Craig Thomsen
A Righteous Man
A Righteous Man
A silver figure stood quite heroically upon a skyscraper, looking upon the dawn peeking over the Pacific skyline that faced Pandora City, California. However, this figure was not a hero, rather the opposite, but it was quite impossible to pose villainously, and it was not as if the pose of arms crossed, head up and cape fluttering in the wind. Pausing his musing, he leapt off the skyscraper, gravity doing its work against him, until it was revoked. And then Craig Thomsen rose, his silver wings glinting. He flew over the city, his armor luminescent through the electric-blue lines that flowed through it, humming with power. As he headed into some of the dirtier places in town, rampant with crime and gang violence which the heroes ignored in the name of maintaining the balance in the city. But then he spotted the signature red sleeves of the Reapers. His father's gang.
The young villain's face behind his helmet twisted into a snarl as he landed silently on a warehouse just above them, dimming the lights of his armor without a second thought as he glared at the gang members transporting drugs. His father, Michael was a cruel man who had done more than beat his son repeatedly. He had humiliated Craig, and for that, he would pay. In a twisted way, his father would be proud of him if he killed him and took over the Reapers. But the Reapers were filth, ants scurrying about because they were beneath everyone, even the pathetic heroes. And yet...they had shot him in a moment of weakness. No, he would not take over the Reapers. He would bring them to nothingness, to ash, and then, from the cold ashes of their bodies he would build a better group, a better city, and eventually, a better world. The heroes couldn't do it, unwilling to get their hands dirty, thinking that it was all a game. They had power, but no control. The few villains he knew of in Pandora City were timid and weak. He was uniquely and solely fitted to his mission, his crusade. And there was nothing more genuinely terrifying in the world than a righteous man on a crusade. A good man on a mission set guidelines, created lines and chains to bind himself and so, reinforce the perception in his own mind of his goodness. But no man was good. An evil man was chaotic, running away when he failed, willing to demean himself to accomplish little in the end. But a truly righteous man could not be stopped because they believed in themselves and in the righteousness of their crusade. Deus Vult, said the Crusaders and though they had often failed in their mission, they always kept coming, for God willed it. And what God willed, let no man prevent. He would be that unstoppable force, not a shining candle that burned bright and died fast, nor a darkness that destroyed himself. In this world, there was good, there was evil and there was grey. He was that grey, unbowed by the morals of feeble men, unbroken by the machinations of his enemies and unbent to his betters, for there were none.
And so Craig pounced, letting the blue and grey aura of his armor fill the alley. His metal boots crunched on the sidewalk, and he slowly reached up to his back and withdrew a disc. But this was no frisbee, as shown by the thousands of volts that surrounded the disc as it crackled with electricity. The 10 Reapers transporting their package turned to see him. Two ran on sight, but Craig swung his arm and two identical disks flew from their progenitor, bouncing off the alley wall and hitting them both in the head.
"Rats." One of them whispered, "It's a cape."
"Your powers of observation are unparalleled, Reaper, perhaps it is you who is the metahuman. Your name, for your approaching beatdown, will be Captain Obvious," replied Craig, designating the aforementioned Reaper with that name in his sensors.
"Fill him with lead, boys!" shouted the leading Reaper, before opening fire.
Craig smiled beneath his mask, and let them fire, even doing them the courtesy of disengaging most of his armor, leaving only his helmet on and himself clad in normal clothes. But as the bullets hit him, they passed through, to no affecting, Craig absorbing them, leading to curses by the Reapers as they emptied their ammo and rushed to reload or charge him.
ANALYZING...
Analyzing...
Seven-hundred and thirty-five 7.62x39mm Bullets, Discharged by several AK-47s. Rifles possessed a muzzle velocity of 715 meters per second...converting to superior U.S.A units, 2,350 feet per second...
Craig stopped his power before it gave him a complete analysis of the bullets, their origins, manufacturers, how to replicate them and possible uses. Instead, his bio-impact armor reactivated as he was hit by a club, and Craig again easily dispatched the owner, dragging the electrical disc across his chest quickly, making the Reaper scream and collapse. Then, Craig put the disc back on his back and said audibly, his voice deep and menacing despite his young age: "My turn". And then he discharged the 735 bullets out of his body, and the seven remaining Reapers collapsed, either groaning or silent. Craig chuckled, figuring that it was a good time to work on his villain chuckle and then began dragging them out onto the sidewalk by the street. Gathering his nanites, he tied up both the dead and wounded Reapers, securing their arms and legs and then tying the arm restraints to the leg restraints before bolting them to the pavement and to the wall. Observing his work, he started to move away, only to stop and turn back to the gang members, drawing out his disc once again. This time, it was all but aflame, the heat of the disc frightening the Reapers who were still alive. But he did not brand men, not even worthless ones like the Reapers. Instead, he fiddled with his disc a bit, modifying it and then pressed it to the wall, burning the image, his insignia, into the wall to show that this had been his work. It was relatively simple, the circle of his disc surrounded by two silver wings.
Then, he burst up into the sky, not minding the flashes and shouts as pictures of him, his work, and his insigna were taken. He had no doubt that they would be up on Supra later. Grinning to himself, he headed to a discrete location to change and check Supra.
