the power to do so roamed free and did whatever they wished. The police, the politicians, all either slowly bent under the iron grip of the evil men in suits behind the scenes, or were swiftly executed once they stood against the tide.

Who were these men in suits, you may ask? Relics, in the sense that they were from an age that was long past, or so it seemed. They were people who dressed up in outfits that you might see on Halloween night, and had a name for themselves that weren't their own. The official police name for them were "gimmicks", but the news and the people had their own name: supervillains.

These gimmicks had quite the reach over these large cities. They had the money and the power to buy whatever they wanted, and they often used them to their completion. The problem with this, however, was the fact that they painted large targets on their backs, flaunting their locations and weaknesses to whoever was paying attention. But, they thought that no one would have the guts to try and come after them. These villains were wrong. Dead wrong.

The Neon Blossom nightclub was busy as usual, with the place being packed with the most proficient members of the 1%. Richard Gold liked it that way. The more people went in, more profit. Not just for him, but for his benefactor. He had been working with him since the days that the costumes were still on the streets. Now, it was open season for all of them, and business was booming.

As his limo pulled up to the front of the nightclub, his security team nodded at him. "Welcome home, Mr. Gold." As he walked in, they touched their earpieces, signalling that he was on his way up to the penthouse. What they didn't know was, someone was watching them, crouched on the edge of a building across the street. Underneath a mask, two eyes narrowed.

Gold walked through the nightclub, passing the dance floor, with dubstep music blasting through the subwoofers, and every person on the floor moving to the beat, no doubt either drunk, high, or both. All courtesy of his benefactor. He moved into his private elevator, two of his personal bodyguards flanking him. As it rose up to the 51st floor, his phone buzzed. He took it out and frowned a little bit. It was from a private number, meaning that his boss was calling.

He sighed and stepped out into his penthouse suite, which contained a living room, office, bedroom, kitchen, and a jacuzzi on the balcony. He answered the call, then spoke into the phone. "Yeah." A raspy, yet gruff voice spoke back, like two bricks being rubbed together. "Is everything in place?" Gold sighed. For being a former gimmick, he was still very paranoid. "Yeah, I made sure. My guys are gonna make the exchange later this month. They'll be there to cover you if things go south."

The voice spoke again, with a bit of a warning tone. "And will things go south?" Gold winced, knowing he probably said the wrong thing. "No, no sir. I guarantee it." There was a pause, then he spoke again. "Good. Because if there is, the blame falls on you, understand?" Gold gulped. "Yeah boss, whatever you say." Then, there was a click as the call disconnected. Gold wiped his forehead, seeing beads of sweat. He knew how to be intimidating.