Diamond Age of Superheroes [IC]

[Adjectives]

Shadowrunner, August 17th, 12:05pm
NYC Manhattan

Synthia paused at the bottom of the towering glass building, glancing up at the massive fake diamond which revolved on a tall black pole in front of the building. It was the Diamond International company headquarters and it dominated the skyline of New York - each time she looked at the glass structure she was reminded of the night she stumbled upon her father's secret weapons testing facility. As the sun reflected a glare of light into her eyes, Synthia flashed back to the moment the dark ray hit her. She often wondered if the dark ray simply gave her abilities or if it changed something else deep within her, flicked on a switch which was always there.

She blinked turning away from the harsh light and striding through the revolving glass doors of the building; of which there were four, to cope with the number of visitors to the building. As well as being the base of operations for Diamond International, where it's dirty dealings would take place with all sorts of corrupt regimes and malitias from across the planet, it was also a tourist hot spot. There was an entire section of the building where groups of civilians were led and educated on Diamonds - their history and their creation - and at the end of the tour the group was led to view some of the world's largest diamonds from behind red rope barriers and the beady eyes of security guards. There wasn't a year that went by that some supervillain didn't make an attempt to steal the diamonds which were pricier than the crown jewels.

A group of tourists passed by Synthia as she entered the building, their cameras flashing incessantly despite only being in the foyer. But she imagined to regular civilians that the entrance would be worthy of picture taking, given the hovels that they lived in. "If you would like to follow me this way into the auditorium--" The blonde tour guide began, gesturing the tourists to follow her as she walked backwards through the foyer. "Oh, well. Aren't we lucky, it's Synthia Roberts, daughter of James Roberts - the founder of Diamond International!" The young blonde woman smiled, revealing her perfectly white teeth. Synthia looked across to the tour guide, her eyes widening slightly as if to order her to move on or there would be dire consequences.

The woman reeled in her smile, clearly feeling quite hurt before she led the tourists out of the foyer. Synthia swiftly moved ahead, clearly disgusted that the cretins were allowed to step foot in the building as if the employees weren't bad enough. Stepping into one of the transparent glass elevators, Synthia rose up to the top floor and stepped out. The top floor was set aside for meetings and was strictly off limits to employees with limited access, which was nearly all of them save for a few. Synthia passed by her mother's office and stepped into her father's old office which was now her own after fiercely persuading her mother.

She closed the door behind her, looking around the room. It was very much untouched since her father's death all those years ago; even his old computer was left on the desk. Moving across to the desk, she picked up a photograph of herself as a child perched on her father's shoulders excitedly, a ghost of a smile passing across her lips. Abandoning the photo, Synthia reached up and took one of the books from the many antique bookcases which blocked the walls and stroked it's spine with her finger. Initially, she found her way into the secret lair by moving a portrait but in recent years that was a very obvious way of finding a supervillain lair so she was forced to change the entry method to something less conspicuous.

A series of LED red lights began to glow as she stroked the spine of the book, and the bookcase split into two halves to reveal a person sized tube. Placing the book away, Synthia stepped into the tube where she remained hovering for a moment in an anti-gravity field before she shot down the tube and out of the bottom in a few short seconds. She was hovering above a black pad in the centre of a massive room which was the breadth of the Diamond International building itself, stock full of giant metal death rays, dated superhero suits and an armada of secret weapons.

Synthia descended down onto the floor as the lights flickered on in the room, revealing the cold lair. It had been years since she had ventured down here; it seemed like an almost haunted place after the night that she gained her powers. She feared to touch another weapon should it fire at her and give her another untested power or even blow her into a trillion atoms. Yet today she had to come here; she needed something better than her handguns and rifle to assassinate the King of Africa.

She moved around the room silently, looking at the weapons which floated on their various stands. They all seemed very impressive, but there was no descriptions of what the weapons were, how reliable they were or even what their power source was. So she grabbed a weapon which seemed to be of some interest, different from the other guns in that it was a small white gun that looked quite harmless. She turned towards the cube where many of the weapons were tested, a structure made out of a soft purple material that wasn't unlike jelly that absorbed nearly any kind of blow.

She fired the gun inside the cube at a wooden target, a small white beam striking the wooden target and instantly turning the wooden manikin to a pool of water. Synthia smiled at this, opening the gun to reveal a tiny diamond inside but no power source. She knew that diamonds made excellent conductors, but what use was that if there was no power source inside the gun itself? Leaving the purple cube, Synthia closed the gun compartment and made her way back into the Diamond International building, satisfied that she had found a weapon that could never be traced back to the company or her.

[TheIronRuler]

The King.

Democratic Republic of Congo, Kinshasa.
1989, May, eve of the elections. 21:34 PM.

There was the smell of blood in the air. Nobody knew what the world would look like after that night – the direction in which Congo will go and, if given the opportunity, how the young revolutionist would lead the country he protected in its time of need. Some of the locals were literally forced off their homes to vote for a certain candidate, both the military and the foreign business interests pulled strings to have their candidate elected.

Keori would have none of that. His men patrolled the streets of the main cities and also visited the tribes away from the urbanized center of the country and informed them of the election – even protected some from hired thugs sent to coerce them into voting one way or the other. Keori was not the saint all proclaimed he was, he was a killer – a murderer. He killed many in a frenzy of drugs, and while he was sober. He participated in brutal acts, and he enjoyed them. Perhaps, for Keori, his new role would serve as a way for him to redeem himself.

He sat down with his friends around a round table outside of a bar and stared out into five voting booths at the end of the street. He was surrounded with his friends and workers in the organization, one that had dealt with the gun trade and human trafficking. They are about to make some reforms in their operation if Keori wins the elections. Morocono sat to his right and drank heavily, almost obliterating the small stock of brandy the bar had.

The mood was merry among the men – all fought alongside Keori, some as children and some as teenagers. The nineteen years old man became an adult ten years ago, and even that seemed like a century ago. Keori didn't drink much – he had already had his fill years ago, and nowadays he keeps himself sober for any unforeseen event. Just like the one happening right now.

Keori noticed a group of men, some in army clothes, forcing another group of civilians forward into the booths. They were opening carrying their weapons. Keori banged his hand against the table and whispered. The others knew what was said – they knew the magic word. Keori stood up and walked in the direction of the soldiers, his posy following behind. They will taste the wrath of the king of Kinshasa.

The King of Crime.

The King of the people.

And the soon to be King of Africa.

A shot from one of the soldiers went piercing through Keori's left shoulder blade, moving past his body and hitting one of his friends in his chest.

USA, NY, NYC, Millennium UN Plaza Hotel, The king's room
2012, August 17th , 2:32 AM.

Cold sweat enveloped the King's body. A blood curling scream shot out of the King's mouth and invaded the room. It was another one of his dreams. A dream of those girls he saw in the hands of the eldest, no – About those boys, the ones he fought with. The ones he killed with. The ones he called friends. Only Morocono is left.

The man burst into the King's room and shouted out for Keori. Morocono stood at the entrance to the King's room completely naked and holding his pistol, a slick desert eagle, "Keori, what happened?", he shouted in response.

The King tried to calm himself. His heart kept beating at an alarming rate and didn’t slow down. "A dream… It was all a dream", the King spoke quietly.

Morocono pulled down the pistol in his hands and looked at the King lying on his bed. "I… uh… It was good day yesterday. We made some good deals, and we secured that pharmaceiticles contract you so wanted-", Morocono spoke in an uncharacteristic upbeat tone.

"-It's worrying me, Moro. I don't know what will happen to me. All know of this curse, and that I have killed those men, what will happen if they know about us?", the King spoke. The fear in his eyes seemed genuine.

"You will still remain the King, friend. You will just have one more problem to take care of, and I will be there to help", Morocono answered.

[Xartarin]

August 17th, 9:49 P.M.
Newark, new Jersey

"Ah, alright," Vanessa said, t being told that this was Leo's stop. She pulled over to the sidewalk and parked, leaving the truck in neutral. She waited for Leo to step out of the car. Although he had been a hitchhiker for an unusually long time, it was nice to have someone to talk to. "Take care of yourself, now, and thanks for the company."

10:12 P.M.

It was a strange turn to be sleeping in a hotel instead of in the back of the truck, but Vanessa figured that might've been an unwise decision in Newark. After finding a run-down place that wasn't all booked up, she unloaded her things and slouched in the worn bed. A few flicks of the remote showed that even if anything was on this late, the TV wasn't good enough to see it clearly. Vanessa laid back on the top of the bed and closed her eyes, but sleep didn't come. She paced around the room, tossed and turned, some unknown anxiety plaguing her.

She could potentially leave for New York instead, it wasn't very far away. Maybe 15, 20 minutes at best. But then the time spent looking for an open motel would've been wasted. Besides, it might be good to at least spend a little time in Newark, it was a nice enough city. Sighing and sitting at the edge of the bed, she looked at some of the things she had carried up to the roof. The Monarch costume spilled out of one of the duffel bags, with her gun and half gas mask tucked away in another. "I guess there'd be no harm in doing a little advertisement," she said to herself as she walked over and picked up the costume.

[Arkaei]

Kit Faulkner, The Technomancer
Newark, New Jersey
August 17th, 9:54 PM
A Street Less Traveled

Kit walked along the sidewalk in his usual lazy waddle, taking a shortcut back to the dormitories from the shopping square a few blocks away. It was a quiet street he was on, a few stores here and there, but all of them closed for the night and with nobody passing through when it was so dark out. Every now and then he could see the glaring headlights of a car coming down the road; probably lost, he thought, either that or up to no good. Not that Kit counted himself among either of those, of course. He was simply returning from his latest shopping spree at 'The Junkyard', one of the best suppliers of scrap metal and electrical appliances in town: they were friendly, had decent quality merchandise, and, most importantly, they were cheap. Being a college student wasn't making him any money, yet.

His mind started to wander, as it usually does, and he eventually started thinking about what the 'schizo-wizard', as Alex calls him, told him about 'The Guild' and of 'magic'. Apparently, the whole concept of being a secret society has deteriorated over the centuries that the Guild has been running, and it is now open to anyone that can use magic, such as himself. No more running around chasing fairy tales in ancient ruins or abandoned monasteries trying to get into some elusive club. Still, the Guild as a whole is unknown to the common populace, and is to be kept that way by oath of its members. He supposed the Guild wasn't ready to go public, just yet.

Regardless, the revelation that he would be a part of some conglomerate of mages and conjurors had... surprisingly little effect on his life. The Guild preferred not to involve itself in the affairs of its members, and let each have free reign over what they do, rarely interfering with any sort of malicious or unorthodox behavior, if at all. The reason why the Guild even exists, then, escaped Kit at the moment. But whatever.

Suddenly, Kit noticed a... man? huddled inside an alleyway up ahead, which snapped him out of his contemplations. He was pretty sure there wasn't anything there before, but then again, he wasn't really one to pay attention all that much. Putting his bags down, he hurried over to make sure nothing was amiss.

"Hey, man, everything alright?" He asked tentatively; the man was deathly pale, and shivering uncontrollably. Was he homeless? Kit considered calling an ambulance.

The man simply looked up as Kit addressed him, the shivering suddenly coming to a stop, and although Kit couldn't see his eyes for all the matted hair covering the man's face, he thought he saw a faint gleam where they should have been.

"Uh... are you... alright?" Kit asked again, but this time, it was more with suspicion than concern, and he involuntarily took a step backwards. The 'hobo' slowly started to rise, hunched over as if about to hurl. And then he was on top of him. There wasn't any time for Kit to react, one moment the man was right in front of him, and then he had Kit on the ground, snarling face just inches away from his. Kit tried to push the man off of his body, but he was extremely heavy for a man of his size and was about to try and strangle Kit, hands reaching out for his exposed neck. Thinking quickly, Kit fished out a small, transparent orb filled with some sort of brown substance from out of his jeans pocket and stuck it to the hobo's side, pulling a pin out of the sphere in the process. The substance in the orb started bubbling violently, and Kit covered his ears.

The sound from the explosion would've woken up the entire street, if anybody actually lived there, but disturbing the peace was the last thing on Kit's mind. The 'bomb' exploded, sending the seemingly insane individual tumbling a few feet and splattering of chocolate all over the place, with Kit getting away unscathed, if a little sore from the force of the explosion and covered in chocolate.

"Ha! I knew those Choco-Bombs would come in handy!" He laughed, licking chocolate from his face and getting up to run. He didn't quite know what happened, but judging by whatever that guy did, and how Kit lacked any sort of weapon or equipment at the moment, Kit knew he was out of his league. The way he moved was kind of like... the Spirit.

"But I didn't even feel it when he knocked me down... there's gotta be something else to it." He thought, trying to figure out the man's secret as he ran. Wouldn't it be cool if this guy had the same kind of powers that the Spirit did? Then again, he supposed it'd be a little cooler if the guy wasn't trying to kill him at the moment. He chanced a look back, and found the man hot on his tail, catching up to him with alarming speed.

"First things first, gotta get away from this guy."

Taking a few more bombs from out of his pocket, he took out the safety pins one by one, dropping them at regular intervals behind him. They might not do much, but they would slow his assailant down, at least.

[Lydyn]

Newark, New Jersey
August 17th, 9:49 PM
A Street Less Traveled

Leo waved to the woman as she put her truck into gear and drove off, holding his hand up for a few moments with a pleasant smile. Slowly, he lowered his hand and his fade away away as he furrowed his brows for a moment. It was a shame they had to part ways and in some small way he had hoped she would stay, but he figured it might be for the best after all. He understood he had been on the news lately and his fame had burst into flames from the simple fact that he came off as mysterious. That fact alone could draw unwanted attention and he didn't want others getting hurt just because they knew him. He reminded himself that it was better this way.

He wasn't sure why he had come here and in truth, wasn't entirely sure where here was, but he looked around a little more and decided it was a city! Really, that's all he really needed to know, being a natural wanderer. He looked up and down the streets and was a little surprised to find it so lacking life that one would expect from a busy city. It wasn't hard to figure out he was in the slums or some variation of. Shrugging lightly, he made his way down one street to see what life had to offer him.

Newark, New Jersey
August 17th, 9:54 PM
A Street Less Traveled

The monk widened his eyes slightly just a split-second before the explosion vibrated the entire block and quickly looked behind him to see a man started to run down the street with ... chocolate on his face? A big city was bound to have weird heroes doing all sorts of odd things, he figured, but that's when he spotted the.. creature. It was hard to make out, but it certainly had a killer's intent to it's movements. That when the man started dropping little bombs that blew up in more chocolate (a fact Leo had a hard time accepting), but the creature didn't seem to slow down that much.

Taking in a deep breath, Leo shifted his feet carefully and focused on the creature. A few moments went by as time seemed to slow for the monk as his mind focused more acutely on the creature. A subtle shift of his foot propelled the monk forward in a blink of an eye, creating a rush of wind in the spot he had chosen to step to, which was between the man and the creature. It wasn't slowing down to Leo's appearance, but he had counted just on that simple fact. Pulling back his arm, the monk threw a punch forward as he moved his right foot forward at the same time to create more force. As the blow landed on the creature, it stopped it, and then it forced it off the ground to throw it back the opposite way in such force that it would likely crush a lesser being. Leo wasn't counting on the creature being squishy though. Pulling back his fist, he glanced back, feeling the other man having paused. "Are you okay?"

[Adjectives]

Shadowrunner

August 17th 2pm

Shadowrunner stood before the long exaggerated mirror before her, sliding the sleek white gun into her utility belt. She felt slightly proud of herself; despite being a murderous bitch, going down into that secret lair was an accomplishment. "Well, Dad. I bet you never thought this what would be the fate of your little weapon. Killing the King of Africa." She smiled, tracing her fingers over the smooth metal before her eyes found their way to the clock on the other side of the room. 2pm sharp.

"I'm not going to repeat this, so pay attention. The King is going to be at the ---- at 5pm. You need to be there, in his private quarters to kill him and you must not be detected or there will be no payment. This is where Ghost comes in; he must neutralise all security and recording devices. When the kill is complete, plant the false evidence and get your ass out of there. No traces at all, do you hear me?" Her mothers voice echoed through her mind before memories of the weaponry of the guards, the powers and abilities of the King began to repeat in her mind, preparing her for the assassination.

Just thinking about it made her adrenaline pump that much faster than usual, a wave of excitement rushing through her. She could just picture it, in the luxurious quarters of the King of Africa, firing her gun at him and seeing him turn to a puddle of water which would soak into the foundations of the building. Nobody would really know absolutely who killed him, and secretly she would always know that she killed one of the possibly great future leaders of the era. She would be immortal.

August 17th 3pm - NYC Hotel

Shadowrunner stared down at the boy as he lay sprawled out over the large comfortable hotel bed. Across his knee and his shoulder was bandaging and most likely quite a bit of stitching, but somehow he got lucky or managed to slow down the bullets. "Ghost! Wake up, we've got two hours until the job. You've got a date with destiny!" Shadowrunner said, drawing up an unnatural enthusiasm to get the boy involved. Somehow the teenage nightmare lying on that bed was statistically more likely to keep her alive, and she made no attempts to understand it.

She threw him some pills, some caffeine pills and some painkillers. "We've got to go. Remember, you need to take out the security undetected. None of this guns blaring crap, it's amateur. And if I get shot, you're dead." Shadowrunner said firmly, stopping in front of another mirror to check herself out routinely, running her hands through her hair whilst keeping an eye on Ghost.

[Squrmy]

NYC Hotel Room, August 17th, 3:01 PM

Katou awoke with a start, eyes flying open suddenly – his hand reaching for his gun before he realised who was standing over him. It was Shadowrunner. “How the fuck’d you find me?” He mumbled, sitting up – rubbing at his eyes, and yawning softly to himself.

After a moment or two, he got to his feet – walking over to the kettle, filling it up with water from a tap, and then putting a caffeine pill in the bottom of a mug while waiting for the kettle to boil – along with a good few spoonfuls of sugar. “I’ll be back in a second.” He murmured, opening a tear in reality – he stepped into it, and he was gone.

He found himself in the ‘void’ he kept as his own personal store room – a huge, never-ending space filled with two years worth of plunder. He walked through the piles of stolen DVD players, a few cars, racks filled with guns, and a whole lot of other shit, before finding himself at a wardrobe. He opened it, stripping off his clothes – re-dressing himself in a pair of black jeans, blue sneakers, a green t-shirt and a black hoodie – a different colour scheme to his usual outfit, but essentially the same. He swapped out his white mask for a grey one, nodding in satisfaction after checking himself out in a mirror. He tugged up the mask, re-arranging his bangs so they obscured his eyes.

Once he’d dressed himself, he walked over to where he kept his weaponry – attatching silencers to his guns, as well as pulling an extra two knives from the shelf and strapping them to the undersides of his arms. He rolled up a long, thin length of steel wire, placing it in a side pocket. “That’ll shut the bastards up.” He said to himself, before stepping back through the hole in reality and into the Hotel room, just as the kettle finished boiling.

He poured himself a cup of coffee – black, with lots of sugar. He drained the cup, along with a few of the pain killers Shadowrunner had thrown at him. He placed the empty cup down on the table, snickering as he walked up behind her – quirking an eyebrow as she checked herself out in the mirror. “You look beautiful, darlin’.” He grinned, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Now. Where’ve we gotta go? I’ll take us there. Be much quicker. And I get it.. no guns. I picked up a few bits and pieces.”

[TheIronRuler]

USA, NY, NYC, Millennium UN Plaza Hotel, The king's room
2012, August 17th , 3:32 PM.

Dinner was served. After an uncomfortable encounter with the King's bodyguards at the door, the hotel's server entered the King's suite and left quickly after Morocono grabbed the lunch they ordered and sent the man away with a hundred dollar bill in his pocket. He went past by the eighteen bodyguards that found themselves in the King's floor, some in their own room and others patrolling the hallway or conversing with the other African ministers. They carried visible automatic weapons and god only knows what they hand underneath their clothes.

It was a tender beef steak and baked beans, but it didn't mind Morocono. He devoured every meal in his path as if it was his last, a habit he could never shake off since when he was a child. Even though the King shared the same experience, he ate his meal much slower and tried to savor the flavor on his tongue. Morocono quickly finished eating his food and coughed loudly, then scoffed down a glass of orange juice. He let out a sigh and reached for a small metal vial in his pocket.

"No drinks", the King said, stopping Morocono from taking a swig of scotch. "Today we head back, but before we do I have a meeting with the president", the King stopped eating and pushed the plate away, smiling at Morocono. "I will meet him at five in the evening, among other heads of state. They are afraid of us, friend, and they don't know how to deal with me. We have everything in our lands, yet they cannot exploit us.", the King pushed his chair back and stood up with a wide smile glued on his face.

"We made it, finally we are among equals. European nations ask for my help-", the King raised his hands in the air, "-We received recognition. We succeeded". The King walked away from the table and made his way to the large window behind him, covering the entire wall. He pushed back the curtains and looked down on the streets below, teeming with traffic. "Every city in our nation will be as grand as this, and we will integrate the tribes into them. This success had been phenomenal, friend, I…", the King turned back and watched as Morocono took a swig of scotch from the vial.

"We still have little push here, King", Morocono spoke after drinking from his metal vial, "Our army is weak, and so is our industry. I fear… I fear they might try and crush us, and with your nature revealed, they might just have an excuse to invade", Morocono's tone was worrisome. The King could sense the fear in his words, but he failed to answer.

They both knew that a murderer such as Keori could never be a real King.

[Adjectives]

Shadowrunner NYC Hotel Room, August 17th, 3:20 PM

As she traced her lipstick across her lips, scrutinizing every missed spot, she noticed Ghost cut open reality in a gaping hole behind her. She turned, placing the lid on the lipstick, looking with interest at the opening as a white light shone out of it. Despite her interest, she decided better against going inside the opening; she didn't want to risk exploding into flames upon entering his little domain.

Instead she returned to the mirror, waiting until the boy returned in a different coloured mask and clothing. She felt a stab of envy at his abilities; he was so arrogant with them and too immature for them. I could do so much more with them. Shadowrunner thought, holding out one of her Taurus handguns in front of her, inspecting the newly attached silencer. As she did so, the boy moved towards her. “You look beautiful, darlin’.” He said, grinning as he wrapped an arm around her waist. Before his fingers could even touch her leather costume, she vanished into a shade, darting from his arm to the space behind him. "Don't touch me like that, you little pervert." She growled, her fist clenching around her gun.
"We're going to the New York Plaza Hotel. The King is on the top floor, but it's the only floor that's got any decent protection. Remember, keep it incognito." Shadowrunner said, scorning in her tone as she placed her gun back into her utility belt and wrapped her arm around his. She noted that should he fail to keep it incognito, she would probably have to get rid of the boy to succeed in her mission.

3:33PM Plaza Hotel, NYC

Once they had teleported through reality, Shadowrunner looked up and down the corridor in which they appeared. Her handgun was held out to her side, but when she realised that there were no guards in the immediate vicinity she turned and looked at the boy. "Are you sure this is the right flo-" She began, but stopped herself as she saw two dark skinned men round the corner in black uniforms. The men were quick to see her covered in arms, and raised their weapons to her immediately. "Put your hands in the air!" One of them barked, his eyed wide with anger. It seemed obvious that this was more than just a job to these men. "Okay." Shadowrunner replied, glancing to Ghost and giving him a gentle nod to anticipate her next move. She held up her arms, firing her gun into the lights which illuminated the corridor, her gun silenced so as to make little noise as the area was plunged into darkness. She immediately vanished into the shadows, darting as a shade across the floor before materialising again, slashing one of the men's throats and vanishing.

Once Ghost had killed the other man, Shadowrunner noticed the faint muffle of someone speaking through the radio on one of the corpses. She picked up the radio, listening to the voice. "I repeat, Ahmed please respond. There have been reports of a disturbance approximately thirty metres south-west of the King. Guards are arriving to investigate soon." The voice of some superior said, sounding agitated. Shadowrunner dropped the radio, a slight grin meeting her lips. "Take out all the guards, I can't be disturbed when killing the King. I'd rather not get microwaved today." Shadowrunner said to Ghost, rushing towards the corner of the corridor as the sounds of boots hitting the floorboards drew closer. She cut into the carpet with her bloodied combat knife, ripping up the side of the carpet. Tucking the knife away, she turned into a shade and slithered beneath the carpet which offered her protection from the harsh corridor lights, darting towards the King's room.

[Squrmy]

August 17th, 3:35 PM, Plaza Hotel, NYC

After Ghost had quickly and efficiently killed the first of the King’s men, he nodded to Shadowrunner. “Aye. You get him.. I’ll handle the goons.” He looked along the darkened corridor, sighing to himself. Well, Ghost.. this is what you wanted. Go get ‘em, tiger. He snickered quietly to himself, before stepping forwards – opening a number of small reality warps around his body, which concealed his form from sight – he was still physically there, but he wasn’t visible. He rounded a corner, breathing lightly – bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for the Guards to appear.

The corridor was pitch black, so the first Guard came cautiously, a flashlight held in his hand – Ghost allowed him to travel a few feet past him before stepping up behind him, pulling one of his knives from its sheath with one smooth movement. He stabbed at the thin air in front of him, manipulating reality so that the cutting force of the knife was transported to the Guard’s left breast – stabbing into him and piercing his heart, the man falling to the ground with a soft groan, his gun clattering on the floorboards a moment later.