"Be careful! If you get injured, those guys in insurance will do their best not to pay anything!"
"Where’s the tape?!"
Dozens of people now surrounded the aftermath of Adam and Bjorn’s battle, and there were yellow tapes fluttering everywhere in the morning breeze, sectioning off whatever remained of the building. And even after three days, the cleanup crews were still pulling chunks of concrete due to the sheer destruction of their fight.
"Jesus H. Christ..." The fire chief wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Still can’t believe we still haven’t found any casualties. Whole damn building cos down, and nobody dies."
The neighborhood had practically been transford into a maze of ergency vehicles and different agency tents. Most of these tents, however, belonged to the IBAA.
Police cars blocked every street corner while IBAA vans clustered near the site. FBI agents in dark suits moved between the wreckage, taking photographs and everything else—their movents were limited, however, as the IBAA had already claid jurisdiction.
"Anything yet on your side?"
[Nothing yet, Suarez. How about we go ho and have a beer? We’ve been here for three days.]
"Keep looking." Agent Suarez of the IBAA adjusted his earpiece and approached a cluster of witnesses huddled near a food truck. Most were locals—hollow-eyed addicts who’d been living in the surrounding buildings when everything went to hell.
But then again, most of these people were probably already living like this even before this tragedy happened, Suarez thought.
"Tell again what you saw," Suarez said to a woman with dozens of track marks running up her arms.
She scratched at her neck, eyes darting everywhere except his face. "I told you already, man. There was this... this bang bang sound, like thunder but worse. Then the whole place just... boom."
"And you didn’t see anyone fighting?"
"Fighting?" She laughed, her thin chest almost caving in from the effort. "Nah, it was a dinosaur. Big green one with teeth like knives. Ate the building whole. Man, believe , man."
Suarez sighed and moved to the next witness, a man whose pupils were so dilated they looked like black holes.
"Aliens. This was done by alie—"
Suarez didn’t even waste any ti before moving on to another witness.
"Two guys," the man mumbled. "One was small, dark hair. Like a dwarf and like a tentacle for a face. Other was huge, blonde. Like twenty feet tall or sothing. They were dancing."
"Dancing?"
"Yeah, like... violent dancing. With lots of blood."
"You an fighting?"
"What? No, man. Shit. No one fights here. We’re all law-abiding citizens here."
"Right... and what did this blonde man looked like?"
"Aliens—"
Suarez walked away, rubbing his temples. Getting reliable testimony from drug addicts was... hard.
"Boss." His partner, Agent Williams, approached with an exhausted sigh. "I’m guessing you didn’t have any luck either?"
"Sa as yesterday. Half of them think it was aliens, the other half are convinced it was so kind of governnt conspiracy." Suarez gestured at the destruction around them. "What about the damage assessnt?"
Williams pulled out a tablet, scrolling through photos of the wreckage. "That’s what’s getting so of the boys worried. Look at these impact patterns."
The images showed certain parts of the destruction.
"F and E-tier Heroes can throw a decent punch," Williams said, "but this level of destruction? We’re looking at D-tier minimum. Maybe higher."
Suarez studied the photos more carefully, shaking his head and sighing at the photos.
"Morgan thinks we’re dealing with two C or B-tier Heroes," Williams continued. "And these two were probably in a death match."
"Then where are the bodies?" Suarez sighed. "We already know Heroes fought here, that’s why we’re here. But why isn’t there a single fucking corpse?"
"There’s sothing else," Williams said quietly. "One of the witnesses seed more lucid than the others. Said he saw soone with a mangled jaw."
"...Then we’ll look for soone with a mangled jaw." Suarez pressed on his temples. "I think this is what that other addict was saying when he said one of them had tentacles on their face. Jesus... I can’t believe our only witnesses are junkies."
"Heroes seed to be getting out of hand lately. Last week, there was a bank robbery. It’s really getting hard to control them."
"Control them...?" Suarez scoffed at his partner’s words. "The IBAA doesn’t control Heroes. We rely regulate them and hope they comply. And speaking of regulation... why the fuck is there not a single working security cara in this entire neighborhood?!"
Every building they’d checked had either broken caras or none at all. Well, knowing the neighborhood, they were also probably stolen.
Suarez was about to complain about sothing again, but soone from the rubble shouted.
"Sir! I think we found sothing!"
"Yes!"
Suarez and Williams rushed toward the cleanup crew, who had stopped their excavation around a twisted piece of tal. One of the workers was pointing at sothing buried beneath a concrete slab.
"Careful," Suarez ordered as they lifted the debris. "Don’t contaminate the evidence."
What erged made both agents stop breathing.
"Finally..." Suarez whispered.
It was a sword. And just from the fact that the sheet was only scratched, even with all the damage that surrounded it... it was clearly a weapon made with materials from Leaks.
"Fucking finally," Suarez repeated. "A lead."
"That thing’s beautiful. Shit."
Williams approached the rummage, pulling out a glove from his chest pocket and using it to pick up the sword—only for him to almost trip from how heavy the weapon actually was.
"I told you to be careful!" Suarez shook his head. "Just prepare a bag so we can send it to the local po—Wait."
Suarez quickly approached, carefully snatching the weapon from his partner. He turned it, his head leaning closer as he squinted at the poml. And there, so small it was almost invisible, was a tiny symbol etched into the tal. A hamr crossed with a rose.
Suarez’s eyes went wide. "Jesus H. Christ."
"What is it?"
"This was crafted by the Echo Smith." Suarez’s eyes turned wide. "By hand."
"Woah." Williams whistled low. "So whoever we’re dealing with..."
"Has connections. Big ones." Suarez looked around the destruction again. "We’re done here. Call HQ... and tell them we need to reach Ilyana."
***
Sowhere else, in a sterile white room, Bjorn hung suspended against the wall. Thick tal cuffs, nearly a foot wide, completely covered and bound his hands and feet. He was naked, his mangled face from his fight with Adam was healed now, but still swollen.
"Rember what I told you, Bjorn?"
There was a man standing before him—the very sa man who ordered him to capture Adam. But right now, he wore a white coat, and a na tag was attached to his chest.
A na tag that read ’Dr. Aniston’. The sa surna as the old woman who had hunted Adam for years. This Dr. Aniston didn’t look like the old female doctor at all, however.
His skin was dark, and he was clearly of South Asian descent.
"I told you that failure wasn’t an option," the doctor smiled. "You had one job. Retrieve Patient Zero. Instead, you almost risked being discovered. And we had to retrieve you."
Bjorn strained against his bonds, the tal cuffs groaning under the pressure.
"Oh...?" Dr. Aniston stepped back, genuinely surprised. "Fascinating. Even sedated and restrained, you’re still fighting."
He shook his head in disgust. "Your kind really annoys . So much uncontrolled power, so little discipline. And to think there are thousands of you out there. But... h."
The doctor walked to the side of the room and began wheeling over so sort of machine. A heavy hydraulic arm, supporting a central apparatus topped with a large needle almost the width of a finger.
"Hrng?!" Bjorn’s struggles intensified, the wall itself beginning to crack under the strain.
"Now, now," Dr. Aniston said, flipping switches on the machine. "This will only hurt for a mont. Well, perhaps longer than a mont... and then everything would beco quiet."
The machine humd to life, and Dr. Aniston aid the needle right at the center of Bjorn’s chest.
"Well then..." he whispered, the smile on his face turning darker as he looked Bjorn straight in the eyes.
"...shall we see what modern science can do?"
And with those words, the needle drilled right into Bjorn’s heart.
***
"Is... this the place?"
Sowhere else, Adam erged from a taxi, checking his phone as he stood before a massive gray building. The building covered a large area, almost making Adam fully turn his neck to the side just to see both ends of it.
The design was simple, with sharp angles and overly deep windows. He wasn’t even sure if there was any glass.
Adam returned his phone to his pocket and patted his waist several tis. He gazed down and then sighed as he once again rembered his lost sword.
"Clentine... would forgive , right?" he whispered, shaking his head as he looked at the large signboard next to him.
’International Battle Arena Association - Hero Capability Evaluation Wing’
Forward now, Adam. It’s ti you stop hiding yourself from the world.
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