Superhero Manager System

Burning

The goons went down, it didn’t matter if they had superpowers. In the end, no one wanted to get shot. They took cover and began to open fire in the direction Arome was hiding. The young man scowled, it was hard to keep calm in a situation such as this, but there really wasn’t much Arome could do other than act. Not to mention he was still bleeding out, and he could feel the darkness starting to creep into the edge of his vision again. The only thing that was really keeping him going was the adrenaline, but even that would also end.

They had him pinned down, they had noticed that he was taking out the lights, so they had concentrated fire on his side and into the dark office, hoping that perhaps a stray bullet would catch Arome off guard and put an end to his assault.

But for Arome, that was an expected reaction as he crawled his way past cubicles, moving until he was right at the edge of the dark area. There was still a little bit of light left. No attention was being paid in this direction, so he took a look at the gun in his hand.

Again he scowled, standard issue compression gun. No wonder the damn thing was so light in his hands. Of course, this particular gun seemed to have undergone augmentation of some sort. There were magic sigils on it, with flowing runic script. It was easy enough for Arome to tell, whoever gets killed with this gun, receives a one-way ticket to the gates of hell and entire damnation.

Now the con behind this weapon, is the fact that it lacks proper accuracy. And with it absent, the gun doesn’t pack much of a punch. It fires by pushing air through multiple rings. Each ring propels the air it receives from the previous. Building up its power to create a beam of highly compressed and penetrative air. The gun was standard issue and was also a commercial weapon. Bullets were expensive to make these days, and the resources required to do so were better spent elsewhere. Hence, the need for guns that fire compressed air. Less weight, less damage, greater speed. And a wound that’s lethal if it hits. Bullets can plug wounds to stop bleeding. All this does is leave a hole in your body.

Arome, laid down flat, the gun had a holographic sight, that thankfully, much to his great luck, offered thermal imaging. Something that surprised him, as the goons had not used it yet in order to find him. He got his first target in his sight, the gun’s holographic scope lining up with his right eye as he took a deep breath and let the gun charge up a more powerful shot. He could feel each compression ring subtly vibrate. On the side of the gun you can see a tiny display, showing five red dots. When each dot turned green, all the air would have been compressed and the gun would be ready to fire.

He would be shooting at least through six cubicles to get to his enemy. He needed to make sure he could build enough power. This meant that it would also have a much stronger recoil, but this was necessary. Five seconds later it was enough, then Arome squeezed the trigger… The gun bucked in his hands. If not for experience, the power behind this shot would have been enough to dislocate his shoulder. A five-compression ring weapon was no joke. Usually, what should be available to the masses are three rings and below. Anything above that would be either very expensive or exclusive to the military or the private forces of some corporations. He let off a single shot, sacrificing power for the burst mode he had used before.

Blood splattered against the office's glass windows. The trapped workers screamed, a significant portion of them were caught off guard by the sudden death of the goon. One moment, he was standing in front of the workers. The next, his head was missing and blood was spraying out of his body like a fountain.

Arome smiled, for a moment he was taken back to a time when he was desperately searching for something to be good at. His country’s air force was not like other kingdoms or nations. All airmen were bound to a single jet, called the Sun-Bolt. It was a little bit smaller than your standard F-22, but fast enough to reach speeds of mach-6 and was almost completely solar-powered.

A pilot is trained to handle missions on his own, or at least for Arome, that has always been the case. Most of his missions had been tests, punishments and teachings from his hard as nails grandfather. The king didn’t care too much for Arome after he failed to be born with the Lion Star ability, but Arome was still of his bloodline and the first son of his generation. It was a must that he had to be powerful, not just to be able to defend himself, but so as not to be complete shame to his family. If he can not become a competent leader, then he should be a competent killer.

Probably the best decision the king would ever make as he would send his own 17-year-old grandson, just out of the academy where he had been specially trained for three years. Adding to the teachings he had received from childbirth, his grandfather and his court of Land chiefs ended up creating one of the most prolific assassins of the modern era. But against supers, there was only so much you could do without preparations or an understanding of the enemy you were facing.

So, while it was a little surprising to see someone and a hound walk out of the darkness behind him, he knew for this round he had already been outmaneuvered. He turned to look at the woman, who had some sort of shadow or stealth-based skill. She raised the gun in her hands, a lot more professional than the other goons, and placed her foot on his back.

“Die!”

Two bullets to the back of the skull, it was quick and dare Arome say it, quite merciful compared to everything else he had gone through. Arome was not aware, but the woman scoffed. His attempt to fight back was commendable, but he had no ability to fall back on. She recognized him after all.

Before coming here, they did as much research as they could possibly do about the landscape of the building. Who was in charge, who the interviewers were and what sort of people had come here looking for a job. They already had Arome’s file on hand as a person of interest, but not someone of import that they had to worry about. The boy was useless after all.

“That’s enough! He’s dead!” she called out as she moved out of the dark area into the area that had a little bit more light. The three remaining goons, including the guy with the icy blue hair, cautiously stepped into the office in the direction of the shadow and stealth-powered woman.

“Are you sure? We already killed him before, he came back!” one of the goons said to her.

“W-what? That’s-“

She tried to turn, but it was already too late. This was more like a scene from a horror movie come to life. Arome came out of the dark, bloodied and dull eyed as he wrapped a hand around the throat of the woman and pulled her back into the dark. She screamed, but the rifle in Arome’s hand was already firing away at her kidneys from the moment he grabbed her.

As he pulled her back, her allies opened fire into the dark. Arome used her as a shield as the last hound that had been hidden with her rushed at him. Still reeling from his previous experiences with the hounds, Arome took one well-placed aim, and fired off. The compressed bullet blasted into the creature's eye, eliciting a pained cry from it, as it crashed to the ground, it’s inertia taking it into the darkness, as it crashed to the ground, skidding to a stop besides Arome and the now very dead Shadow powered woman.

He stepped back further, letting the dark swallow him as the goons followed. They find the dying hound, and it’s dead master quickly enough, the scene so jarring that one of the goons feels back on his ass, scrambling backwards in shock.

“He killed her! He killed Shadow-Sage!”

“Oh, come of it! That guy just got lucky and used her as a shield. But in light of that, all bets are off. Communication is down across the tower, so you have to get to the first floor and tell Blight-Father what is happening here, this guy’s is a thre-“

*Bang!*

The person speaking had his brains blown out, his blood and brain matter splattering onto the body of the blue-haired goon and the final one. They both looked at each other as if some sort of agreement passed between both of them. The other goons turned around and ran out of the office as the blue-haired guy started to grow.

“I didn’t want to do that!”

*Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!*

Arome did not care much for a monologue, he felt that was a very bad habit the supers and villains had. What’s the use of talking, get right to killing each other! flowery words or the reason why you want to destroy the world won’t change anything. But the problem with Arome’s current situation had to do with the fact that every shot he took was dissipated by a billowing wall of icy blue flames.

It was weirdly cold and hot at the same time, but there was no control. In fact, it looked like the guy with the icy blue hair was trying his hardest to hold back the power of his ability, and then he just stopped. So, in the end, the guy was not a lightning super, but a fire one. That did not make it any better, but at least he had not died to fire before, so he would not be just as wary.

The flames billowed out, burning so hot it was almost white. It swallowed everything, rushing across the darkened office space and bringing light to it, like the onset of a cinematic scene of destruction. Arome had no other place to run to as he stood there, accepting his fate as the flames swallowed him.

There was no time to even scream, he felt the flame flash fry him, all the way down to his internal organs. His blood turned to vapor in his own body, then dust, and then Darkness, the very moment he lost his eyes. The flames came in waves, three extremely powerful waves, as Arome finally crashed to the ground. Both he, the office, and the worker who had been outside and out of the way had been turned into blackened husks. Everyone was dead, the last goon had successfully made it to the stairs and ran off the floor.

Arome’s charred and blackened body crashed to the ground. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air, flesh caught different parts of the office as a powerful conflagration started. The goon with the icy blue hair ran out, he did not want to be here and find out if Arome could survive that, because he knew he would not be able to use his power at that level again, any time soon. “This guy… is he a Demon?” The blue-haired super asked himself, as he ran out of the still burning office.

The building’s fire system became activated as the sprinklers came alive. The intensity of the water was powerful enough that a lot of the burns and grime were actually being washed away. It created a literal flood in the office that left most everything afloat, including Arome.

“Get up kid, we still have work to do.”

There was a crack, the charred skin of Arome began to break apart as he tried to get up. His old burnt skin peeled off and fell away, showing smooth unblemished chocolate ebony skin underneath, as he folded his naked body into itself. Arome sat with his knees pulled closely to himself as he stared forwards, eyes blank and totally devoid of vibrancy, the intercom buzzed, and the voice he just heard spoke again.

“Your highness, I can’t begin to imagine what it’s like for you. But you can’t stay there. Those two who escaped would probably go warn others about you and your power. They will all be looking for you now. You have to move.”

Arome looked in a particular direction where he noticed a camera, completely untouched by the destruction looming around him. He shook his head, not caring at all for his modesty as he said.

“I’m not in the mood, old woman, I’m a prince of one of the most powerful kingdoms in earth’s history.” Arome gritted his teeth in annoyance. “I’ve learned more about manipulation than you have been using your entire life. You might have more experience, but I have a nose for knowing when people tell their lies and plots.” His annoyed voice echoed across the destroyed office. “So don’t plot around or with me. Now, how do I get the hell out of here?”

For a moment, everything was silent, but then again it was not as if he was lying. He had already met this woman, spoke to her, he was able to draw a conclusion about the sort of person she was, from their limited interaction. Being born into a political position means he was taught how to judge a person’s character quickly and as accurately as he could.

“You can’t use the stairs, but the elevator is always an option. Use the shafts and the air vents.” Arome nodded to her as he extracted himself from his burnt shell.  'You need to be careful. The elevator system in this building is not like others, the floor you’re on is just one half.” Darius raised an eyebrow at that. “The elevator moves sideways as well as up and down. So, for example, you’re on the 367th floor, you can’t access the sixty-eight without moving to the other side and using that elevator to go down.” To Arome, this seems overly complicated. But this was a company that dealt with superheroes on a regular basis. It was their job to offer defense against the elements of the super population that would rather use their power for evil.

“You’d probably meet some resistance, but that should not be a problem for you. Also, the three hundred and thirty-fifth floor is a workshop. It’s where the suits for our hero and influential clients are made. There are quite a few prototypes lying about, and more than a few of them, up to your style. Get some clothes…you’re going to need them.” And then the intercom cut off.

Arome looked at the ceiling, almost as if he expected the answers to come down from the blackened vista in front of him. It seemed his nightmare was not yet over, and for the first time he felt inclined to pray even more than he usually does.

“Spirits of my ancestors…help me.”