[So, there are some similarities, at least in term of our parents, graduated from Chroma University (CU). Doctorate in mechanical engineering, master's in physics, blah blah. I work at Axxis Corps here huh? Can't believe I'm not self employed. The main issue is going to be this.. ]
Within the Safekeep, the Headquarters of the Safeguards, the husband wife team of Apex and Foresight, Erik Turner from elsewhere sits reclined in a chair, dressed in a pair of jeans and short sleeved black shirt. In his hands are papers, information he has spent the week compiling regarding the life of his other self from family, friends, employment, finances, and his credit score. Doing a background check on himself felt odd to say the least. This city, this world was both familiar and yet still so foreign to him. This definitely wasn't his world, these weren't his people, yet their history was so much like his, even to the history and birth of variants and Outliers. As jarring as this all was, it paled in comparison to one major difference between him and his deceased alter. He grits his teeth as he stares at a picture of Marie Turner, formerly Marie Diez also known as Foresight, and perhaps worst of all...his wife.
[Married...we're actually married in this world. Unbelievable! Of all the women it had to be her.]
Just like he was the Apex in his world, there was a Foresight in his as well. However the difference between them was, they weren't on such...friendly terms in his world. His Foresight was considerably his arch nemesis. A Liar, a manipulator, one who warped, twisted and at times broke the minds of those she toyed with, a true villainous through and through. He could still hear her mocking laughter, that venomous smile, and he was to believe that here she was...a wife? Not only a wife, but HIS wife. That she was actually supportive, potentially kind. He tossed the papers into the air, causing them to scatter. The scattered pieces of paper simultaneously stop mid-fall, Erik's face resting in one hand while his other hand faces up. He closes his fingers, causing the papers to pull into each other, rolling into a tight wadded ball. He flicks his wrist, the paper ball flung across the room into the distant trash bin.
[Lets focus, she's dead here so I don't have to worry about playing happy with her. With the two having died five years ago, begs to reason that they're believed to be dead in their civilian life too. I'll need to ease myself back into this Turner's life, give his job a reasonable excuse for his absence for the past five years, reach out to his family as well....This is going to be a headache.]
He drops his head, grabbing it with both hands as he lets out a loud aggravated groan.
Within the Safekeep, the Headquarters of the Safeguards, the husband wife team of Apex and Foresight, Erik Turner from elsewhere sits reclined in a chair, dressed in a pair of jeans and short sleeved black shirt. In his hands are papers, information he has spent the week compiling regarding the life of his other self from family, friends, employment, finances, and his credit score. Doing a background check on himself felt odd to say the least. This city, this world was both familiar and yet still so foreign to him. This definitely wasn't his world, these weren't his people, yet their history was so much like his, even to the history and birth of variants and Outliers. As jarring as this all was, it paled in comparison to one major difference between him and his deceased alter. He grits his teeth as he stares at a picture of Marie Turner, formerly Marie Diez also known as Foresight, and perhaps worst of all...his wife.
[Married...we're actually married in this world. Unbelievable! Of all the women it had to be her.]
Just like he was the Apex in his world, there was a Foresight in his as well. However the difference between them was, they weren't on such...friendly terms in his world. His Foresight was considerably his arch nemesis. A Liar, a manipulator, one who warped, twisted and at times broke the minds of those she toyed with, a true villainous through and through. He could still hear her mocking laughter, that venomous smile, and he was to believe that here she was...a wife? Not only a wife, but HIS wife. That she was actually supportive, potentially kind. He tossed the papers into the air, causing them to scatter. The scattered pieces of paper simultaneously stop mid-fall, Erik's face resting in one hand while his other hand faces up. He closes his fingers, causing the papers to pull into each other, rolling into a tight wadded ball. He flicks his wrist, the paper ball flung across the room into the distant trash bin.
[Lets focus, she's dead here so I don't have to worry about playing happy with her. With the two having died five years ago, begs to reason that they're believed to be dead in their civilian life too. I'll need to ease myself back into this Turner's life, give his job a reasonable excuse for his absence for the past five years, reach out to his family as well....This is going to be a headache.]
He drops his head, grabbing it with both hands as he lets out a loud aggravated groan.
[SLAYTE MILL]
In a place so vibrant, full of color and life there were few places that contrasted this. One such place was Pewter Heights, the other was Onyx Keep Asylum, and the last was Slayte Mill, a place that doubled as a factory and storage unit. Within the basement was the silhouette of a man hunched over a desk. The tv was on in the corner, casting its light across the room as the news anchor reports on the story of a strange costumed individual in the distant city of Hexington, wondering if it is a new hero or if they are perhaps connected to a series of serial murders within the town. On the grungy walls were newspaper and magazine clippings, pictures marred with a yellow marker circling the heads of individuals. These individuals included the Hero Rush, Apex and Turner, their images crossed out, and many others. The one thing all these individuals had one thing in common; they were all people of another race from African American, to Asian, Latina, Indian and so on...they were all non-white.
"They're everywhere, blotching this city...staining this world! Just like HE said."
His voice seemed hoarse, the sound of scratching heard as he scribbled in a small notebook with weathered and stained pages. A police styled scanner sits atop the desk, catching the various chatter from the PPD (Prism Police Department). While writing he hears something that causes his hand to pause. He lifts his head, dropping the pencil and grabbing the scanner pulling it closer to him. Shaky fingers grab and twist the knobs, adjusting the channel with his ear near the speaker, the static slowly starting to clear up. Finally he catches it: "PPD Unit 223, be en route to 1212 Amber Valley Lane. Its going to be a dispute between neighbors.
The man pushes himself out of his chair and rushes over to a rusted and dented locker. He opens it, his heart racing as he stares inside. His heart begins beating faster, shaky hands reaching inside grasping hold of the object of his admiration inside. Retrieving the item, hidden in darkness and shadow a toothy grin crosses his lips, practically shining in the darkly lit room.
[...1212 Amber Valley LN]
"How many times do I have to tell you, tu lunático?! I'm NOT on your side. My fence, and my tree are on my side of the property line!"
"Yea right! You people are always crossing borders, I doubt you even know where the property line is!"
"What did you just say to me?!"
Within the neighborhood two neighbors were arguing back and forth, divided solely by a wooden fence. One was Mr. Hernandez at 1214 Amber Valley Lane, and the other was Mr. Crawford at 1212 Amber Valley Lane. Mr. Hernandez was relatively new to the neighborhood, one of Prism City's prominent Bank managers. Having moved to the area with his family, he was no stranger to bigotry, but truth be told he had not expected to find it here.
At a distance, flashing lights could be seen, a vehicle pulling up in front of the two houses.
"Oh good, finally someone here who can talk sense into your cabeza estúpida."
He practically spits out the words, eager to have someone in authority to mediate the situation and, perhaps reprimand his racist neighbor.
"Huh? Who are you suppose to-wa!"
In a place so vibrant, full of color and life there were few places that contrasted this. One such place was Pewter Heights, the other was Onyx Keep Asylum, and the last was Slayte Mill, a place that doubled as a factory and storage unit. Within the basement was the silhouette of a man hunched over a desk. The tv was on in the corner, casting its light across the room as the news anchor reports on the story of a strange costumed individual in the distant city of Hexington, wondering if it is a new hero or if they are perhaps connected to a series of serial murders within the town. On the grungy walls were newspaper and magazine clippings, pictures marred with a yellow marker circling the heads of individuals. These individuals included the Hero Rush, Apex and Turner, their images crossed out, and many others. The one thing all these individuals had one thing in common; they were all people of another race from African American, to Asian, Latina, Indian and so on...they were all non-white.
"They're everywhere, blotching this city...staining this world! Just like HE said."
His voice seemed hoarse, the sound of scratching heard as he scribbled in a small notebook with weathered and stained pages. A police styled scanner sits atop the desk, catching the various chatter from the PPD (Prism Police Department). While writing he hears something that causes his hand to pause. He lifts his head, dropping the pencil and grabbing the scanner pulling it closer to him. Shaky fingers grab and twist the knobs, adjusting the channel with his ear near the speaker, the static slowly starting to clear up. Finally he catches it: "PPD Unit 223, be en route to 1212 Amber Valley Lane. Its going to be a dispute between neighbors.
The man pushes himself out of his chair and rushes over to a rusted and dented locker. He opens it, his heart racing as he stares inside. His heart begins beating faster, shaky hands reaching inside grasping hold of the object of his admiration inside. Retrieving the item, hidden in darkness and shadow a toothy grin crosses his lips, practically shining in the darkly lit room.
[...1212 Amber Valley LN]
"How many times do I have to tell you, tu lunático?! I'm NOT on your side. My fence, and my tree are on my side of the property line!"
"Yea right! You people are always crossing borders, I doubt you even know where the property line is!"
"What did you just say to me?!"
Within the neighborhood two neighbors were arguing back and forth, divided solely by a wooden fence. One was Mr. Hernandez at 1214 Amber Valley Lane, and the other was Mr. Crawford at 1212 Amber Valley Lane. Mr. Hernandez was relatively new to the neighborhood, one of Prism City's prominent Bank managers. Having moved to the area with his family, he was no stranger to bigotry, but truth be told he had not expected to find it here.
At a distance, flashing lights could be seen, a vehicle pulling up in front of the two houses.
"Oh good, finally someone here who can talk sense into your cabeza estúpida."
He practically spits out the words, eager to have someone in authority to mediate the situation and, perhaps reprimand his racist neighbor.
"Huh? Who are you suppose to-wa!"
"Hello sir, I'm sorry for my extended absence. You see, I was in a medical coma for a long time, have only recently woken up, but I've been medically cleared. Doctors call it a miracle...Will this work?"
Erik stands in front of a mirror, having been rehearsing his lines, having come up with the most believable excuse he could come up with. The computer was currently running a program, forging medical records at Spectrum Medical Hospital. He turns towards the television, having had the news playing all day, staying atop of the latest information best he could. He sees the scene of a neighborhood, taped off with various PPD officers surrounding the scene. Grabbing the remote, Erik raises the volume.
"Out here in Amber Valley, we're at the scene of a horrible incident. A hispanic family, the Hernandez's are all reportedly dead. While we are unable to get any closer, it seems some form of poison might have been used. While the police are not speaking, it is believed to be the possible work of an Outlier."
Erik stares at the scene, eyes narrowed as he studied the news report. He lowers the volume once more, tossing the remote aside.
"Now isn't the time for me to be making appearances. I have to get my life as Erik Turner in order over here before I can think of anything else. The Fold and the STF should be able to handle this, if it is an Outlier's doing."
While a hero, Erik is a man displaced from his world. He has no true connections, no actual friends here. A familiar face to others in a sea of unfamiliar bodies, many wearing familiar faces. It was, an alien feeling. He was still wrestling with the thought that he was married to one of his arch nemesis. No, he was in no condition or position to try and help others right now. 'Get my bearings first. This world had gone without Apex for five years, what's a few more days or weeks?' He rationalizes his decision, one that is cold and calculating. The sound of paper being printed pulls him from his thoughts. Walking over to his computer, medical documents are retrieved, all appearing authentic. Any call to the hospital should also mirror this report, or at the very least show he had been at that hospital and was discharged recently. Grabbing his black single breasted blazer jacket he secures the papers in a folder, as he heads out of his new headquarters to head to his former job.
"Lets secure myself a job then."
[Axxis Corps]
The massive building was buzzing with workers. everyone racing towards who knows where doing who knew what. There were so many projects taking place at any given time, you'd be forgiven for not knowing which one was meant to be the top priority within the company. Erik enters the building, folder held underneath his arm, two armed security guards begin to approach him prepared to turn him back when they stop and blink in disbelief.
"Dr. Turner? Is that...is that really you?"
Erik gives a quick glance to the guard's nametag, and approaches confidently, placing his hand on the man's shoulder.
"In the flesh, and back from the proverbial grave...nearly literal."
He cracks a smile as he shakes the man's hand. He looks around, nodding his head as if in approval.
"I see the place is still standing, thankfully."
"Where have you been Doc? Everyone figured you and Marie were dead, caught up in that whole mess five years ago like many others."
He expected this, but thankfully, he had his ducks in a row. He lowers his head, removing the glasses he had been wearing. He walks beside the two guards, the two staring at him out of concern and confusion.
"I nearly did die. I was luckily found, barely alive amongst the wreckage. I was transported to a medical facility, cared for while I lay in a coma. I only recently woke up and was transferred back to the city..Marie she...she wasn't as lucky as I was."
His voice lowered as he spoke the last part. A somewhat believable story added with tragedy. Even if someone had some doubts, they couldn't question it, or rather wouldn't question or believe those doubts, not in the face of the death of someone's loved one.
"Once I was cleared I tried to get my bearings before I returned, hoping to get my old job back...if the boss would have me of course. Where is he by the way?"
"He should be in a conference call right now, if you want we can let him know you're here?"
Nodding his head he notices everyone's head turned towards a massive television in the lobby. The news shows a shelter, multiple families rushing out. Notably, as much as Prism City was a blended one, all the individuals leaving were white.
"This just in, the string of deaths have been confirmed to be the work of a single individual, an Outlier! From what we can see, all his victims have been those of various ethnic and racial backgrounds other than Caucasian. We are currently at the Living Rainbow Center where many families, women and children are trapped inside with the killer. We are waiting for the STF to respond, but will they be too late? Where are The Fold?"
"The Fold..I've heard of them. The city's newest heroes, where are they?"
Erik asks, slightly clenching his fist and gritting his teeth as he stares at the news on the television. He had believed he could stay at bay for a while, leave things to them while he tried to get a handle on things, this new...life of his.
"Dunno, think I read or heard something about them being sighted across the world, putting out fires in a bunch of other countries. While they're the city's heroes, they're often elsewhere handling more global matters."
Erik curses himself. He was a fool, and self centered. Focused on his own issue, his negligence has allowed the deaths of who knows how many. While this world wasn't his, that didn't make it any less his responsibility. The city had looked to Apex to protect them before, so...how could he do any less now.
"Officer Hill, do me a favor and hand this to the boss. I don't want to take up his time, just let him know how sorry I am and if he will have me again I'll happily return. This folder contains my discharge papers from the hospital to confirm I'm fit to return to work."
He hands over the folder, adjusting his jacket as he turns to walk away, giving them a final wave. They stare at his back then at the folder, and then each other as Erik exits the building, entrusting them with his potential future career wise.
Erik stands in front of a mirror, having been rehearsing his lines, having come up with the most believable excuse he could come up with. The computer was currently running a program, forging medical records at Spectrum Medical Hospital. He turns towards the television, having had the news playing all day, staying atop of the latest information best he could. He sees the scene of a neighborhood, taped off with various PPD officers surrounding the scene. Grabbing the remote, Erik raises the volume.
"Out here in Amber Valley, we're at the scene of a horrible incident. A hispanic family, the Hernandez's are all reportedly dead. While we are unable to get any closer, it seems some form of poison might have been used. While the police are not speaking, it is believed to be the possible work of an Outlier."
Erik stares at the scene, eyes narrowed as he studied the news report. He lowers the volume once more, tossing the remote aside.
"Now isn't the time for me to be making appearances. I have to get my life as Erik Turner in order over here before I can think of anything else. The Fold and the STF should be able to handle this, if it is an Outlier's doing."
While a hero, Erik is a man displaced from his world. He has no true connections, no actual friends here. A familiar face to others in a sea of unfamiliar bodies, many wearing familiar faces. It was, an alien feeling. He was still wrestling with the thought that he was married to one of his arch nemesis. No, he was in no condition or position to try and help others right now. 'Get my bearings first. This world had gone without Apex for five years, what's a few more days or weeks?' He rationalizes his decision, one that is cold and calculating. The sound of paper being printed pulls him from his thoughts. Walking over to his computer, medical documents are retrieved, all appearing authentic. Any call to the hospital should also mirror this report, or at the very least show he had been at that hospital and was discharged recently. Grabbing his black single breasted blazer jacket he secures the papers in a folder, as he heads out of his new headquarters to head to his former job.
"Lets secure myself a job then."
[Axxis Corps]
The massive building was buzzing with workers. everyone racing towards who knows where doing who knew what. There were so many projects taking place at any given time, you'd be forgiven for not knowing which one was meant to be the top priority within the company. Erik enters the building, folder held underneath his arm, two armed security guards begin to approach him prepared to turn him back when they stop and blink in disbelief.
"Dr. Turner? Is that...is that really you?"
Erik gives a quick glance to the guard's nametag, and approaches confidently, placing his hand on the man's shoulder.
"In the flesh, and back from the proverbial grave...nearly literal."
He cracks a smile as he shakes the man's hand. He looks around, nodding his head as if in approval.
"I see the place is still standing, thankfully."
"Where have you been Doc? Everyone figured you and Marie were dead, caught up in that whole mess five years ago like many others."
He expected this, but thankfully, he had his ducks in a row. He lowers his head, removing the glasses he had been wearing. He walks beside the two guards, the two staring at him out of concern and confusion.
"I nearly did die. I was luckily found, barely alive amongst the wreckage. I was transported to a medical facility, cared for while I lay in a coma. I only recently woke up and was transferred back to the city..Marie she...she wasn't as lucky as I was."
His voice lowered as he spoke the last part. A somewhat believable story added with tragedy. Even if someone had some doubts, they couldn't question it, or rather wouldn't question or believe those doubts, not in the face of the death of someone's loved one.
"Once I was cleared I tried to get my bearings before I returned, hoping to get my old job back...if the boss would have me of course. Where is he by the way?"
"He should be in a conference call right now, if you want we can let him know you're here?"
Nodding his head he notices everyone's head turned towards a massive television in the lobby. The news shows a shelter, multiple families rushing out. Notably, as much as Prism City was a blended one, all the individuals leaving were white.
"This just in, the string of deaths have been confirmed to be the work of a single individual, an Outlier! From what we can see, all his victims have been those of various ethnic and racial backgrounds other than Caucasian. We are currently at the Living Rainbow Center where many families, women and children are trapped inside with the killer. We are waiting for the STF to respond, but will they be too late? Where are The Fold?"
"The Fold..I've heard of them. The city's newest heroes, where are they?"
Erik asks, slightly clenching his fist and gritting his teeth as he stares at the news on the television. He had believed he could stay at bay for a while, leave things to them while he tried to get a handle on things, this new...life of his.
"Dunno, think I read or heard something about them being sighted across the world, putting out fires in a bunch of other countries. While they're the city's heroes, they're often elsewhere handling more global matters."
Erik curses himself. He was a fool, and self centered. Focused on his own issue, his negligence has allowed the deaths of who knows how many. While this world wasn't his, that didn't make it any less his responsibility. The city had looked to Apex to protect them before, so...how could he do any less now.
"Officer Hill, do me a favor and hand this to the boss. I don't want to take up his time, just let him know how sorry I am and if he will have me again I'll happily return. This folder contains my discharge papers from the hospital to confirm I'm fit to return to work."
He hands over the folder, adjusting his jacket as he turns to walk away, giving them a final wave. They stare at his back then at the folder, and then each other as Erik exits the building, entrusting them with his potential future career wise.
"You people...and your ways. Your beliefs, your practices. You're like a disease."
A man, covered from head to toe in a black and yellow suit, with what appears to be a gas mask styled helmet covering his head. His voice slightly breathy as its filtered through the gas mask. He stands before a crowd of individuals, men, women, children; all of different ethnicities and racial backgrounds. Some said prayers, others wept alongside children huddeled underneath and behind their parents.
"When dealing with pests, you have to smoke them out."
Green and Mustard colored gasses begin hissing out from openings along the contraptions and openings on his shoulders and forearms, quickly spreading to fill the area. The crowd is soon covered, and where he expects them to choke and wheeze and scream and cry out in terror and pain, instead there is silence. As the gas churns the hint of a purple glow can be seen just beyond his gas.
"This is a no smoking area man, going to have to ask you to take it outside."
The gas masked individual turns around and is met with Apex floating into the room. Reaching out, he gas covering the crowd is encased in a purple field, compressed smaller and smaller before being forcefully flung through the ceiling and into the air before dispersing. The individuals once at the mercy of the killer are all unharmed, mentally razzled, but physically safe.
"All of you, leave. Now."
"No! No one leaves!"
Turning preparing to launch more gases towards his victims he instead finds his body flung across the room and into a wall by an invisible force, causing it to crack.
"Yes, everyone. Leave now."
"Is that...really you Apex?"
Apex merely locks over his shoulder giving a nod, turning back towards the perpetrator of all of this. The crowd rushes out frantically, the police working to gather them and confirm the safety as they begin talking about what happened and what was taking place inside.
"You, you're suppose to be dead. Did some of your kind perform some type of voodoo to bring you back?"
Peeling himself off the wall, panting angrily Apex merely floats there, lifting his brow in disbelief. Folding his arms, his eye begin to glow.
"Yea, I've been needing some stress relief. Thanks for volunteering."
Unfolding his arms he pauses as he sees the man tossing something out the window. The sound of screams from outside pulls Apex's attention away, as he can see gases spreading outside.
"Bastard!"
He flings the man towards another wall, this time his body goes crashing completely through it. Bursting through a wall himself to reach outside, Apex sees the gas lingering like a cloud of death. He extends both hands, an invisible force compressing the gas together as he works to contain it in a type of bubble.
"Get anyone exposed to the gas to a hospital. NOW!"
He shouts down to the local law enforcement and first responders as he flings the captured gas away. Returning back into the center he touches down on the floor, scanning the entirety of the facility finding it absent of the killer. Apex burst through the ceiling taking to the air, looking around. He narrows his eyes seeking the signs of anyone suspicious. He clenches his fists tightly, unable to spot anything. He lowers himself to the ground, only to quickly be swarmed by the media.
"Are you truly the Apex or are you a pretender? If you are him where have you been all this time? What happened to the villain and-"
The reporter is cut off by Apex raising his hand, silencing her. Rubbing his forehead, his hand drags down his face before both hands rest on his hips, head dropping.
"Yes, I'm really Apex. Once The Fold gets back, they'll be able to confirm this having authenticated my identity already. I was dead, or in a similar state to being dead. As for that living Smoke Hazard..don't worry about him, not anymore. I wont let him have his way."
Having said all he cared to he takes to the skies, leaving without sparing the Reporter or the crowd another word. The clamoring down below grew feinter the further he got from them. He'd have to keep a closer eye on things in the city, if The Fold couldn't be trusted to stay at home to handle the messes here, he'd have to do it. As he soars through the air, a ringing could be heard in his ear.
"Erik? This is you right? You're really back?"
The call was from his boss or rather, this world's version of him former boss at Axxis Corps. With everything going on he had forgotten about today's original goal.
"Aha, yes, its really me. Sorry I didn't wait for you to finish, I didn't want to impose and truth be told, I didn't have the courage to stay there and possibly be turned away."
"Nonesense, you were one of our most brilliant minds. Listen, I heard about Marie you have my condolences, truly. I'm sure we can find a place for you back in the Corporation, swing by say the day after tomorrow? I'll get the paper work going for you, gives me a day to get things in order on my end, and you one more day to rest before I put you back to work."
"I appreciate it. I look forward to getting back to work. I could use the distraction."
The call ends, allowing Apex to breathe a sigh of relief. 'That's one issue resolved at least.' Having a job meant steady income, but it also meant resources, information, all things he needed. Once he got settled in here, then he could tackle the issue of reuniting 'Erik' with his family. Floating back to his headquarters, the windows open in greeting as he quietly lands on the floor, removing his mask.
"Why didn't you tell me you were alive?"
Erik turns to see a woman sitting in a chair. Dark skin, with her hair fashioned in a stylized mohawk, a pair of glasses resting on her face with her arms folded and legs crossed in her business suit. Erik stares at her, mouth slightly open as he is uncertain who this woman was, and just how to address this situation.
A man, covered from head to toe in a black and yellow suit, with what appears to be a gas mask styled helmet covering his head. His voice slightly breathy as its filtered through the gas mask. He stands before a crowd of individuals, men, women, children; all of different ethnicities and racial backgrounds. Some said prayers, others wept alongside children huddeled underneath and behind their parents.
"When dealing with pests, you have to smoke them out."
Green and Mustard colored gasses begin hissing out from openings along the contraptions and openings on his shoulders and forearms, quickly spreading to fill the area. The crowd is soon covered, and where he expects them to choke and wheeze and scream and cry out in terror and pain, instead there is silence. As the gas churns the hint of a purple glow can be seen just beyond his gas.
"This is a no smoking area man, going to have to ask you to take it outside."
The gas masked individual turns around and is met with Apex floating into the room. Reaching out, he gas covering the crowd is encased in a purple field, compressed smaller and smaller before being forcefully flung through the ceiling and into the air before dispersing. The individuals once at the mercy of the killer are all unharmed, mentally razzled, but physically safe.
"All of you, leave. Now."
"No! No one leaves!"
Turning preparing to launch more gases towards his victims he instead finds his body flung across the room and into a wall by an invisible force, causing it to crack.
"Yes, everyone. Leave now."
"Is that...really you Apex?"
Apex merely locks over his shoulder giving a nod, turning back towards the perpetrator of all of this. The crowd rushes out frantically, the police working to gather them and confirm the safety as they begin talking about what happened and what was taking place inside.
"You, you're suppose to be dead. Did some of your kind perform some type of voodoo to bring you back?"
Peeling himself off the wall, panting angrily Apex merely floats there, lifting his brow in disbelief. Folding his arms, his eye begin to glow.
"Yea, I've been needing some stress relief. Thanks for volunteering."
Unfolding his arms he pauses as he sees the man tossing something out the window. The sound of screams from outside pulls Apex's attention away, as he can see gases spreading outside.
"Bastard!"
He flings the man towards another wall, this time his body goes crashing completely through it. Bursting through a wall himself to reach outside, Apex sees the gas lingering like a cloud of death. He extends both hands, an invisible force compressing the gas together as he works to contain it in a type of bubble.
"Get anyone exposed to the gas to a hospital. NOW!"
He shouts down to the local law enforcement and first responders as he flings the captured gas away. Returning back into the center he touches down on the floor, scanning the entirety of the facility finding it absent of the killer. Apex burst through the ceiling taking to the air, looking around. He narrows his eyes seeking the signs of anyone suspicious. He clenches his fists tightly, unable to spot anything. He lowers himself to the ground, only to quickly be swarmed by the media.
"Are you truly the Apex or are you a pretender? If you are him where have you been all this time? What happened to the villain and-"
The reporter is cut off by Apex raising his hand, silencing her. Rubbing his forehead, his hand drags down his face before both hands rest on his hips, head dropping.
"Yes, I'm really Apex. Once The Fold gets back, they'll be able to confirm this having authenticated my identity already. I was dead, or in a similar state to being dead. As for that living Smoke Hazard..don't worry about him, not anymore. I wont let him have his way."
Having said all he cared to he takes to the skies, leaving without sparing the Reporter or the crowd another word. The clamoring down below grew feinter the further he got from them. He'd have to keep a closer eye on things in the city, if The Fold couldn't be trusted to stay at home to handle the messes here, he'd have to do it. As he soars through the air, a ringing could be heard in his ear.
"Erik? This is you right? You're really back?"
The call was from his boss or rather, this world's version of him former boss at Axxis Corps. With everything going on he had forgotten about today's original goal.
"Aha, yes, its really me. Sorry I didn't wait for you to finish, I didn't want to impose and truth be told, I didn't have the courage to stay there and possibly be turned away."
"Nonesense, you were one of our most brilliant minds. Listen, I heard about Marie you have my condolences, truly. I'm sure we can find a place for you back in the Corporation, swing by say the day after tomorrow? I'll get the paper work going for you, gives me a day to get things in order on my end, and you one more day to rest before I put you back to work."
"I appreciate it. I look forward to getting back to work. I could use the distraction."
The call ends, allowing Apex to breathe a sigh of relief. 'That's one issue resolved at least.' Having a job meant steady income, but it also meant resources, information, all things he needed. Once he got settled in here, then he could tackle the issue of reuniting 'Erik' with his family. Floating back to his headquarters, the windows open in greeting as he quietly lands on the floor, removing his mask.
"Why didn't you tell me you were alive?"
Erik turns to see a woman sitting in a chair. Dark skin, with her hair fashioned in a stylized mohawk, a pair of glasses resting on her face with her arms folded and legs crossed in her business suit. Erik stares at her, mouth slightly open as he is uncertain who this woman was, and just how to address this situation.
[Elsewhere]
The man, now being called Smoke Hazard grips his side, limping in the dark tunnel he found himself in, wheezing and coughing.
"I can't believe...he's still alive."
"So, the rumor of his return was true."
A pink glow shines from up ahead, like that of a large candle warm and gentle.
"I'll get him. He's not special, just another blotch on this beautiful city. Another pest ruining it."
He doesn't appear alarmed at the voice or the individual he is speaking to. Just who was it, and how were they acquainted? On top of this, the individual seemed aware of Apex's return.
"I trust you'll do exactly what needs to be done."
With Smoke Hazard still at large, and seemingly with help, what trouble lays ahead for the city, and the hero meant to protect it? Seems where there's smoke, there's fire.
The man, now being called Smoke Hazard grips his side, limping in the dark tunnel he found himself in, wheezing and coughing.
"I can't believe...he's still alive."
"So, the rumor of his return was true."
A pink glow shines from up ahead, like that of a large candle warm and gentle.
"I'll get him. He's not special, just another blotch on this beautiful city. Another pest ruining it."
He doesn't appear alarmed at the voice or the individual he is speaking to. Just who was it, and how were they acquainted? On top of this, the individual seemed aware of Apex's return.
"I trust you'll do exactly what needs to be done."
With Smoke Hazard still at large, and seemingly with help, what trouble lays ahead for the city, and the hero meant to protect it? Seems where there's smoke, there's fire.
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