The Curtains Part Episode 1 (Superhero RP IC)

[Flarbinia]

Los Angeles, California
"You are lucky that I know about the existence of 'Non-Existent Persons", Alice. Despite what Hollywood wants people to believe, most people in LA don't give a rat's ass about the homeless. As for your situation, you will need a costume to conceal your identity, especially when you have the Mephistopheles Institute gunning for you." Janus Caldera said to Alice Jade as she escorted her to an elevator, statues of Greek Gods on either side of the hall. Once they reach the elevator, a Laser Turret drops from the ceiling and points at Lisa, uttering a warning in Klingon as Janus places her hand on a palm print scanner and stares at a retinal scanner. "Jango Fett." Janus says into a voice recognition device as she typed in the nine-digit code, the Laser Turret withdrawing into the ceiling as the elevator doors opened. "I may be designing clothes for Supermodels, but I used to create costumes for Superheroes. You can't be too careful when Supervillains could be gunning for you. As for the voice code, I was tempted to use Boba Fett, but then I remembered that everyone who's heard of Star Wars has heard of Boba Fett, even if they fuck up the pronunciation, so I chose to use his dear old dad's name instead." Janus Caldera said to Alice Jade as they entered the elevator.
The Atlantic
"Sir, we will be rendezvousing with your luxury yacht at 0600, sir." A robot resembling an Army Men version of Curtis Lemay said to a man seated on a throne of gilded plastic, his employer's face hidden by a power armor resembling a Football player. "Excellent. This journey was expensive, but it will be worth it to introduce myself to my archnemesis. Besides, even if my submarine could enter US waters undetected, it's impossible to surface it without everyone from the local lifeguard to the Navy getting up in arms over it." The man in the power army said to his robotic second-in-command.
Hephaestus Arms Corporate Headquarters. Minneapolis, Minnesota
Aoriyama Tadakaga entered his office and pressed a button on his desk, a hidden door raising up to reveal a seemingly empty room. Green light shimmers as he enters the room, sitting down in a chair behind an ebony desk with legs decorated with bronze serpents, the light of the gilded oil lantern being reflected off of the laptop on the desk and a display case containing a suit of Samurai armor with the head and tail of the snake on the helmet pointing upward. "Holographic Disguise Array. Rejected military prototype. Decades ahead of what the music industry is using. It would net me a king's ransom if the average homeowner could afford an entertainment center that costs one million in parts alone. Speaking of money, do you have the goods, Sidewinder? I didn't pay you forty billion in unmarked bills upfront for you to show up empty handed." Aoriyama said to an old man dressed in a navy-blue costume with silver winds on it, the Supervillain handing him the USB. "The thief got it without it so much as being scratched. Not bad for a man who can transform into battery acid. Once these things are tested and mass produced, my company is guaranteed to get a contract with the US Airforce. Of course, we will have to rename them and make a few alterations to the design to avoid legal issues, but the millions will be worth it." The CEO said to Sidewinder as he placed the USB drive in the laptop, the elderly Supervillain leaving the room through a door marked "Authorized Personnel Only" as a bodybuilder walked out from the shadows. "Why didn't you send me to acquire the blueprints from Daedalus? You know I hate this cloak and dagger bullshit, Serpent." The bodybuilder said to Aoriyama as the CEO pulled out a cigar and lit it. "Using a club that can possibly be traced back to me when I can obtain my goal without leaving any fingerprints would bring down unnecessary heat on Hephaestus Arms. Besides, I have a more important mission for you, my shapeshifting friend. The corporate spies I hired to infiltrate Gilgamesh Armor have informed me that the company is sending their prototype Exosuit to the Tech Expo in Seoul. It would kill the sale of the Theseus, as it would make IFVs obsolete. You are to hijack the ship, kill the crew, divert it to North Korean waters, and sink the ship. The loss of the prototype will cost them the contract with the South Korean Military. Combined with the bad PR of their Union woes, their stock will plummet, allowing Hephaestus Arms to acquire a controlling stake." Aoriyama replied, the mysterious man leaving the room.

[Observation Post 13]

Downtown LA, Lincoln Heights

Willis closes all the cabinets in the kitchen; picking up a box of cheery O's and stuffing it in his back pocket. There are no more sweets left so he's gonna get some more.

He walks out of the kitchen, grabs his leather jacket from the couch, and puts it on before walking out of the hybrid bedroom and leaving his apartment.

Outside, Willis heads down the street to a local chain store, Sal's Groceries, which is conveniently located only around two blocks away. The candy bars are on discount... And stops dead on his tracks when he sees a car parked on the side of the road. It's a 1969 Fort Stallion.

Willis starts to think. He doesn't have a car, and this car looks beautiful. Whoever owns this must be either rich or a local mobster.

It looks like a magnet for chicks and a shredder for gas money; the store is just around the block, but this thing is too good to pass up.

So Willis imagines himself as an experienced car burglar. He moves closer to the vehicle and waited until the coast is mostly clear.

And so, Willis sticks his finger into the lock and begin to wiggle it, Up, Up, Down, Down, Left, Right, Left, Right. Breaking the window would be a bad idea, because one, he's gonna be sitting inside, and sitting on glass is something he doesn't wanna do, and two, it would trigger the alarm, which will keep going until the battery dies.

After a few ups and downs on his fingerpick, CLICK*, it's open. He opens up the driver's door and takes a seat. The comfy leather seat welcomes him as he closes the door. Also there's a weird smell in the air, but the car looks great, so Willis doesn't mind.

Thankfully, this car was made in the 70's or 80's, so now comes the fun part. Just like in the movies he crack open the board under the steering wheel and attempts to hotwire the car. Cutting open the ignition and battery cable with his nails, Willis then made them touch together, creating a spark every time the two ends touch, and suddenly, VROOOOM! The engine roars.

"LETS GOO!" Willis smiled at himself, a bit amazed at the finesse of his handling despite this being the second time he's tried stealing a car. He wraps the two cables together before sitting back up, releasing the handbrake, putting the car into gear, then driving to the grocery store, which is just around the block.

[Observation Post 13]

...

In moments, Willis arrives in front of the store. He parks his car at the curb, into the little parking space with the stop sign.

There's a man in a hoodie sitting alone near the entrance to the store, casually lighting up a cigarette. Willis puts the gear in neutral and climbs out of the car, and enters the store. The doors greet him with a little Ding*.

Giving a little nod to the cashier, Willis walks down the aisle after picking up a basket. He browses through the shelves looking for things he should buy. A handful of airheads, then to the refrigerated section for some bottled water, icecream, and a stick of butter. Feeling the content in his shopping basket, Willis walks up to the counter and spreads the items in front of the cashier. The man, putting down his phone, starts scanning the items. Beep, beep...

*DING*

The door to the side opens. "DON'T TURN AROUND!" Someone shouts at Willis. "THIS IS A ROBBERY!!"

"Yes, I can see that," The cashier says nonchalantly.

Willis can hear a gun CLICK from behind him. Closing his eyes, Willis senses two figures, possibly armed?, walking into the store, one placing himself behind Willis (probably aiming a gun directly at his head), while the other is moving to the counter. This robbery is probably planned, since the register can only be opened upon purchase and they timed it perfectly. Willis decides to name them baddie #1 and #2.

Resisting the urge to look back, Willis instead focuses on the cashier, who has opened up the cash register and pulls out all of the money inside, starting with the quarters. Then he drops some of the quarters and says, "Oops."

The cashier goes beneath the counter to grab the fallen coins, and the baddie near the counter lurches forward as he tries to see what the cashier is doing under the counter.

"HEY! WHATCHA GOT UNDER THERE?" The baddie behind Willis says, pointing the gun past the side of Willis's head. It's now or never ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Willis hurls his body back, crashing into the baddie behind him with an elbow to the ribcage. Willis uses his feet and kicks the counter to push himself and the baddie away from it. The gun flies out of baddie #1's hands, but baddie #2 turns around, BANG BANG BANG!!!, shooting through Willis multiple times.

||GAME OVER||

The cashier pops back up from the counter with a shotgun, BOOM! - blasts baddie #2 so hard it felt like an invisible boot kicked the robber on his back; slumps onto the floor, deader than your grandma. Baddie #1 throws his hands up and starts screaming "DON'TSHOOTOHSHITOHSHIT" as the cashier trains the shotgun on him.

Willis lays sprawled on the ground, but no blood comes out. He is pretty dead tho (Health < 0). Disappointed at his own performance, he severs the connection to this body after the cashier dials for the cops.

Unseen by most, a ghostly apparition casually shoots out of the store's roof, hovers in the air for a brief moment, before dashing in a straight line back to Lincoln Heights.

[Odinburgh]

LAX Security Check

Alice Jade was standing in line in security at LAX airport waiting to go to go thru to get to her gate to go to Florida on vacation. While in line security guard pulled her side and noticed something about her id card. It didn't check out. "Come with me.", the security guard said. She tried to reject but she was pulled by him tightly has she forced to comply to follow him. in a room she a man she never saw before.

"Charlotte Jordan. Or I should say Alice Jade. You are wanted on the charges of theft of a computer flash drive with sensitive information on it. That means you are on the no fly list. Don't even try to wiggle out this time. We all know about your powers. The lab accident in Los Angeles at the Alsworth drug company trying to steal a proto type drug to suppress your powers."

"No fly list? Someone is framing for a crime I did not commit. It wasn't me. I swear.", Alice Jade replied.

[Flarbinia]

"Earth to Alice. You need to focus on the present." Janus Caldera said to Alice Jade as she slapped her back to reality. "Sorry about that, but I can't have you daydreaming during the showroom presentation." Janus said to Alex as the elevator reached a subbasement, the lights turning on in dramatic fashion as the doors opened, revealing several display cases full of Superhero costumes. "As you can see, I've got costumes that can change size with the wearer, costumes that can withstand the G-Forces created by running at Superhuman speed, costumes with pouches and spiked shoulder pads, costumes with utility belts, armored costumes, regular costumes, I've got a costume for every type of Super." Janus said to Alice as she escorted her towards the center of the room, pointing to display cases.

[Odinburgh]

"Earth to Alice. You need to focus on the present." Janus Caldera said to Alice Jade as she slapped her back to reality. "Sorry about that, but I can't have you daydreaming during the showroom presentation." Janus said to Alex as the elevator reached a subbasement, the lights turning on in dramatic fashion as the doors opened, revealing several display cases full of Superhero costumes. "As you can see, I've got costumes that can change size with the wearer, costumes that can withstand the G-Forces created by running at Superhuman speed, costumes with pouches and spiked shoulder pads, costumes with utility belts, armored costumes, regular costumes, I've got a costume for every type of Super." Janus said to Alice as she escorted her towards the center of the room, pointing to display cases.

"Yes okay. I need to talk to someone after this. Do you have any protective head gear that stops a person controlling minds?", Alice replied.

[Flarbinia]

"I will have to do some remodeling to get it down to your size, but I do have the perfect costume for you." Janus Caldera said to Alice Jace as she picked up a remote and pressed a button, a conveyor belt taking them to viewing area. "Your costume is bulletproof, can withstand up to eighty-five thousand degrees, can take multiple direct hits from Stinger missiles without the wearer being harmed, and is machine washable. The cherry on top is the helmet. The additional padding protects you from knives, swords, and alligator bites. The mysterious extraterrestrial alloy is completely impervious to all psychic attacks and conceals the top half of your face. All for the low price of being your exclusive designer until the end of time." Janus Caldera said to Alice as a mannequin wearing the costume entered a sterile white area that was separated from the rest of the showroom by protective glass windows. Suddenly, the costume was ingulfed by the beam of a laser cannon, twenty-one M60's opened fire on it, a volley of Stinger missiles flew towards it and exploded on impact, robotic arms tossed throwing knives at it before retracting into the walls, blades hacked away at it, and an alligator bit down on the leg. The smoke cleared, revealing that, save for some slashes and bite marks, the costume was completely unscathed.

[Odinburgh]

"I will have to do some remodeling to get it down to your size, but I do have the perfect costume for you." Janus Caldera said to Alice Jace as she picked up a remote and pressed a button, a conveyor belt taking them to viewing area. "Your costume is bulletproof, can withstand up to eighty-five thousand degrees, can take multiple direct hits from Stinger missiles without the wearer being harmed, and is machine washable. The cherry on top is the helmet. The additional padding protects you from knives, swords, and alligator bites. The mysterious extraterrestrial alloy is completely impervious to all psychic attacks and conceals the top half of your face. All for the low price of being your exclusive designer until the end of time." Janus Caldera said to Alice as a mannequin wearing the costume entered a sterile white area that was separated from the rest of the showroom by protective glass windows. Suddenly, the costume was ingulfed by the beam of a laser cannon, twenty-one M60's opened fire on it, a volley of Stinger missiles flew towards it and exploded on impact, robotic arms tossed throwing knives at it before retracting into the walls, blades hacked away at it, and an alligator bit down on the leg. The smoke cleared, revealing that, save for some slashes and bite marks, the costume was completely unscathed.

"Woah! That's freaking amazing.", Alice Jade exclaimed. "Anything else? What about my identity? Maybe I should go with alternate identity. Or maybe people just care who I am. Just want to please the citizens. So point me the way where I go next."

[Flarbinia]

"This costume previously belonged to an alien Superhero who went by the name Star Sentinel, so that will be your Superhero name. He could shoot Photon Beams from his hands, fly at Mach 7, and punch through the armor of a tank like it was Paper Mache. Tragically, his career came to a tragic end when Nuke-A-Saurus lured him into a room filled with gamma radiation, which was the original Star Sentinel's weakness. In case you are wondering, Nuke-A-Saurus is a late '60's era D-List Supervillain who wears a dinosaur costume with built-in nuclear-powered lasers and is too stubborn to retire. Fortunately for us, you won't have to worry about enemies shooting you with gamma rays, Alice. I've added a layer of lead to the costume to protect the wearer from such dangers, though it only protects the parts that the costume actually covers, and battle damage can limit its effectiveness. Speaking of battle damage, I also provide repairs for costumes, but it can take anywhere from a few days to six months to repair a costume, depending on the complexity of the design and the materials used to make it." Janus Caldera said to Alice Jade as the mannequin exited the testing area.

[Odinburgh]

"This costume previously belonged to an alien Superhero who went by the name Star Sentinel, so that will be your Superhero name. He could shoot Photon Beams from his hands, fly at Mach 7, and punch through the armor of a tank like it was Paper Mache. Tragically, his career came to a tragic end when Nuke-A-Saurus lured him into a room filled with gamma radiation, which was the original Star Sentinel's weakness. In case you are wondering, Nuke-A-Saurus is a late '60's era D-List Supervillain who wears a dinosaur costume with built-in nuclear-powered lasers and is too stubborn to retire. Fortunately for us, you won't have to worry about enemies shooting you with gamma rays, Alice. I've added a layer of lead to the costume to protect the wearer from such dangers, though it only protects the parts that the costume actually covers, and battle damage can limit its effectiveness. Speaking of battle damage, I also provide repairs for costumes, but it can take anywhere from a few days to six months to repair a costume, depending on the complexity of the design and the materials used to make it." Janus Caldera said to Alice Jade as the mannequin exited the testing area.

"You mean you don't have a few spares I can have in the closet. Anything else I should know?", Alice Jade replied.

[Flarbinia]

"There are few people in California who have Superpowers, so don't expect there to be many Supervillains to fight. This state is considered a launching off point for many Superheroes for that very reason. The few Supervillains that have made their base of operations in this state are still dangerous and all you have are Heightened Senses and a Healing Factor, so be careful if you have to fight them. No theatrics, no catchphrases, no cliché heroic speeches. Your goal is to win a fight as quickly as possible, not to look cool. Now that we've gotten that out of the way, it is time we head back upstairs. If you're going to be staying in my guest room until the costume has been fully remodeled, I might as well give you a tour of the whole place. There is an abandoned warehouse, in case you are wondering where you'll go once you've gotten your costume. I will provide you with some money to set up shop and hook you up with someone who can handle the technical stuff so that you won't have to turn it into a Superhero base on your own. It won't be much, but it is a start." Janus Caldera said to Alice Jade as she began to head towards the elevator.

[Odinburgh]

"There are few people in California who have Superpowers, so don't expect there to be many Supervillains to fight. This state is considered a launching off point for many Superheroes for that very reason. The few Supervillains that have made their base of operations in this state are still dangerous and all you have are Heightened Senses and a Healing Factor, so be careful if you have to fight them. No theatrics, no catchphrases, no cliché heroic speeches. Your goal is to win a fight as quickly as possible, not to look cool. Now that we've gotten that out of the way, it is time we head back upstairs. If you're going to be staying in my guest room until the costume has been fully remodeled, I might as well give you a tour of the whole place. There is an abandoned warehouse, in case you are wondering where you'll go once you've gotten your costume. I will provide you with some money to set up shop and hook you up with someone who can handle the technical stuff so that you won't have to turn it into a Superhero base on your own. It won't be much, but it is a start." Janus Caldera said to Alice Jade as she began to head towards the elevator.

"Alright give me the name of your tech person and I will be on my way."

[Flarbinia]

Knight Of Chalices Casino. Las Vegas, Nevada
"That vigilante who's been givin' you trouble has been bumped off in an LA liquor store by a couple of nobodies with 'Born To Lose' tattoos on their chests, Jack. Saw the whole thing through the security cam thanks to the backdoor in its security system." A man with a machinegun in a playing card themed costume said to a blonde man with as his employer exited his private elevator, his Henchmen removing his business attire and helping him get into his Jack Of Hearts costume. "It's a damn shame that it wasn't one of my men who removed that thorn from my side, but no matter. The fuckers did the deed and the price I placed on that runt's head will be transferred to the accounts of their next of kin once they've paid for robbing a store under my protection." Jack said to the Henchman in a disinterested tone as he sat down on a throne of tin plated aluminum encrusted with Amethyst Hearts. "You sound disappointed, Jack." The Henchman said to Jack. "Crime is no fun without Captain Democracy, Cesare. I mean, he's basically Batman with Captain America's powers. That is the most badass foe that the Knave Of Hearts can hope to trade blows with. You remember that abandoned mansion we turned into a labyrinth with Wonderland themed death traps?" Jack said to the Henchman, the Henchmen laughing as the thought. "Look out, Alice. The Chesire Cat's paws might squash your head flat." Cesare joked. "Though my personal favorite was that abandoned warehouse with the floor we turned into a giant Chessboard and rigged with motion detectors to make the giant chess pieces move. I won't deny that my Henchmen found it odd that I chose to reference Alice Through The Looking Glass when there is no Knave Of Hearts in that book, but it was a necessary change in pace from the Wonderland shtick that allowed us to keep the Alice Motif." The Knave Of Hearts said to Cesare. "That one was a classic. Move the wrong way and zap, you're deep fried on the spot. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if Commander Democracy added the Kings and Queens to his trophy collection." Cesare said to the Knave Of Hearts.

[Observation Post 13]

Still LA, Apartment


Willis awakens and his hand shoots for a side pocket where he kept his phone - before realizing that all his clothes were gone except his underwear(Either way Willis doesn't use his pockets for storage anymore). Getting up from the couch, he changes into a fresh set of clothes, then settles beside his desk with his laptop and pours himself a cup of water out of habit. He opens a search engine and types "Lincoln Heights Greg's Groceries Shootout", before hitting enter.

Your search - Lincoln Heights Greg's Groceries Shootout - did not match any documents.

Frowning, Willis scrolls down but only finds articles of most recent shootings, sightings, and gossip of various villains and heroes. He tries different combinations of keywords but nothing of note catches his interest. As Willis mindlessly crawls and refreshes the webpages, his system freezes, and a command-line-like text window opens.

***
19:05
MODERATOR >> Hey kid, you'd want to see this.
3.3.0.2.2 >> Who is this?
MODERATOR >> I have intel on the guys that just shot you. I can help.

19:12
3.3.0.2.2 >> Okay, show me what you've got.
***

The command window flashes a couple of times, and a new icon appears on Willis's desktop named PUNISHER. Without clicking it, Willis sees the program run and a small window opens. Inside contains a basic map which closely resembles the USA and little red marks dotted across, clustered around major cities, linking with each other into a spiderweb. Out of curiosity, Willis hovers his mouse pointer on one of the red marks, and another window pops up, which reads in bold: INFORMATION CLASSIFIED. THE DOCUMENT CAN NOT BE REACHED.

***
MODERATOR >> There's all the info on criminal gangs and super-villains in your area. Each marker is another reminder of the American government's incompetency. Updated daily. Works kinda like a dating app, but your matches have guns and probably want to shoot you dead.
3.3.0.2.2 >> Who are you and why are you helping me?
MODERATOR >> We're an anonymous group of activists, so it isn't surprising that you're unaware of our presence online. Our contacts are spread throughout the country, keeping tabs on all the villains and their schemes, using the government's own surveillance system. So yeah, I guess you can call us vigilantes, or batman, or whatever. We're helping you because we believe in a world where actions have consequences. An eye for an eye.
3.3.0.2.2 >> Why can't I open any of the markers?
MODERATOR >> Your 'clearance' isn't high enough yet.
***

A small file-transfer progress bar appears on Willis's screen. The names of dozens of files scroll across the bar.

***
MODERATOR >> I am now uploading files to your system, gathered by my group. We believe that we've tracked down the perpetrators and their affiliates. These files were procured from government surveillance servers, law enforcement databases, all raw and unedited. People in this nation deserve to live in peace and not have to worry about being blown up as a bystander in the crossfire of Homme Superior vs Archduke Laser Von Buzzard, or whatever the fuck. The fact that you don't have to worry about death gives me a reason to think that you should be one of us.
***

Willis took a gulp of water to wet his throat, uncomfortable at the thought that someone, a group, already knows about his abilities, and whether it's a good idea to trust these guys at all. Opening the files that MODERATOR just sent him, Willis saw a couple of things that clicked with him. 'Knave Of Hearts', a payment transferred to his killers, an abandoned factory... Assuming everything on here is true, what are his next steps? What can he do?

***
19:22
3.3.0.2.2 >> I'm interested, but I need bigger guns.
MODERATOR >> Good. Our agents will get in contact with you pronto. Are you proficient in any particular weapons?
3.3.0.2.2 >> Wish_list.pdf

19:34
MODERATOR >> ... Okay, as long as you can handle them. Look out for delivery with a crossed eye sticker.

***

The connection terminates.

Closing his laptop, Willis rubs his temple, his eyes staring at the ceiling. Just what has he gotten himself into?

*Diiiiiiiiiiing Dooooooooong...*

Someone's at the door.

[Flarbinia]

"Special Delivery for a mister DOCTOR_TRIPLE_KILL." The delivery man said to the occupant of the apartment as he looked through the peephole, referring to him by his Gamertag. He did not know what was in the large package or why there was a gamertag on the list instead of a name, only that whoever had sent the package had paid the extra fee for same day shipping and that it was a heavy package that made a lot of noise during the drive over. A rattling noise that was associated with small pieces of metal. Was it parts to overclock his console? Gamers sometimes made modifications to old consoles so that their games run as fast and effectively as the ones currently on the market, the legal consequences of violating the Terms Of Service be damned to Hell. judging by how many of them there were in the box, the delivery man could only assume that the occupant of the apartment must have several of them, all big ones.

[Observation Post 13]

There was a moment of silence before the sound of turning locks are heard from the other side. The door swung open halfway, almost catching the delivery man off-balance. A figure leans against the doorframe (Willis) wearing a large cowboy sombrero and cheap shades that hide the movement of their eyes.

"Hey-hey, that would be me." Spotting a cross-eye sticker on top of the box, Willis scrutinized the delivery man as he switches to a more irritated tone. "Can you show me the sender's contact info? ...I'm sick and tired of soyjaks sending me exploding glitter bombs and used condoms because they lost a match to me, so wanna make sure this package came from a trusted source."

Fishing out a couple of crumpled-up bills from his back pocket, Willis continued. "But thanks for coming."

[Flarbinia]

"All I know about whoever sent you this package is that he paid for same day delivery and that the package he sent was the heaviest package I've delivered this month. Besides, Glitter Bombs don't rattle, so you don't have to worry about that. You don't deliver packages for five years without a few of them being pranks." The Delivery Man said to the occupant of the apartment as he handed him the clipboard. "Now that we've gotten those little details out of the way, just sign on the dotted line and I'll be out of here in a New York minute. " The delivery man said to the occupant of the apartment as he carefully placed the package on the floor. Being a delivery man, he had to deal with rude customers on a daily basis, but never one who asked him for somebody else's contact information.

[Observation Post 13]

Quickly signing his gamer tag,

ᦔꪮᥴꪻꪮ᥅_ꪻ᥅꠸ρꪶꫀ_ᛕ꠸ꪶꪶ
on the clipboard,

Willis hands the tips and clipboard back to the Deliver Man, then picks up the hefty package beside his feet with some effort. The package feels heavy and when he hefts it against his arm the insides rattle.

"Bye-bye."

Closing, then locking the door again, Willis makes his way back to his hybrid bedroom, package in hand. He draws the curtains close before thumping the cardboard package against the floor. First, Willis rips the tape which unseals the package. Opening the lid, Willis sees a black duffle bag stuffed on top of a beige-colored army surplus crate. Willis heaved the duffel bag to his bed, prioritizing the army surplus crate first, which he noticed is devoid of most identifying markers and the manufacturing date has been scrubbed off.

Removing the army surplus crate from the package, Willis cracks the cleat of the crate to find a green plastic ammo container on one side of the crate and a chrome weapon suitcase on the other, with a divider in the middle and a can-opener-shaped key laying on top. Label on the ammo container reads

11 X 5.5 X 7 | 69 -13- 420 | 1500 ROUNDS | ARMOR-PIERCING

so Willis plugs the pointy end of the key into the ammo container's orifice then unwinds the key until the latches come loose with a *pop*. Lifting the cover, Willis is greeted by 4 bulging bundles packed together, and the permeating smell of evil(gunpowder). Each bundle holds roughly 375 AP rounds held in strips of paper spacers between each row of ammunition. Willis removed one bundle, then closed the ammo container before stashing it under his bed.

Proceeding to the weapon suitcase, Willis used the same key to unlock the padlock. The suitcase slid open revealing parts of a sniper rifle among other accessories in velvet slots. Willis reminded himself to assemble this later...

*THUMP!*

Willis freezes on the spot, jerking up. The sound came from the floor above him...

But nothing happens.

Checking the windows and the peephole, a paranoid Willis paced back to his bed, unzipping the black duffel bag. Removing the air-tight tarp wrapped on the inside, Willis finds rows of reagent containers in honeycombed dividers in the lower stack, clean syringes, bottled pills in the middle stack, and various other chemicals compounded in small plastic bags in the upper stack of the duffel bag.

Now, to reorganize everything.

...

A few minutes later, the ammo, guns, and drugs are safely hidden away under the bed, in the closet, and up the bathroom cupboards. To avoid suspicion all scraps from the package are kept in a special trash bag, marked for non-disposal.

Booting up his computer, Willis reopened the files MODERATOR gave him to go over them again, this time feeling much more prepared.

[Observation Post 13]

Willis stared at the display screen of his laptop, one hand playing bullet catch as a .50 cal round bounces up and down his left palm.

The files claim that this particular Knave of Hearts hideout is located in downtown L.A., at an intersection between crime-ridden residential areas and an anonymous industrial zone tucked away from Main Avenue in the south of the city. The factory produced civilian goods but legal woes kept it from making profit, and as people around the factory sold off their properties to relocate to more desirable parts of the city, the factory was abandoned and fell into disrepair. Recently a shell company with close ties to KOH(Knaves of Hearts) bought the factory for pennies on the dollar and converted the factory into a dangerous arms-smuggling facility.

As a key storage and transportation node for KOH's weapon-trafficking operations, the factory is zealously guarded and regularly patrolled, with its own surveillance system and heavily-armed goons on standby in case of emergency. There is reliable intelligence that KOH has recently deposited one of its largest weapon caches at the factory, and raiding the place would definitely deal a hard blow against KOH and put pressure on criminal organizations around the area. Local law enforcement is bribed and blackmailed into submission so Willis should not expect any help from the police for the duration of this operation.

A few photos are attached to the file, some dating all the way back to the grand opening of the factory showing off its facade. Willis opened a new window containing the blueprint for the factory and got to study its interior which is carved up to fit in as many conveyor belts as possible. Unfortunately, the live feeds provided by MODERATOR which are connected to the camera system around the factory were corrupted; someone must have patched the security loophole.

*Ding!*

The bullet bounced off the table and rolled off. Willis cracked his knuckles and got to work hacking downtown LA's traffic and video surveillance systems to take a closer and more up-to-date look at the factory.

...

It's late into the night as Willis puts in the finishing touches on his handy dandy tool. Even though his fingertips are swollen and red from the hour-long keyboard mashing, he finally got it working.

First, Willis boots up his custom software that automatically began looking for common, exploitable network system flaws in the district's electronic infrastructure. A few minutes and already Willis has gained access to the city's surveillance cams, its associated networks, and even the traffic lights. A few minutes more and Willis can even control the direction of the cams.

A gridded window fills the laptop's screen like a moving mosaic. The row of windows shows the main avenue flowing through the center of LA. Traffic stretch in all directions, the monotonous view broken on occasion by a highway car chase or accident. Jumping from camera to camera, Willis eventually deviates from cameras on Main Avenue and happens upon a row of cameras focused on the residential area next to the factory. Here, graffiti, street trash, and boarded-up homes increase in number the closer it gets to the factory, inversely proportionate to the number and resolution of active surveillance cameras, most of the screens completely dark or in grainy grey.

Luckily, as the factory comes into view, the software detects a local surveillance network that it can hijack. Silently thanking the person who used WIFI instead of hardwiring their cameras, Willis connected to a cam rigged next to a 3-story high rise overlooking the front entrance and the domed ceiling of the factory. A few goons are playing cards sitting under a table patio umbrella near the front of the factory, their pistols visible and packing heat. A figure blends into the aluminum ceiling smoking a cigarette, the glow illuminating their position, babying what appears to be a propped M40 without a suppressor. They are laying flat against the edge with a walkie-talkie and a sandwich wrapper to their side. A black SUV with plating covering its tires swerve behind the factory, briefly stopping to drop off a heavily armored goon lugging an M60 making their way to the catwalk. Changing the camera angle reveals a small loading bay attached to the side of the factory, its garage door opening to let the SUV inside. There are no cams on the inside of the factory. However, if Willis gets into proximity, he can maybe hack electronics inside the factory.

Running scripts of a facial recognition software ripped from law enforcement databases, Willis identifies some of the men in the camera as ex-criminals and gangsters who probably have never received formal training with their firearms. And as the M60 sentry began yelling and shaking his fist at the goons, startling them and interrupting their card game, the camera feeds dropped.

[Observation Post 13]

Time to gear up.

Willis opened his closet and carried out his chrome weapon briefcase dropping it on his bed. Opening the case, Willis took out the first half of the sniper rifle - the frame. Willis then removed the comically long barrel of the M107 sniper rifle out of the slot - resting the pipe down on the rail, pulling back the bolt, and watching the barrel sync snugly into the frame. Willis hammers down some pins, replaces the ironsight with a large scope, deflates the bipod, and screws on a boxy muzzle brake - with practiced finesse like a veteran sniper. A breathless sound escaped from his lips as Willis took in the sight of this one-and-a-half-meter long-range death delivery machine. He grabs ahold of the M107 with both arms, blinks, and the sniper rifle disappeared, stored in his inventory, along with a loaded Desert Eagle, his laptop, 2 bedrolls, and night-vision goggles.

Reaching further into the crate, he takes out 4 thick clips of the M107 magazine each with a holding capacity of 22 rounds, scooped up some ammo from the bundle, and began reloading the mags. Repeating this process 3 more times, the mags also disappear into thin air(they are in Willis's inventory).

Willis makes his way to the bathroom, the room shrouded in darkness, and takes a pre-packed plastic bag filled with what he needed for this raid: Donepezil, Memantine, Modafinil, Caffeine and Amphetamine syringes and little pills swooshing in the bag. Again, the bag dematerializes from his hands.

Returning everything back to its original place.

Willis left the apartment.

[Observation Post 13]

Travel consists of a quick midnight Ford hotwire down the 110 highway to HARBOR CITY. After parking the stolen vehicle Willis grabs a bicycle from a roadside diner and tears down the road leading to the residential zone intersecting the factory, navigating the neighborhood with his internal status window. The street houses a wide row of duplexes, all weather-worn red brick.

4 blocks from the factory, Willis rounds a corner and is greeted by an unfinished 6 stories office building that takes up most of the real estate across the street. Sticking out like a sore thumb, Willis estimate that it stands at about half-mile in range of the factory. The door to the building is long gone; a hollow hole of its former self.

Willis Quickly stepped into the office building and ascended the dust and dirt-covered narrow staircase to the rooftop. Up here, the sounds of the city seem so distant and Willis feels refreshed by the cool air blowing against his face. Right now, Willis can make out the factory's outline from moonlight alone. He sets up his laptop attaching it to the local 5G network, and his custom program confirms that some computers are using an encrypted network, the IP address pointing to the factory. Knowing this, Willis sent a trojan package to the computers disguised as work emails. Once someone opens the email attachment, the virus can open a backdoor to the factory's electronic systems taking control. Willis then drops off the M107 and ammo, now propped on the concrete rails with its slender barrel pointed directly at the factory.

Quickly unrolling a bedroll on the rooftop, Willis then descends the staircase back onto his newly acquired bicycle and grinds further towards the factory. Stopping just barely at the border of the residential-industrial border, Willis toss another unpacked bedroll on the street. Closing his eyes, he accesses his status window, opens up his mental map, and fast travels back to the bedroll on the roof of the 6-story office building where he kept his equipment. Willis drops down on his stomach and leans against the large barrel of the M107, peeking through the scope, hands hovering on the trigger.

Through the scope, Willis first zooms in on the factory rooftop and finds a gleaming gun barrel poking out of the dome, its operator probably scanning the surroundings for signs of trouble. An M60 carrying sentry is patrolling on the catwalks on the street level and various goons are stationed around the factory. The sniper needs to die first so Willis can safely dispatch other high-value targets uninterrupted. Then the sentry. Then everyone else. Swallowing some Adderall and Donepezil, the world suddenly became quieter and more vibrant for Willis.

The computer screen flashes green, confirming that the trojan has infiltrated the factory's network, granting Willis control.

Now, Willis is decently calmed as he has been observing the occupants of the factory for around 2 minutes, his vision adjusted to the distance between the bullet and the target. Within the blue sniper scope, a "T" shaped crosshair is locked on where the sniper is approximately at. Breathing in and out.

*CRACK!*

Willis squeezes the trigger. The sniper rifle jolts. A yellow shell jumps out of the sniper bolt. 1.5 seconds later, the front ceiling explodes showering the sniper behind in fragmented aluminum, the bullet not stopping as it crushes the m40 sniper rifle and penetrates the right shoulder of the sniper blowing its right arm off in a bloody arc. The bullet continues to scrape along the roof even as the sniper seizes up, blood puddling under its torso.

*CRACK!*

There was a lull in the activities around the factory, as a second bullet rips through the night sky squeezing into the Sentry's front visor. Dark cobwebbed cracks form on the bulletproof faceshield as the monster's head snaps backward. Its body seizes up and falls over, disturbing the dust around it.

...

[Observation Post 13]

*CRACK!*

A resounding blast from the M107, the recoil choked by the muzzle brake. The head of the target explodes like a watermelon, its knees buckling and falling on top of the dead sentry - the goon was probably trying for the M40. The remaining goons scatter into the factory, taking cover behind brick walls.

The *ping* of the computer notify Willis that it has detected 2 alarm signals coming from the factory, the first requesting reinforcements from nearby KOH patrols and the second trying to reach a private number. Both signals are intercepted; no help is coming for the pinned criminals. Once everyone is inside the building, Willis overrides the front entrance and side garage door, locking them in. Then, Willis slows down his pulse and gets ready to fire again.

*CRACK!* *CRACK!* *CRACK!*

Using his knowledge of the layout of the factory, Willis lays down heavy fire through the front and the right side of the brick building, hitting key chokepoints, vantage spots, and junctions inside the factory with AP rounds, the bullets eating away at the factory meeting little resistance. Rounds would shrink into the factory from one side, bounce around the interior, and sometimes pop out the other side.

*CRACK!* *CRACK!* *CRACK!*

...Eventually running out of spots to hit, Willis instead sends focused bursts which rip basketball-sized holes traveling up and down the exterior walls until they resemble the cratered surface of the moon. Here, our sniper shows off his artistic side by punching a heart-shaped outline on the front of the factory using 12.7 mm AP rounds. It's pretty ugly.

*CRACK!* *CRACK!* *CRACK!*

A stray bullet must have hit something vital causing an explosion; a dry detonation on the upper floor of the factory collapses a portion of the roof, shattered aluminum crashing down onto the interior of the factory.

*CRACK!* *CRACK!* *CRACK!*

The front entrance blows open, the metal door flying off its hinges into the dark hallway. The front and right sides of the building are almost see-through now, moonlight practically penetrating into the gaping holes, revealing ruined machinery and furniture.

*CRACK!* *CRACK!* *CRACK!*...

The systematic wrecking of the factory demolishes part of its structural integrity, hopefully getting rid of traps and ambush opportunities, demoralizes and disorganizes the enemy, buying time for Willis to get some room-breaching experience.

...

The muzzle brake hiss, red hot from spewing fire. Willis lets the timer tick down from 5 minutes, and the factory, an unrecognizable half-collapsed ruin that it is, remains deathly silent. The front section of the factory slopes down as a pile of bricks, blocking the entrance, a large opening on the roof, and loose bricks slide down from hole-riddled sides. Satisfied, Willis looks down to the side of the M107 sniper, and counts the ammo shells, all 66 of them, nods to himself, then gets ready for the breach. Storing the M107 back into his inventory, Willis takes out his Desert Eagle and secures the night vision goggles over his forehead. Taking some amphetamine, he then closes his eyes, brings out his mental map, and fast travel to the residential-industrial intersection, appearing on the bedroll he previously deposited on the side of the street. There, under the cover of night, he circles towards the left side of the factory building, the side he didn't target, crawls over to the entrance, and loots the M60 from the dead sentry, stripping off then equipping its armor. Even if the visor is cracked, the juggernaut suit can absorb a lot of punishment. Then, Willis crawls to the back of the building, stopping just at the base, and squeezes into one of the enlarged holes.

[Flarbinia]

"It appears like the vigilante that got whacked at that store inspired a group of copycats! Double pay for anyone who brings one of the fuckers to me alive so that I can make an example of them! Remember, the armament you're guarding cost Giovanni a king's ransom in greased palms to acquire from Hephaestus Arms, so protect whatever shipments haven't been blown to smithereens with your lives if you don't want to be found in the dumpster with the Jack Of Hearts tattooed to your forehead!" Marco Fisco, the CEO of Cassius International (a shell company that serves as the middleman for criminals looking for a front) and the legal owner of the abandoned factory, said to the remaining thugs over the intercom as he watched the carnage unfolding on camera. When Marco had bought the factory on Giovanni's behalf, he expected it to be just another routine purchase: find a realtor willing to sell the old place for cheap, pay up front for the property, sign the necessary forms to become its legal owner, reap the rewards once the laundered money starts rolling in. Instead, he had to sit in a dusty old office and keep the aging assembly line running to maintain the appearance that the factory was back in business, bribe numerous inspectors to look the other way when it came to how decrepit his latest acquisition had become in the years following its doors shutting down, and watch the surrounding area with a security system via an overclocked antique. He glanced at the safe for a moment before he stared back at the screen and opened the drawer in his desk, picking up a Beretta Laramie. If he survived the assault and the vigilantes got their hands on the documents in the safe, there would be nowhere to run if Giovanni decided to spare his life, as the blackmail was the only thing preventing Chekov "Bull Shark" Bulgarin (owner of Club Chekov's Caviar and alleged Blood Diamond smuggler), One-Eyed "Hawk" Lao (owner of the Blue Dragon Bar and the illegal gambling den hosted on its second floor), and Tomás "Jaguar" Céspedes (owner of Xibalba Refrigeration and Capo for the Mano de la Muerte Cartel) from having him whacked.

[Flarbinia]

"What do you want? If it's money you want, Giovanni's cut is in the safe. You can take that and be on your way. Guns? Body armor? I'm sure he won't notice a crate or two of either going missing, mostly because dead men tell no tales." Marco Fisco said over the intercom in a terrified tone as he watched more and more of his men fall to the ground, blood flowing from fresh bullet holes. Marco had realized that if heavily armed thugs covered from head to toe with body armor couldn't defeat whoever was attacking them, then what hope did he have at defeating them with his revolver? He was a businessman in the employ of the Mafia, for god's sakes. His silver tongue was his most important asset. One he hoped would get them to hesitate long enough to grab the documents and get out. So long as he had the blackmail, Marco Frisco could defect to the Russians or the Chinese or the Cartel if things went from bad to worse for Giovanni, as the Knave Of Hearts would see him as a loose end and have him whacked to ensure that he couldn't potentially snitch.

[Observation Post 13]

Willis squeezed through a hole on the first floor, at the back of the brick building.

Just inside the factory is utter darkness, and no sound can be heard emanating from beyond the walls. Willis readied his M60 for any danger and began walking deeper into the factory. Moonlight illuminates a short portion of an inner hallway, jagged bullet holes piercing the pathway. White pasty wallpapers, now dusty and peeling off, extend beyond the darkness. A small, square metal trashcan lies on the floor, tipped over with trash spilled out.

The sound of Willis’s footsteps thumps through the hallway, ringing off the walls and causing him to tense up with every movement from the worry of alerting others to his presence. Willis knows that blind sniper fire couldn’t have cleared an entire enemy hideout, so he is superstitiously expecting survivors to pop up at any moment.

Far ahead, the hallway ends in a door on the western wall and another door splits the hallway going south. On his right, red light floods from under the door, as does the low humming static sound of a fan or generator. So Willis reaches for the handle.

The door swing open revealing a closet-sized room with circular stairs leading down, a broken light panel overhead, and a corpse laying on the tiled floor with arms outstretched in an X-shape.

Willis hesitates, then heads back to the other room in the hallway first. On top of the entrance is a placard that reads "IT".

This room is shrouded in darkness and appears as a standard office with a row of desktop computers mounted along a long table caked with dried blood. 3 corpses with headphones still plugged into their ears lay sprawled on the floor, their bodies showing multiple holes. There are no windows and only bullet holes decorate the walls of this room, with an intercom on the top of the room buzzing slightly from a stuck bullet.

Paperwork, pen holders, and other materials are arranged neatly on the desks. A single computer is on, displaying a dull, black screen with a simple line of text:

READY. <<

Stepping over the bodies, Willis walked over to the display. Pressing a key, the line clears, replaced by the following:

INTRUDER ALERT: 'HQ' NOTIFIED. SECURITY DISPATCH FORTHCOMING. DO NOT SHUT DOWN.
WARNING: MALWARE DETECTED.
***
Accounting*: Password required.
Security***: Password required.
Power*: Error. Backup generator activated.
Map: Available.

Willis clicked on the Map icon. It bounced once, and after several moments, opens up a new window with a bird-eye view of the factory spliced into 4 layers: the upper ceiling, the 2nd-floor, the ground floor, and the basement. Quickly skimming over the layout, Willis noticed a few details which seems out of place - new rooms on the new digital map, non-existent on the old blueprints of the factory. Willis mentally reminded himself to check them out later...

PS: This scene takes place before Marco Fisco tried to reach Willis through the intercom. Thank you.
Exploration --> Combat --> Intercom event.