1.1 Able's Arrival

Able felt the bile rise in his throat as he stepped off the bus and on to the streets of the Divide. He knew that the city lived under its own rule now, but he could still taste the unsavory American spirit in the air. Detroit may be gone, he thought, but all its vileness remains.

Able watched the other thirty or so Canadians on the bus exit the bus and head off in to the streets. Most looked confused by the blasted surroundings, though a few seemed to know where they were going. None had been to the Divide before; buses to the city-state ran only one way.

Able didn’t care. He knew his quest must continue here, whether he liked it or not. He retrieved his small rucksack from beneath the bus and exited the terminal.

The sign above the bus station exit told him he was now in Hardcore City. Well known even before the Disaster as a haven for crime, the westernmost district of the Divide was now little more than a blasted wasteland. Some of the worst metahuman battles in the days following the Disaster occurred here and like much of the city, no one ever bothered to repair any of it.

Able stood outside the bus terminal and closed his eyes. He concentrated and activated the oldest of his stolen powers. He could feel the darkened taint of hundreds of degens and the warm glow of over a dozen metahumans. A haven for metahumanity indeed.

Two distinct metahuman signatures sparked his interest. Both strong, both very close to one another. The second seemed to be following the first. No better place to start, Able thought. If I have to go through every metahuman in the city, I will find what I’m looking for.

Able focused his extra-normal sense on the two meta-signatures and started after them. The two metahumans were just over four blocks away and conveniently enough on his way out of Hardcore City. They moved slowly, far slower than he could move. Able sped up to a brisk jog. With his sweatshirt and backpack, he could look like a jogger. Only a moron would jog in Hardcore City, but Able knew he could handle any threat that came his way.

He got a few strange looks, but no one was ready to match his glare let alone try to start trouble. With the other metas much slower pace he was able to catch up to them in just over six blocks. He ducked in to an alley about half a block away from the man in the rear and watched.

Both men had their backs to Able. The man in rear, dressed in black from head to toe followed after the man in the lead. He kept to the shadows, which seemed to thicken as he moved in to them. The man farther ahead, nearly a block from Able was flanked by four normals, all dressed in multiple garish colors. Clown colors, Able thought. They have to be Great Question goons.

The Great Question were the current rulers of the city. Able knew little about the street gang and its leader Antagonist. Only one member of the group had any real notoriety outside the Divide: Mouthpiece. An infamous Middle Eastern business man turned metahuman yes man, Mouthpiece served as the public voice for the Great Question.

And he was walking only a block away from Able.

Mouthpiece turned and for a moment, Able wondered if he might be in for a fight. Instead Mouthpiece’s gaze went to the nearby shadows where the man in black seemed to have disappeared.

“Come out, Midnight,” Mouthpiece said. “I tire of this cat and mouse game.”

The man emerged from the shadows, but the darkness seemed to follow him as he walked. “That’s Mister Midnight to you, Mouthpiece. I am here to take you out of the Divide and in to custody.”

“You have no authority here, Midnight,” Mouthpiece said. “And you have no chance in hell of defeating me, let alone the entire Question.”

The shadows shot forward in four tendrils and wrapped themselves around Mouthpiece’s goons. The tendrils of pure darkness squeezed and Able could almost hear the cracking of each man’s bones as Mister Midnight crushed the life out of them.

“Your Question goons can’t help you,” Mister Midnight said. “Today you die, Mouthpiece!”

“You’re a fool, Midnight. You’re a fool who doesn’t even know why he’s in the Divide. You don’t want to kill anybody, especially me. No, you just got lost on a mission and wandered in to the Divide by mistake, didn’t you?”

Able thought Mouthpiece must have gone insane. Who would stop to tell a preposterous story in a life and death battle? But Midnight hesitated at the words. He seemed confused and unsure of where he was or what he should do.

Mouthpiece smiled and opened his mouth wide. He inhaled sharply and Able had just enough time to cover his ears.

A blast of concentrated sound smashed in to Mister Midnight’s chest. Midnight’s midsection twisted unnaturally as bones shifted at the sledgehammer-strong blow. As Midnight wavered on his feet, Mouthpiece inhaled. The next blast shattered Mister Midnight’s skull.

Mister Midnight’s corpse wobbled for a second longer before it dropped to the sidewalk with a wet thud.

Mouthpiece closed his mouth. He took a few calming breathes as he checked his three piece suit. He brushed some imaginary dust from his lapel before he turned and started back towards the Q-Zone, now alone.

Able waited for Mouthpiece to get about a block farther away before he ran out to look at Mister Midnight’s corpse. Between the full body costume and the misshapen body beneath, the figure no longer even looked human.