บท 82: Chapter 72: Jeremy York vs The Hand
Chapter 72: Jeremy York vs The Hand
Harlem, New York
Annabelle|Leech
Fear.
Annabella's mutant ability was one of empathy and a powerful one. Cole knew little about the woman as she was a destined side character, and he believed she eventually succumbed to the Marauders and whatever Sinister wanted with them, another topic he had no idea about; he only knew the X-men dealt with him on numerous occasions.
The woman wasn't a Morlock by appearance, but her disregard for her power made her dangerous. I imagine how you dealt with guilt and sorrow and other powerful emotions; you would cope with others might not; suicide and murder weren't off the table if the unassuming grandmother was left unchecked.
The older adult had hardly used her powers in her younger years; as an elder, she was pretty knowledgeable about mutant kind, but that part of her had long been drowned out. Cole had suspected her powers were wearing heavily on her, and her continued sanity was due to Leech's presence.
Having cross-engineered the Marauder's tech, he had placed power-dampening tiles around the floor. Unnoticeable, non-suspicious tiles that looked like decorations would marginally output waves of damaging rays to lower the women's power levels.
Leech had been placed with her out of familiarity other than necessity, Annabella's powers ineffectual on Cole. He also had plans for the boy; when he had time, he would endeavor to solve the boy's appearance; it was fortunate he had arrived in a verse with the Morlock Leech instead of the apathetic, emotionally despondent version. He could mold Leech into a weapon, one that was uniquely gifted to stop almost anyone with powers. There were limits, but with Cole's tech and training, he was sure the boy would be an asset.
Her eyes snapped open with a start. Her old body lurched upright as she glanced around, already determining her abrupt wakefulness was more than the overwhelming fear that reeked in the vicinity and poured through the walls like water through a cheesecloth.
She pushed her mind out and shuddered at what she felt. Her power sprung back like a rubberband and coalesced around her, and her fright had slipped from her control, but she felt a familiar hand on hers, her mutant ability snuffing out as quickly as it started.
"Come, baby, we must flee."
Leech shook his head at her. "Leech won't go. Leech, stay and help Boss," The young Morlock said resolutely. Her lips thinned, and she swallowed a retort. Her grandson had a knack for following those suited to lead; she wondered if that was a quirk of his mutation or child sensibilities.
Annabelle stood, sliding into her shoes. Over the intercom, an emotionless voice said. "Refrain from leaving the room. The building has been compromised."
"Are we in danger?" She fired back at the artificial intelligence. She didn't know if Jeremy was aware, but the program was forming sentience; she knew she could feel its deeply hidden emotions.
"Have faith in the founder." THE artificial intelligence replies.
Leech squeezed her hand and looked into her eyes; she deflated and sat down. They were in a spacious room; the door was thick, and she was sure he wouldn't fall to whoever had dared attack him.
Their door suddenly opened, and two Android dogs stepped in. She had seen them before the workers arrived. Now, they remain hidden on the more secretive floors. The dogs mechanically sniffed at the air, making Leech chuckle as he wanted to go toward the dogs to pet them. His grandma grabbed his hand and shook her head. He deflated, sad, but grabbed the old stuff Teddy Bear and watched the dogs stand stock still.
Cole Stephens
Hiding had its benefits, but this is Marvel; one must be capable of warding off the little annoyances, even the most minor.
Two-hand soldiers had peeled themselves from the walls, surprising a dispassionate Cole. Balls and chains flung out, stalling Cole's arms. He looked down at his arms; the chain had begun to groan and turn red, but before they could turn to slag, he had yanked on his would-be captors, pulling them toward him before effortlessly ending their lives.
"Muatant," spat a Hand soldier. Cole had noted the elites among them always slinking amongst the shadows; how could they know the futility of their efforts?
"Devil worshipping scum!" He retorted, his Glock appearing and disappearing from his hand, preceded by a bark of a gunshot. The talkative soldier crumbled a hole smoking in the center of his head.
The Hand ninjas halted and slunk back, eyes looking for others' questioning.
"Red Hood." Someone uttered right before the emergency lights flickered on. Alfred was righting a glaring mistake of theirs quite splendidly.
"You have stumbled upon a secret that many haven't figured out. Jeremy York, Jason Todd, and Red Hood are all the same. And that means that none of you will leave here alive; some will be useful, and my projects work well with the unwilling. Hand will rue the day that they murdered my family in cold blood. Nothing, and I mean nothing, will stop me from murdering every one of you and destroying your century's worth of heritage and this false insanity that is immortality that your leaders cling to."
Let's not forget who targeted his family and killed his mother and father; the act had even taken place under the betrayal of his father's brothers and sisters, people he brought over from the islands and gave them a better and affluent life.
Jeremy's death, too, was the family's handiwork and The Hand. They couldn't even spare him the trouble of doing it themselves, outsourcing his murder by the Hand of common thugs.
Jeremy's hate and ire were volcanic, the eruption of anger barely held beneath the magma of his blood as heat sloshed off him in waves that made his approach look like a mirage.
His Lantern Ring pulsated on his finger, its mystical energies sapping at the rage and hate that poured from him. Cole almost let go, unleashing an Atrocious ring upon the world, but arrogance or apathy had held him back, and the shout from a defeated enemy stamped it.
"You have no honor." gasped the shinobi as he dropped to his knees.
Cole bellowed at the audacity of the man before him. "Honor?" His voice cracked as the emotions of a lost child rose to the surface.
"Snakeroot ha....arghh." He choked as Cole lifted him from the ground, his Hand searing hot.
"Where was the honor when The Hand took everything from me? Where was the honor when you ruined a life that should have been happy."
He wouldn't receive an answer as the man's head flopped to the side, his eyes wide open as the last moments were written across his face.
Those near him could breathe as the heat wave evaporated the air and moisture they dearly needed. His pitched nails extended into stiletto points as he bashed, carved, and sheered through the helpless soldiers who, to their bravery, rushed at him.
"Sir, the building is back online. Securing all exits. Replica Forces are pending your confirmation to come online."
"Bring them." He growled as he stared at the dead and dying Hand soldiers. Once online, the Replica forces would endeavor to protect his properties. Notification rhythmically rang, each pressing down on him and requesting his attention. He groaned at the annoyance.
"Alfred, full sweep of all floors except the twenty-ninth; these are mines."
"Orders confirmed, sir."
The mechanical whirring of his machines was the last thing he heard before he was submerged in annoying notifications. The floor was sealed, becoming the ninjas' resting places as he stood amongst their dead, eyes glazed over.
System message: Hand Enforcer slaughtered. Reward(s): +Heroic alingment. $5,000.
...
System message: Hand Foot Soldiers Killed. Reward(s): ++Heroic alingment. $65,000.
Snakeroot? Weren't they like a clan that made up The Hand? He remembered that The Hand comprised five clans, and the fingers represented each clan.
....
Cole had to begrudgingly push many useless notifications away, especially the newer ones.
System message: The Host has rescued prominent figures—Reward: Ability-Machanical Aptitude.
Another ability. Cole blinked rapidly as his mind expanded, and he expounded ideas and pathways that he hadn't thought about, even with his other skills. It was almost an overhaul; his Bio-engineering separating into its slots had caused more questions that the System didn't deem him worthy of explaining.
....
System message: Snakeroot Operative Beheaded. Snakeroot Relationship: Curious. Reward(s): Lazarus Pit-Earth 3839
Cole hadn't expected much, but obtaining the Lazarus Pit, even one from Earth designation he didn't recognize, was a godsend. He had the Sarcophagus, and now this. Could he combine the two? Did this mean his people could become immortal, and what kind of flag was the System waving that he received this reward for interacting with a Snakeroot elite?
While shifting through the notifications and pondering the pit, another notification emerged.
'He had forgotten about this. It had taken him quicker to obtain a third or fourth person, depending on how you looked at his twin acclimation from before.
System message: Persona acclimation beginning...
System message: Third Persona has been confirmed. Host, please stand by.
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