As the countdown started, Justice was disappointed. All of the rats had scattered. His primary rating was Tank, not a pure Speedster. He would have to chase all these specks of shit down one by one. At least Turbulence had the guts to stay with his girl. He knew Lady Justice was more than capable of taking care of herself so he did not worry about her. Right now, he was going to clean house and show the JTF personnel what a real Enhanced could do.
The JTF supposedly created each recruit class with complimentary skills but Justice found this group very lacking . Net and Larson were just gnats and he would enjoy kicking their asses but he still wanted a real challenge. Judge and Jury never held back when they were available, which was not often, but they did hire the best Enhanced trainers and sparring partners in Chicago. He mowed through all of them because they were facing the best. Soon, the old man would have to pass the torch to him and then he would lead the charge. He was already the most popular Enhanced in the world but his résumé was short. He had his first assisted arrest at 13, his first unassisted at 14. He killed his first man last year when he flipped a bank robber’s car over during a shootout and attempted escape. There were some questions about jurisdiction so the matter was quietly filed away. He was a Category 3 on his way to Category 5 legend. And he would not be some brain-damaged recluse like Atomic Power.
Justice took his time and moved from room to room on the first floor of the BIT. He could not fly so he needed to clean out the enclosed areas first, then he would take on whomever was still in the EUT. As he entered a large room, a mock conference room, he spotted his first victory. Scimitar was waiting on the other end.
“You the only one here?” asked Justice. He might be powerful but he was not stupid. If the recruits teamed up together, they could slow him down. Without his girl involved, they stood no chance of beating him.
“Just me, Justice,” replied Scimitar, his arms shimmering in the simulator lights.
Justice had files on each recruit in the class, except Larson. He tried every connection he had at the JTF but know one knew anything about Recruit Michael Larson from Indianapolis. The file was sealed by Director Lehrer personally above Top-Secret. His dad could get the information but there would be questions. He did have a lot information on Scimitar. He was actually looking forward to sparring with him.
Scimitar was a partial shapeshifter. He could transform his arms into a high strength material, similar to steel. He could also shape the metal into various weapons and objects, his favorite, the curved swords of his namesake.
“Let’s do this,” said Justice, smiling. He speed charged as Scimitar kneeled down, his metal arms reforming into a half-dome shield around his body. As Justice collided with the metal barrier, Scimitar felt his entire body launched backwards. He had never felt a power like this before, as if a train just hit him. As his body hit the wall behind him, cracking the drywall, Justice used his speed to quickly continue the assault, finding openings as Scimitar tried to reshape his metal arms and defend himself. Scimitar felt a blow to the head rattle him as he dropped both arms, shaped as sledgehammers, down. Justice, in mid-punch, stopped, and grabbed Scimitar’s arms before his brain could register what happened. He could feel Justice squeezing, trying to shatter the metal that was a part of his body.
“Disappointing,” Justice mocked. “But exactly what I was expecting.” This was no effort for the offspring of Judge and Jury. He was a god among men.
Scimitar only heard the cracking of the metal, not the voice of his tormentor. He knew Justice had shattered his wrists but he would not feel the pain until he shifted his arms back to normal. Unless he could escape from Justice, and get healed, his day was done.
Justice grinned at Scimitar as he finished his show of strength with a toss across the room. Scimitar landed hard on the wood floor, bounced and tumbled over. As Justice walked towards his prone opponent to claim his prize, a deafening boom shook the entire building.
“And that’s why she is with me,” Justice said to Scimitar, not caring if he heard his boasting.
He knew Scimitar was not going anywhere so he walked back to the other room to look out the window looking out to the EUT. He wondered who just got destroyed by Alaina. He hoped it was not Larson. He instinctively cracked his knuckles thinking of the damage he was going to do to that freak.
Scimitar was hurt as he struggled to crawl away from the room, Justice occupied with whatever was going on outside. He had not received a beating like this since his childhood before his Reveal. A few of the boys at his old neighborhood would call him a terrorist or a rag-head and throw rocks at him. When he retaliated with his own derogatory names, he was pulled off his bike and beaten until they broke his arm and nose. The police were called and the boys were given community service for their assault. His family moved out of the inner city and closer to other Arab families in a suburb southwest of the city. After he had his Reveal a few years later, he went back to the neighborhood and smashed every car at the homes of his tormentors. The police never did find the person responsible.
Scimitar looked up thinking Justice was back to finish him off but instead felt a delicate hand reach under him. Trauma had been hiding nearby and had slipped inside.
“Shhh,” she whispered, “just relax.” Her finger lightly touched his brow. This was unexpected but not unwelcome. Trauma was quite pretty. Scimitar thought she was interested in Larson. He had noticed her looking at him all day.
Scimitar closed his eyes and waited to feel Trauma’s healing power but instead felt the tug as she pulled his disk off. She had just played him.
“That was cold,” Scimitar replied. He was stupid for allowing himself to be taken down like this.
“Sorry hun, it was either me or him,” she said trying to hide her fear. She hoped Scimitar would understand. If she was going to do anything other than field medic, she needed to show initiative. She was not a complete bitch. She could feel the breaks in Scimitar’s arms with her power and mended them.
“And thanks, “ he said, graciously.
“Scimitar has been eliminated,” the speaker announced.
As Trauma got up to find a new hiding spot, a large hand gripped her head and held her down in a sitting position.
“You took something that belongs to me. I don’t like when people steal what is mine.”
She felt her body pulled off the ground and screamed from the pressure on her head. Justice either ignored or was oblivious to her pleadings.
“I’ll just take yours.”
Scimitar did not care if he was eliminated. That asshole was needlessly hurting her. As he tried to stand to help Trauma, he felt the harness lock up his muscles and immobilize his body.
“Let her..,” he began but his vocal chords froze.
Justice pulled Trauma up with one hand, her arms and legs flailing around trying to grab anything to relieve the pain to her skull. Justice slammed his fist against her spine as he ripped the life disk out. She felt the shock through her entire body and screamed again. He dropped the Healer like a rag doll, her body crumpling on the floor next to Scimitar with tears streaking down her face.
“Don’t ever cross me again, Trauma,” Justice warned flatly.
“Trauma has been eliminated,” announced the speaker.
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