Birdwhistle

2

There’s something pure about watching one of the most corrupt buildings in the city burn to the ground, cleansing almost. Despite the panicked yelling, and the people frantically running around like chickens with their heads cut off, Sagan feels eerily calm. City Hall, the birthplace of his nightmares and the destroyer of his dreams. He’s waited a long time to burn this place down. Now that he has though, his hunger for justice and revenge only gets stronger. It isn’t enough. It’s never enough. He stands on the steps of the crumbling structure, immune to his own flames, confused about his dissatisfaction. Maybe burning down the building isn’t enough. Maybe he needs to bring justice down on the people who destroyed him instead. Before he can fully process what that would require him to do, he hears police sirens. But he was expecting this. Sagan was the one that tipped that clueless detective off after all, and that was before he even set fire to the building. He turns to the sound, but only one police car is speeding down the road towards the Hall. No surprise there. He always shows before the others, armor always on. It’s kind of amusing to Sagan that the guy doesn’t even attempt to hide the fact that he works for the police department in his normal life. Either he’s nieve, or he just doesn’t care. Maybe a bit of both. As the speeding vehicle gets closer, Sagan backs into the burning building to keep out of sight, for now. 

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Aster steps out of the squad car, domino mask on, armored bodysuit slightly askew on his body due to having to put it on in a rush (and while driving). He successfully, and discreetly, twists it so it’s straight and fits him like it’s supposed to. Calibane may not use physical weapons, but the armor protects regardless. The heat from his flames and the intensity of their force is enough to kill almost anything. This armor isn’t the bulky metal of the Medieval Age, it’s slim and light. It conforms to his body and protects him, no matter what shape he takes, and is nearly indestructible. He has to be careful though, certain forms don’t allow the armor to cover him completely. He inspects himself one last time, making sure all the chinks are covered with a flexible material that he wears underneath the armor, he made it himself and is very proud of it. It functions similarly to the rest of the armor. After adjusting himself, he looks around and surveys the damage. People are running around haphazardly in the street, the heat from the building almost unbearable. Fortunately the casualties are minimal, and all injuries seem to be treatable. No one is dead that he knows of, thank whatever god is up there. He presses a tiny button on his mask, near his right eye, and the armor in it overtakes his head, before he starts climbing the stairs to the building. His first priority is to save anyone and everyone left in the building, then he can track down Calibane. 

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Footsteps. He swears he hears footsteps. The obnoxiously loud metallic sound could only be one person. Enigma. His enemy. The beloved Hero of Omicron. Stab me with a rusty spoon Sagan thinks. Why that psycho would willingly walk into a burning building is beyond Sagan’s comprehension. The steps get closer, and he has to decide if he will stay hidden, or come out and fight. As if on cue, the booming sound of rafters crashing to the floor resound in the building as one hits the ground just mere feet behind Sagan, his heart skipping at least four beats as his breath catches in his throat, stopping a terrified scream. Too close. That was way too close. The footsteps pause for a moment, allowing Sagan to compose himself again, even though the adrenaline coursing through his veins was hyping his body up, causing it to shake and making his anxiety spike. The footsteps resume, but slower and more cautious. Decision time. Well, Sagan’s always been a fighter, and where’s the fun in letting your enemy die anyways? He waits until Enigma gets closer before jumping out, releasing a bout of flame and pushing him back. With just his fire, he pushes Enigma out the front doors, causing him to tumble all the way down the steps, and into the street. Scorch marks follow his path. Enigma gets up slowly, smoke radiating off the armor, yet if he were to touch it, it would be cool. Damn that armor. One of the many perks of being a hero: better tech. They stand there in the street, staring each other down, both seeming to say “Try me, asshole”. The civilians are long gone by now, just an ambulance or two and six or seven more cop cars than before, officers strategically littering the spaces between and behind their vehicles, all guns trained on Sagan. He doesn’t panic, he’s had guns pointed at him more times than he can count. While he might not have indestructible body armor, he is good with his hands and has made a number of suits that are bulletproof at the very least. He always wears one when he has a feeling he’s gonna cause a shootout. He stares into Enigma’s eyes, or, where they would be if he could see them, and creates the distinct high pitched sound that could only be described as a birdwhistle. Every gun is now trained on the sky, instead of on Sagan. In response to the whistle, there’s the loud screech of a giant hawk. Soon after the reply, seemingly out of thin air, the hawk swoops down from the sky and snatches Sagan gently in its talons before flying off again towards the open fields that surround the eastern peninsula of Omicron, all before the Chief can shout “Fire!”

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The hell he does, Aster thinks, seconds before shifting into a giant falcon himself, and launching into the sky after Calibane and that stupid bird. In the time it took him to transform, Calibane had already managed to maneuver himself from the bird’s feet to its back, where a saddle, fit with footholds that help him steer the massive beast, was already strapped on. Aster’s armor stretches and morphs around him as he transforms, conforming to his new body in seconds as he whizzes through the air, desperate to catch the villain that’s been terrorizing his city for the past five years. Slowly, he starts to catch up, determination driving him more than anything. Without warning, the hawk dives, plummeting to the ground. Aster struggles to keep up with it now, dive bombing after them. At the last second, the hawk pulls up. Aster pulls up much sooner, not looking to play chicken and lose, but with that caution he loses some much needed distance. He sees Calibane glance back at him, and it looks like he curses before turning back around. Almost instantaneously, the hawk swoops up and over Aster. He looks up, as much as his form will let him, and sees Calibane and his hawk flying upside down. Calibane has the biggest smirk on his face, hands crossed and outstretched. The second they make eye contact, he releases his flames right on top of Aster. Due to his form, some of his body is exposed, and the fire eats at his feathers and boils the vulnerable skin underneath. It’s only for a second or two, but the white hot pain is so intense that he loses control, plummeting to the ground, and screaming in pain the entire way. The last thing he sees before hitting the ground and blacking out is Calibane and his stupid freaking bird flying off into the distance.