Silas just got back from gym. He'd been lifting weights all day, he needed to take his mind off of what has happened during the unexpected attack in Manhattan. The death of his former comrade, Elara Clark, left a giant hole in his heart. Not only did he fought alongside her for ten years in the field, he was also one of the few people back at camp years ago that trained with her in the dark forest. He was the one who taught her the basics of self-defense, and in return she helped him pass his exams. Those were good times. He smiled to himself as he climbed the stairs towards his apartment floor. He stopped in front of his apartment door, and started looking for his keys. He found them and started unlocking the door, but just as he inserted the key, the door opened ajar. Silas looked around, nobody was there. He went in, pistol in his hand. He felt a slight breeze against his shoulder, he whirled at the same time a masked figure leaped at him. The masked man swung his sword aimed at Silas's enormous chest, but Silas deflected the sword using the pistol as a melee weapon. The gun now useless, Silas dropped it. Silas lunged, and the masked man swayed back.
Silas locked his gaze with the masked man. He was a Nightshade agent, no doubt, Johnny was right.
"So they sent you to kill me?" Silas asked.
The masked man nodded.
"Well," Silas smirked. "They're going to be disappointed."
The masked man lunged, Silas stepped to the side and swung a fist that slammed into the masked man's chest. He hit the coffee table hard. Silas went to kick him but he rolled, the coffee table burst into splinters. Silas was sure that he broke a few ribs, but the masked man didn't look like his punch hurt him at all. The masked man attacked again, starting with a low kick then snapping it up high. Silas didn't fall for the ruse and slapped the high kick away, he spun with a kick of his own that caught the man in the gut. Silas's fists blurred but the masked man absorbed the blows and his hand shot out, catching Silas in the side of the neck. He grunted in dissatisfaction as he was flipped over and landed on the floor. The masked man went in for the kill, his sword flashing in the city's lights as it plunged into the floor, inches away from Silas's head. Silas head-butted the man, and he staggered back.
Silas took the sword and broke it in two. The masked man, momentarily stunned, stumbled back, his hands flying to the broken weapon.
"I'm sorry," Silas said with a mocking tone. "Did I break your little toy?"
That seemed to do the trick, the masked man came running at him, but instead of swinging punches or kicks like Silas expected. He crashed into him, sending them both tumbling toward the window. The glass shattered with a deafening roar, the city lights flashing before their eyes as they plunged towards the street below, Silas grabbed the man by the collar, his fist connecting with the masked man's jaw with a sickening crunch, then he wrapped his arms around the man's waist and flipped in midair. They crashed onto a passing car with a sickening crunch, the metal groaning under their weight. Silas, his body aching, his vision blurring, found himself on top of the masked man, his weight pinning him to the hood of the car.
Groaning, he rolled over the hood of the car and landed on his feet, his body a symphony of pain. Ignoring the stunned stares of the pedestrians who had witnessed the spectacle, he stood in the middle of the road, his back straight, his gaze fixed on the crumpled figure on the hood. Silas waited. He'd fought countless battles, faced down countless adversaries…but this one's different. Something about his fighting style seemed familiar. Seconds stretched into eternity. Then with a groan, the masked man slowly pushed himself up, his hand reaching for his belt. He pulled out an electronic device, a remote control, and his gloved fingers pressed down on the red button. A split second later, the apartment building across the street erupted in a blinding flash of light and a deafening boom. The roar of the explosion echoed through the streets, sending shockwaves that rippled through the air. The building shuddered, a wave of fire engulfing the windows, casting an orange glow across the city.
Silas watched in horror as his apartment, his sanctuary was consumed by flames. The air filled with the smell of burning wood and plastic and the screams and shouts of people on the streets. He felt a cold dread crawl up his spine, a realization that this wasn't just an assassination. It was more than that. It was personal. This was war. And he would not back down.
He turned to face the masked man, his eyes blazing with fury that was terrifying as it was consuming.
"I knew I shouldn't have held my punches." He said through gritted teeth.
The masked man smiled. "You know what they say…an eye for an eye." His voice a low growl, which carried a sense of satisfaction.
Silas didn't have the patience to think this through, all that matters now is beating that man into a pulp, and then he'll ask questions later. His muscles began to bulge; he was getting serious this time. The masked man smiled as he landed his feet. Silas was about to show him the might of a Brute. The masked man picked the wrong target.
FRANCO was a business man who traveled all the way from Germany to America, where he decided to stay in New York. He never liked to think about it much, so he never did. Single at the age of forty-six. Never touched a woman in his life…a type of man who revolves around his work. He was outside, admiring the new Rolls Royce he just bought. And out of nowhere, a man crashed into the ground beside him, forming a crater.
The masked man, dazed, looked around at the awe struck faces of the civilians. Seconds later a shadow appeared behind him at the same time he heard a thump, before he could react, Silas grabbed his jacket from behind, lifted him off his feet and slammed him through the bonnet of the car. His face crunched into the engine block, and hauled him out before the man even knew what was happening, and hurtled him to a wall across the street. Silas then turned his gaze to Franco, who stood there, eyes fixed on his ruined Rolls Royce. Silas softened a bit, but immediately turned his attention towards the man in the mask and went to him without saying a word to the business man.
"So," he started, walking towards the masked man. "Your suit is impressive."
The masked man sat on the ground, quiet, unmoving.
"It absorbs most of the blows I inflict," he continued. "Not to mention you're an adapter. A skilled one I'll give you that."
The masked man slowly rose from the ground. "Ring any bells?"
"Nope. Why won't you take off that mask."
The man chuckled. "No."
"Very well then," his fist connected to the masked man's skull, the man bounced from the wall. "Then I'll take your head off!"
He grabbed the man by the head and pulled him down to meet his knee, the impact sending the masked man flying into the air. Silas leaped from the ground, closing in the distance with an alarming speed. With all his might he threw the masked man straight into the building in front of them, the masked man crashed through the window and landed on an office desk, the woman who was present at the time shrieked and ran away. With a groan, he rolled of the table and landed on the floor on his chest. He had fractures everywhere, mostly his ribs, even the knuckles on his left hand have been fractured. "Damn brute." He thought to himself. "Damn him and his strength." He forced himself to stand, and limped towards the window he crashed through. Silas stood there, his hands up, surrounded by police men. They had their guns pointed at him.
"Don't move!" he heard the police man say.
Silas, the hulking brute, stood there. He didn't move, he stayed there quiet. One of the police men approached him warily, holding the shackles in his shaking hands, a gun in the other. Silas waited till the policeman was within reach, his hands blurred and the next thing the policeman knew…he was being held as a hostage.
"Nobody move," his voice bellowed. "I don't want to cause any trouble here."
The other policeman snorted. "Really? Last time I checked…you threw a man into a building!"
"This is none of your business."
"None of your business?" the policeman echoed. "We're the NYPD, this city is our business!"
Before the policeman said further, Silas threw the police man at his comrades and shot their vehicles with a gun he took from the policeman he just threw. Using that as his cover, he quickly disappeared from sight. The masked man chuckled to himself and stepped back into the office, disappearing from view.
It was half past twelve in long beach, New York. The afternoon sun spilling through the windows of Margarita's café, dappling the worn wooden tables with warmth. The lunchtime rush has subsided, leaving a relaxed buzz in the air. A family lingered over churros, their happy chatter punctuated by clinking spoons. At the bar, business men sipped margaritas, laptop open, stealing glances at the women on the beach through the window. Lily Collins sat in the corner, her eyes fixed on reports while she sipped her margarita. Seems like Amelia Clark and Johnny Walsh have successfully taken down on of Nightshade's outside bases. She heard a light thud on a chair in front of her, it was Silas, bruised and annoyed.
"Took you long enough," she said.
"What can you say, I went through the trouble of looking for places I can sleep," he said as he adjusted his seat.
"Saw the news?" she took a sip from her margarita. "This one's going to be tough to hide, alongside the female-hybrid case."
"Looks like you and the higher-ups got your hands full, what do you got?"
She pulled out her laptop and started tapping the keys. "The assassin that was sent after you is a Nightshade agent…mid-thirties…adapter."
Silas looked around while she continued tapping. Then after a few more clicks.
"There," she said. She turned the laptop screen for Silas to see.
Silas squinted at the laptop screen, the afternoon light glinting off the image. It was a news article, published by the secret sorcerer's society, but his attention snagged on the man's face in the photo caption- Kai Tanaka. A jolt shot through him, prickly and sharp. Ten years. Ten sun-drenched years had passed since that Hawaiian nightmare, the massacre orchestrated by Nightshade. Ten years since he'd last seen Kai, shoving him into a vast of hissing acid with a snarl. The memory tasted like ash in his mouth.
"An eye for an eye." Kai's voice echoed in his head. He suddenly remembered something, they were on a mission to track down and subdue the Nightshade agents. He remembers seeing Kai in a house, he didn't care it was his house, and he didn't know that Kai had a wife and a daughter living with him at the time he blew his house with a rocket launcher. He regretted it dearly. Lily having seen the way Silas stared at the screen, reminded her that it was him who had supposedly killed Kai.
"So what now?" she asked him.
"What were Nightshade's motive when they tried to assassinate me? My body?"
Lily relayed the information she received from Amelia, it took about ten minutes to explain.
"I see," he said. "So they are after my body."
"Indeed." She nodded.
"And Nightshade knew, they knew that Kai would happily take the job."
"It seems like it."
"Thank you Lily," he said as he stood. "I owe you one."
"Nah," she said rising up from her seat. "You owe me two."
After that, they parted ways. Silas was now determined to settle this once and for all. Kai will come for him, he was sure. By then he'd be ready. He felt ashamed for what he'd done to him, taking his life was one thing…he had it coming. But killing innocent people like his wife and child was unforgivable, but what's done is done. All that matters now are the tasks at hand. Look out for yourself. And kill Kai. That's all that mattered to him.