The lit Zippo arced through the air and hit the pavent. The gasoline-soaked ground instantly ignited, erupting with a whoosh in a ball of blue-green fla.
A split-second later, the fire exploded outwards at an astonishing speed, consuming everything: the square, the fire truck, the ancient cathedral, and all the surrounding buildings. In less than a minute, the entire area was a raging inferno.
The crowd, which had fled to a safe distance, just stared, their faces blank. An 800-year-old monunt... gone. Just like that. Torched.
For the Parisians in the crowd, it was a gut-fucking-punch. Their history, their culture, their pride... was just... gone.
The searing wall of heat washed over them, so intense it stung their skin. That snapped them out of it. The screaming, the shouting, the panic... it echoed across the whole goddamn city.
Yeah, so people were heartbroken. But just as many ghoulish people were excitedly pulling out their phones, going live to cash in on the goddamn tragedy.
The internet being what it is, the news went global in minutes. The whole world was in shock.
And the arsonists themselves? Franklin and A-Train looked completely relaxed. They just strolled down the street, hopped into their stolen Audi, took one last look back to admire their handiwork, and peeled out, heading for the Louvre.
anwhile, the ergency lines in Paris were lting. The operators thought the first call was a prank. By the tenth, they were panicking and kicked it up the chain. A police chopper was scrambled, flew over the scene, and the pilots just... froze. The whole goddamn island was a column of fire, lighting up the city. The report went straight to the Chief, who called the President.
Notre Da... torched by terrorists. It was a national humiliation. The President was livid. He imdiately deployed the GIGN—France’s top counter-terror unit—to hunt the bastards down. He also ordered every fire truck in Paris to the scene.
Minutes later, the GIGN was in the air. But just as the President was dealing with that clusterfuck, the Police Chief called again. Another attack. This ti, at the Eiffel Tower.
"Those goddamn Jokers!" The President was apoplectic, slamming his fist on his desk.
Just a few months ago, this sa President had been a secret fan. Not because he liked cri, but because he hated being Arica’s bitch. The Joker Organization was crippling the US, economically and politically, and he was all for it. (Sure, he condemned them publicly, but who didn’t?) He just never, ever thought they’d be stupid enough to hit him.
"What the fuck is Arica playing at?!" He roared. "They can’t control their own monsters!" He got back on the line with the GIGN, splitting their forces. "Send a team to the Tower. Now!"
Notre Da was a national disgrace. If he lost the Eiffel Tower too, his career was over.
The poor bastard had no idea. It wasn’t just two targets. The Louvre was next.
Franklin pulled the Audi right up to the Louvre’s glass pyramid. The square was half-empty; most of the sheeple had run off to watch the fire. A handful of cops were standing at the entrance, staring at the orange glow in the distance, totally distracted.
Then they saw two n in Joker masks walking right toward them. Their brains short-circuited. And then ca the rage.
First the church, now the Louvre? The arrogance of these motherfuckers!
They didn’t even need to speak. They just pulled their goddamn guns. These pieces of shit didn’t deserve a trial. A bullet to the head was a kindness.
Franklin just looked at them, bored. "Take ’em out."
SWISH!
A blast of wind nearly tore Franklin’s hoodie off. He had to brace himself just to stay standing.
"Done," A-Train said, now standing right next to him. Franklin looked up. All the cops were in a pile, dead or dying.
"Let’s go."
They rembered the way from their "tour" and were at the Mona Lisa in minutes. They just stepped over the velvet rope and lifted the painting off the wall.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
The alarm scread. Footsteps pounded down the hall. Security.
"Yo, Franks, hold that tight. I’ll handle these pricks."
Franklin tucked the painting under his arm. "Yeah, make it fast."
"No problem." A-Train vanished. A second later, the screaming started.
Franklin just casually strolled toward the exit. The entire hallway was an abattoir. Bodies everywhere.
Only magic can beat magic. And only a supe can beat a supe. Any normal asshole who tries to step to them? They’re just begging for a miserable death.
.........
This was the night from hell for France’s governnt.
Notre Da. The Eiffel Tower. And now... the Louvre.
The President’s head was about to explode. What the FUCK was his intelligence agency doing?! But there was no ti for bla. He had to split the GIGN again, sending a third team to the museum. He had no choice.
He declared a national state of ergency. He was sending in the fucking army to sweep Paris.
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You can read advance Chapters and view R-18 images of the characters on pat reon page.
pat reon/GreenBlue17
500 power stones.
Top 50. All ti.
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