Chapter 114: {Culling The Weak}

Wait, stop!" said Mothman. "Fucking yellow bellied cowards. Net connection's up now - we'll get Rocket Man to broadcast that all of you are leaving. You think the people and police still here will take kindly to that? They'll tear you to pieces before the variants get to you!"

Racefiend paused before he spoke up. "Any flyers here, if you want a fat bonus to your cred account, then come with me. If you got family here or want to just die, then that's cool, that's all on you.

But all of you that don't to suicide yourselves down there, I'm up to pay you out."

Rocket Man, a short, balding man with square glasses that looked like he belonged at a basic office desk, and indeed, he was seated at the front by the controls, turned in his swiveling chair and pointed a stubby, accusing finger towards the leavers.

"I have this recorded! You'll never be able to work as a hero again with what you've said here!" said Rocket Man. "And neither will anyone that flies you out!"

Racefiend shrugged. "Yeah, dunno, man. This sh*t ain't it for me if I have to throw away my life like that. Liked the fame and the perks, but this, nah, it's not worth. Plus the merc market's pretty big, don't think I'll be lacking for job opportunities down the road.

Flyers too, they're always in demand. No reason to die here. It's just business."

"Let them go," said Seismic. "We don't need people that have no will to fight here. It'll just drag us down."

"Glad we have an understanding," said Racefiend with a smug smile behind his yellow thunderbolt themed visor. He turned back to the door only to find that his way was blocked by a girl.

A masked girl that reached up to around his shoulders. Not tall. A little on the shorter side. But her gear made it very apparent that she was a pretty big deal. Her mask acted as a hi-tech helm, sleek in its design with some ornamental curved edges around the forehead and a glowing v-shaped line that encompassed her eyes.

She wore a white biker jacket stained in mud and blood, form fitting black leggings made of arachno hex-weave, and low-heeled greaves that glowed with pockets of yellow energy. Around her waist were two utility belts with various pockets likely holding a wide range of gadgets and attached to that was a sheath of segmented white metal for a katana.

"Huh? You want to join us?" said Racefiend. "Can you fly?"

"All of you are fine not being heroes?" said the woman. Her voice filtered out through a modulator that distorted it slightly.

"Like I said, merc market's thriving these days. And with the AA sh*tting the bed like this, it'll only get better," said Racefiend. "So nah, I'm not a hero anymore."

"Good. I don't like killing heroes." The woman unsheathed her blade, and it unclicked with a crackle and flash of golden energy. In the next instant, her blade of crystalline gold swung out in a clean arc that traveled from Racefiend's waist through his shoulder.

"Wh-," Racefiend managed out one last utterance before his body split at the cut, his two chunks falling onto the clean floor in a pile of blood and bared organs.

The flyers and heroes that tagged along with Racefiend shrieked in fear and stumbled backwards. The heroes went up in immediate alarm, pointing their weapons and powers at the woman.

"Go ahead," said the woman. Her body started to shimmer, as if wrapped up in heat waves made of faint, transparent gold. "But you'll never get through my barriers. And you'll only be tiring yourselves out when the real enemy is there." She pointed her blade towards the monitor that still projected the armies of fishmen surrounding the walls.

"Who are you?" Seismic's deep voice echoed out.

"I have no Sign," said the woman. "But you can consider me a vigilante. I will be on your side against the variants."

"On our side!? You just killed one of us!" shouted a hero.

"One of you? He admitted himself he wasn't a hero. At this point, he was just an unnecessary variable. And to solve an equation this complex, it's always best to cull the variables that get in your way," said the woman flatly. "For all of you heroes that run, I will remember you. And believe me, I never forget.

I will track you down and I will find you.

No matter where you go, where you hide, I will kill you, because there are no rules or laws that hold me back.

And because out of all the filth I see in this world, the type I despise the most are those that leave others behind."

"Vigilante freak! We'll arrest you right here and now!" said another hero.

"Stop," said Seismic. "We have no energy to be fighting like this. Get out of my sight, vig, unless you want to fight me."

The woman paused for a moment, staring at Seismic's towering figure, and saw no real hostility in his dark brown eyes. She nodded at him.

"I'll be out of sight, then," said the woman as she turned and stepped to the exit door. It opened up when it registered her presence, indicating that she had a fake CID on her that allowed her to masquerade as a hero or had stolen one from a hero, as only heroes could move through city walls. "Until I see you outside the gates, yeah?"

Seismic did not respond, but his silence was an answer in of itself. He could not admit outright he wanted to enlist the aid of a vigilante that had murdered a registered hero right in front of his eyes. He could have cared less about Racefiend dying, and honestly, he would have more than wanted a capable fighter like the vigilante to fight with him.

But the optics were too bad to voice his thoughts out loud. So an accepting silence was all he offered.

"Understood," said the woman as she left, the doors closing behind her.

This left the crowd of heroes in dumfounded silence, staring at Racefiend's body.

"Stop staring at a dead man. It won't bring him back to life," said Seismic as he locked in the massive, plated bracers around his forearms. "Rocket Man, inform the police forces that any of them that want to fight should join me, but make sure they have access to at the minimum a Frame or heavy vehicle.

Keep at least half in the city to defend the civilians."

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