August 16th, 12:01 AM
Walker's Apartment Balcony, Manhattan, New York City
Walker's mood was grim as he landed on his Balcony, pulling off his jacket. He paused as he reached the sliding door. Something was wrong. Katherine always left this door open. A frown began to form on his face as a metallic smell made it's way into his nose, one he was greatly familiar with. Blood. "No..." he muttered, horrified as he nearly flung the door aside. Blood was everywhere. A ridiculous amount. Too much for a single person, at least. At first, he didn't notice, as he frantically looked around for his girlfriend. After a few seconds, walking into the room and looking more, he realised that she wasn't there, and noticed the amount of blood. He stayed silent, looking around the room through the slight golden tint of his mask. "You know, Captain, you're not that hard to follow. Your friend is very attractive." The voice was mocking, easily identifiable as the villain calling himself 'Shatter' from earlier. "I decided to come back and kill you know. I'm a bit crazy like that!" Shatter laughed, a boyish laughter of near-joy. "What did you do with Katherine?" Walker yelled, stepping forward, before a knife appeared in Shatter's hand. "I took her. Cut her up a bit beforehand though." He stepped slowly towards the side, strafing in a circle. Walker's ear twitched, and he winced involuntarily, almost as if someone was yelling at him. Shatter smirked slightly. "So, Captain, you gunna let me hit you with my best shot? Just to see if you can so nonchalantly shrug it off, as you did the rest?" At this point he stopped, flinging the knife at Walker. Walker slapped it out of the air with the back of his hand, his reinforced gloves barely getting cut. Slowly, he began to advance. Shatter merely backed off at the same rate. The bad thing about a small apartment, he had no room to properly control his movement. Sometimes he could barely keep up with himself, and in his own apartment he'd just be pinballing off the walls attempting to hit something aside from his own possessions. Shatter played it like a game, too. Something was off. No new Villain was ever this bold. Even the insane ones take some measures... So, why? He lunged forward, catching a dagger to the shoulder for his troubles. The same pain as earlier in that street racked through him, as his entire body shuddered as his skeletal system fractured and reset itself. He rolled to the side, just in time to avoid another knife, which shattered a chair. He kicked off, tackling Shatter, straight into a wall. He still smirked, even though he was now held with no way of escape. "Tell me where she is, Shatter. Do it, or I'll shatter you!" He growled out, putting the slightest amount of pressure on the body he held. The teen in his arms merely grinned even wider, despite the fact that Walker could already feel his bones begin to crack. "Oh, you're so very brutish, aren't you Walker? You're merely a bruiser. You're a watchdog. You aren't meant to learn, or develop, you're just the new 'Police'. Soon there will be more, better Supersoldiers. Made to counter the Supers, using technology and advanced superhuman bodies, just like you, except better. You're already worthless, Walker. There's a new hero, did you know? Called 'The Spirit'. He can do everything you can, and more. He can dissapear, he can walk through magic like nothing. Then there's people like Miste-" He was interupted by a loud CRACK sound, as Walker tightened his grip, and finally Shatter let out some recognition of pain. "I don't care about your lecture, I'm a soldier. I will serve untill I can no longer. Now, where IS SHE?!" He kept his voice as calm as he could, which wasn't very calm. Shatter merely chuckled, directly in his face. "I won't teeellll yoouuu" He said in a sing-song voice. Fed up, Walker did the one thing he felt like doing. Headbutted Shatter as hard as he could. The body he was holding shattered into nothingness, like glass... and he felt his mask, completely shattered on the wall, slide off his face. Then he finally heard it. Katherine's voice. "You stupid BASTARD, he's an illusionist!" She sounded in distress, but unhurt. Quickly he spun around, to see a nearly fine room. The door, and the wall, both things he did, were as he thought. But everything that Shatter's knives had hit were completely fine. But the major thing is that Shatter himself was standing, next to a tied up Katherine. With a quite shocked look on his face. "What? It broke! I can't get it back... why won't it work, dammit?!" He started to back away, fear apparent in his face. "No, stay back! I'll kill her!" He brandished a knife, readying to strike, but it was obvious he actually wasn't a knife-wielder. By the time his strike started to descend, Walker was already diving in front of it. It barely cut into his chest, as he performed a light backhand, sending the boy flying into the wall behind him. He screamed, as Walker heard his spine crack, or maybe his ribs. "So. What does your name actually mean?" He stood above the kid, who was gasping, sobbing, crying on the floor. He got no answer. He picked Shatter up, causing a scream of pain from him, and pulled him over to the phone. He quickly dialed his superiors. "Yeah, General? Sorry to disturb, but could you arrange for a pickup squad to come to my apartment? A criminal followed me home like a lost dog."
August 16th, 12:31 AM
Walker's Apartment, Manhattan, New York City
He checked the cleanup report from earlier. Various bodies were found, crushed by strength or cars, and the body that matched the description of the Strong Man, but apparently, the people who stayed around were part or all illusion, as no corpses of little boys were found. From what Jason was aware of, Kat was trying to go to sleep, possibly already was. He was sitting in his kitchen, at the dining table, in a shirt and pants. He wasn't particularly tired, he only needed a couple hours sleep anyways each night. He snapped his phone shut, looking at his mask, his real mask, which he found hidden, oddly enough, under his bed. Apparently, Shatter had replaced it with a fake one to catalyse his illusions. What he didn't take into account, is that his real mask wouldn't break so easily, and once the illusion is rooted, it's based on belief. At least, this is what Jason personally thought about it. It made sense, so he'd think that untill told otherwise by someone he trusted on the topic. He walked over to the cupboard which held his alcohol, and got himself a drink. Slowly he sipped on his drink as he thought about what had happened. He had won this bout by luck. Was what that kid said true? Was he defunct, not worthy of being a soldier anymore? He paused his drinking for a moment, before gulping the entire glass down. Now that he thought about it, he probably didn't need to sleep at all. The way the doctors had it explained it to him, or what he got out of it, was that because his regeneration acted as it did, he'd need to be constantly performing on a Superhuman tier to actually get tired and need rest. Even then, he could probably keep going on. He was a soldier. He made up his mind. He went into his bedroom, staying quite lest he wake up Katherine. He pulled out a simple white, button-down shirt, his favourite pair of denim jeans, his belt, and lastly, the only odd piece in his attire, his black duster. He changed out of his current clothes, and into these. He looked down, grinning slightly. The duster was pretty iconic, but he'd seen numerous versions around in the past couple of years. Advertised as the "Walker Duster", on all of those Superhero channels. He could simply claim he was a fan of.. himself. Captain Walker, that is. He chuckled softly to himself as he pulled his sneakers on, and then shoved his mask into his duster. It was inconspicuous enough, as the magic on it activated, making it cling to the inside of the duster, and the duster was thick enough not to outwardly show it. With that, he left the building the normal way, through the front door, and began walking.
August 16th, 1:21 AM
Government Facility, Brooklyn, New York City
Jason pushed open the doors, after unlocking the building. He didn't expect anyone to be here, except one, who he knew would be here. He closed the door, carefully, and began walking with purpose. He knew exactly where he was going as he strode the darkened halls. He took a right, opening a door, and began descending the stairs. Two floors. He continued on his way, before finding the only light in the building, shining out from around a door. He slipped the door open, to be met with a gun pointed in his face. "Woah, Doc... I came to have a chat. It's me, Walker." He looked past the gun to the man in a white lab coat, who was staring at him suspiciously. "Phrase." His voice was deep, deeper than Jason's atleast. He had simple, rectangular-framed glasses, and a dark stubble around his chin and jaw. He was a small man, but he had a great mind. "Those who walk the night must also walk the day. 2047, Saintlike color." As he repeated that phrase, the gun dropped. "You forgot to nod at the end, but I'll let that off. You never do anyways." He turned around and placed the gun on the table next to him, and went back to his workstation. A well-kept laboratory, with various chemicals, and also technology sitting on the shelves. "I need to get stronger, Doc. With so many heroes around these da-" The Doctor raised a hand, cutting him off. "You're fine, Walker. How many 'heroes' have you heard of surviving a sniper bullet to the gut, point blank?"
Walker thought for a minute. "None, but I sure have heard of heaps taking sniper shots. To the head, too, even hails of them. Something I can't do." He said, eyebrow raised as if to prove his point. The Doctor looked back. "Fine, I concede. Just because I can't be bothered getting distracted to prove that my work is superior. What do you want?" His question, while to the point, confounded Jason. "Well, that's the thing, I don't know. I know I need to grow to keep up with the new heroes coming out of the woodworks. Hell, apparently there's this guy who's immune to magic, and can dissapear, yet still do the things I do." He paused, before adding; "Plus, what good hero doesn't improve? I've been the same since I became this way four years ago." Jason shrugged, as the Doctor leaned against one of the benches which were clear, before sighing. "Nobody knows enough about 'The Spirit' to confirm anything more than being able to move through a magic barrier and dissapear. For all we know, it could've been staged, so don't worry about that." He pushed off the bench, walking over to one of the shelves, pulling down a flask of some chemical, and throwing it over to Jason, who caught it. "This is...?" His voice and expression both hopeful. The Doctor tilted his head in a gesture of boredom. "It is the elixer of youth, immortality, and complete and total power." He waited a moment, watching Jason's eyes widen considerably as he glanced between the Doctor and the flask. "You're shitting me!?" He spluttered out, holding the flask near-reverently. "Yes, Walker, I'm shitting you. I'm a scientist, not a god-mage from heaven. That is my latest serum. I could inject a gallon of the stuff into you, and it wouldn't do anything. Trust me, I've tried. The death rate is nearly zero, but I can't get it to work like my original. It just puts the subject at permanent peak human condition. You're already far past that, I can't help you. I'm sorry, Walker." He held out his hand, as Walker passed the flask back, a bit annoyed and a bit dissapointed. "Well, I guess it'd be too easy to just have something that powerful like that lying around." He said with a sigh. "There's nothing you can do? At all?" He pleaded, as the Doctor shook his head. "Sorry, Walker, but you're already my greatest masterpiece." With that, Walker said his goodbyes, considerably annoyed, more at himself for being inadequate than anything else. He put his mask on, just for the sheer sake of it. He had alot of time to think as he began his walk back to his apartment, and he may as well do it practising.