Prometheus: Harbinger of Conflagration (Shatterpoint part 1)

Chapter 9

An unknown while later, I awoke in a extremely soft bed. The room I was in was paneled in a dark mahogany which seemed to glow with a supernatural light. Looking around groggily, I saw the clothes that Matthewson had bought me neatly folded over a chair. Behind the headboard, a small windowed opened up to the Alps, which revealed it was snowing slightly. I was wearing some sort of gray robes that were loosely fit, sort of like a hospital gown. I stood up hesitantly and went to open the door. I crept into the hallway, unsure of where exactly I was. Like the room, the hall was paneled in a dark mahogany, but there were various bookshelves and weapons and devices lining the walls. Towards the ceiling, brightly shining lanterns provided a well-lit area. Hearing voices around the corner, I ducked into a hallway, and stopped dead in awe. All across the room, large door frames hung suspended by nothing, or against the walls. Above each of them was an inscription. They read: Appalachian, Himalayan, Roche, Kilimanjaro, Andes, and Ural. Under each was what I initially thought was an image of the individual mountain range, but I saw a flicker of movement in the one labeled Roche, and I realized they were not merely pictures but rather actual doorways to those mountain ranges. Shocked, and in immense pain from my injuries I'd sustained after literally falling off a flying pirate ship (why I'd ever thought that would be a good idea, I have no idea), I collapsed. After I hit the floor the fever once again roared through my body and the flames began to catch.

Suddenly, I saw a pair of shoes walk up. "Tsk," said a relatively young voice. "You shouldn't be out of bed, harbinger." Unsure of who he was, and in severe pain, the fever raged even stronger, and the kid took a step back. "I don't want to hurt you, dude. But I'm not about to let you burn down the Sacra di San Michele, it's a history relic. Laes Nedlog. Tej Retaw." I felt a cold metal form around my hands, extinguishing the source of the flames, and a burst of water appear out of nowhere, extinguishing the flames that had already caught on the wood paneling. Then I lost consciousness and blacked out.

0 0 0 0 0

A while later, I again woke up in the same room as I had before (either that, of the two rooms were eerily similar). Instead of my old clothes being folded on a chair, a white suit of some sort lay neatly on it. In front of the door, hovered a mysterious man in navy, loose-fitting robes. Three small orbs circled around his head in seemingly random patterns. His eyes were watching me like a historian looks at a new find, and there was a large four-shaped scar on his right cheek.

"Good, you're awake. I was wondering when that would happen. How are you feeling?" he said, sounding like he was bored.

"Uh... fine I guess? The pain isn't so bad any- anymore," I stuttered out.

"There's no need to feel afraid Alex. You're in the Sacra di San Michele, the safest place on planet Earth. No one will hurt you here."

"How- how do you know my name?" I stuttered out again. The man pinched his nose and sighed.

"You talk in your sleep, kid. Also, I'm the greatest warlock on Earth."

"Warlock?" I asked quizzically.

"Wizard," the man said sighing. "Listen, kid. My name is Vendetta, the First Protector of Earth, and not it's last. Centuries ago, I was attacked by men working for August Blackwoar, an immortal madman, who's intent on world domination. He has been an immortal for hundreds of years, attempting to recruit or kill the world's Powereds. He is the unofficial leader of each major country on each continent. If he can control the Powered population, he can conduct his dastardly schemes without resistance. My organization- the Vendetta Corps- have been on the defensive, doing our best to stop the Blackwoar Guild and preserve humanity. I'm here to help you and train you for the coming war." He got down from his floating position and walked over to the bedside and stuck out his hand, "Do you want my help?"

I stared at his hand in shock. "What the hell dude?" I said, "You unload all that information at me, then to just work with you?"

Vendetta looked taken aback. "Of course I do. I healed you, gave you shelter against the elements, and I clothed you. You owe me."

"Sir, no offense, but I'm pretty sure I have pyrokinetic abilities. I think I would have survived in the cold."

"Kid, when Oloro found you outside, both your legs were broken, you had three cracked ribs, and a severe concussion. It's a wonder you survived at all," he said, folding his arms. "You don't have a known healing factor. Without the Vendetta Corp's help, you'd be dead. You owe us your life."

"No, I don't. I didn't ask you to heal me. I was coming here to find you after the Wanderer told me you could help return me to the real time."

"What did you say?" said Vendetta, surprised.

"I said," I said dryly, "that the person known as the Wanderer told me in a dream to come to Milan, and find the four-scarred man. That he could help me return to the real time."

Vendetta stepped back and mused. "Of course! I knew something felt off. A month ago, I could have sworn it was 2016, but I have a tendency to lose my memories every 20 years, so I dismissed it at the time. But now that you told me...." He trailed off stopped talking. One of the orbs started pulsing with a grayish-blue color and his head perked up. Vendetta strode towards the door then spun around suddenly and halted, and barked: "Alright kid, here's the deal. I'm not gonna force you into a lifetime of service for the Corps, but you are gonna stay here and train. You seem incredibly inexperienced, and I have some of the greatest experts on Powered abilities, who would be more than willing to teach you how control your powers. I have pressing matters to attend to now, but feel free to explore the premises. The only place off limits to you my private study, located on the top floor. The instructors should be up on the third floor, and you're currently on the first." He then left, closing the door behind him. I decided being able to control the fever the kept surging through my body at random times was better than being slave to it, but as I walked towards the door, Vendette suddenly threw it open again.

"I almost forgot!" he cried. "Nommus!" A purplish-gold circle crackled into life around his hand, and the suit that was folded neatly on the chair flew to it. "Alex, this suit is a made of a Modacrylic-PBI weave that's laced with a titanium/tungsten alloy that we call zingmonium. We've discovered natural strains of the metal running through the ground, but our alchemists were able to synthesize some here." I responded with another blank face. "Goddamn kid, do you understand anything that's going on?" he laughed and continued, "Basically the suit is fireproof and will withstand temperatures up to 3462 degrees Fahrenheit. If you reach a temperature of over that, I will both be impressed as all hell, because that's hot, but also the suit at that point will become brittle and catch on fire. In addition to being flame-retardant, the suit's enchanted to rearrange itself based on the wearer's metabolic structure, meaning if it doesn't fit quite right, simply press the button on the center of the belt, and it will shift to fit you."

My eyes widened and grabbed the suit out of Vendetta's hands. "That's so cool! So it's mine?"

Vendetta rolled his eyes saying, "It is very rude to grab without asking first, but yes. The suit is yours. I'll leave you to change now. After you're finished, meet with the trainers on the third floor. I'll be in contact with you later." He closed the door, leaving me alone in the mahogany room, with a white suit that would withstand my powers.