A dark figure sat on a rooftop, looking down into an alley next to a large building. The clicking of reporter camera shutters echoed quietly from the street. Three men unloaded cargo from a van below. The cat-like green eyes peering from the depths of the figure's hood could make out two words on the multitude of wooden crates. WARNING - HIGH EXPLOSIVES. It was enough to blow up a city block.
A long blade was slowly unsheathed from the figure's side, shining in the moonlight. The dark shadow stood, stepping onto the edge of the rooftop. One more step sent the shadow down into the cold air below.
There was a soft thud on the ground behind the men. One only had time to look towards the sound before the tendons in his arms and legs were cut in a flash of cold metal. He collapsed to the ground, his screams of pain muffled by his mask and helmet. The second one set his crate on the ground, fists in the air to face the mysterious intruder. The third came back from the front at the sound of his writhing comrade and approached warily from behind. The figure's green eyes glinted, taking in the situation, and then launched forwards, the sword aiming for the tendons in the left shoulder. The brute put up his arms in defense, the blade slicing between the bones in his arm instead. The brute recoiled at the pain and twisted away, unfortunately knocking the sword to one side and out of the shadow's grasp.
The third man rushed forwards, and the shadowy figure launched forward into a handstand, bending their legs down behind their back and grabbing the second man by his torso, swinging him up and over the upside-down shadow and launching him into his oncoming comrade. The figure's feet once again touched the ground and pushed the rest of their body up with their hands, turning around to face the two, who were in a heap on the ground and struggling to stand. A second, shorter blade revealed itself from the figure's lower back, and, quick as a viper, darted forward into the lower abdomens of both criminals. They contorted in pain for a few seconds before passing out.
The figure looked around for others, and seeing none, retracted their mechanical hood. Isao Suzumura sighed quietly as the cool air hit his face and black hair, highlighted with a white streak down the center. He grabbed his katana from the ground nearby, purging the blood from it onto the shirt of one of the men. He delivered it back to the sheath on his hip, and did the same for his shorter wakizashi blade that threatened from his lower back.
He looked towards the street, where the reporters continued their clamor over the candidates for the prime minister, unfazed in the brisk fall air. Isao wondered how many of them had kids and had no idea just how close they were to never seeing them again. He glided lightly to the back of the truck where the men had been preparing the explosives. The potential threats were strung together and connected to a central detonator. He flicked open a pouch on the thick belt of his right hip, taking out a small pair of wire-clippers and tweezers. He quickly identified and cut the essential line, disabling the whole lot. He glanced back towards the street out of the corner of his eye, and grabbed one of the explosives, a single piece of dynamite, slicing it away from the rest. He tread further back into the alley, well away from the reporters and other explosives.
The ensuing explosion wouldn't be strong enough to even break the pavement, but the sound would rightfully send chills of death up the dwindling crowd of reporters' spines, driving them to call the UK police and take care of the mess. The whole country could even tighten up security if he was lucky.
He lit the fuse and leapt into the air, climbing up the cold metal gutter pipe to the roof, and concealing his hair once more in the heated metal of his hood. The explosion boomed deeply below as he looked back down, a gust of air moving even his deep red and black layered samurai armor that covered his chest, legs, and shoulders.
The noticeably smaller crowd screamed with the shockwave, scrambling away from the entrance of the alley and hovering a couple yards back. Several desperately jabbed the buttons on their phones, contacting loved ones or police. The VIPs were quickly escorted away and security guarded the entrance to the alleyway, albeit from what they considered a safe distance.
Lingering only long enough to make sure the other explosives had not triggered, Isao moved away from the edge and darted back across the rooftops. A single stray soul in a building across the street could only see the quick glint of a blade on the black blur before it disappeared into the night.
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Hey guys! If you are new here, welcome! I hope you will enjoy this book and maybe even some others on my profile! If you are a long-time reader, my apologies for being gone so long. College has been rough, and I've had no time! But not to fear! Winter break is here! And I plan to post a lot more! I've already got the next couple of chapters finished, so expect more soon! Also, Merry Belated Christmas everyone and Happy New Year! I hope you have a great time with your families and awesome presents! See you next chapter!
-Spartan Steele
P.S. -So I wrote the note above a while ago when I first intended to post this chapter, but I just wanted to post this prologue to gauge interest in this book. I have a significant amount of chapters completed already, enough to last about 2 months worth of regular posting, so I do want to start publishing them soon, but I might hold off if there's not enough interest in this new book yet. If you want me to post the other chapters asap, please comment and vote so I know you are interested in seeing more of this! Thanks everyone! Spartan Steele out!
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The Revenant
Science FictionIsao Suzumura is a high-tech samurai in the 2200's. Supported by an advanced, cutting-edge cybernetic suit, along with years of martial arts training, he is tasked with preventing acts of terrorism and mass-casualties around the world as it grows ev...
