STORM/The Death of Gregor Meru
From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe
This played out not only in game, but over board RP. Here is a transcript of what was recorded.
As of 01:00 Wedneday morning, the Singularitarian's emails are no longer answered. He's not logged into any comm channels. He hasn't phoned anyone.
Arrelin had been trying to reach Greg for the better part of the day without success. After checking both the hotel and the usual route he took to the base and still finding nothing his fears solidified into cold hatred.
"Nemesis..."
Taking up his axe he headed for Peregrine Island. They wanted a war... they got one!
Brian Sampson sat on a park bench, with a hotdog, after clearing out an old Tsoo warehouse. He pulled out his blackberry and began checking backlogged messages. There was one from the Professor.
Morning Sampson,
I found a large ultrascope in the middle of one of the labs this morning. Had to rush to a lecture before I got a good look at things. Probably not a big deal. If you see Gregor, Geoff McCain, or Jason, ask them about it. I'd like to talk to them before we get it running.
Prof. Renegade
'Interesting message.' Brian thought to himself. 'Prof.'s not usually too big on keeping close tabs on what people are up to, that's my job. Oh well I'll see most of them tonight at the STORM briefing.'
Afternoon Prof.,
I'll see Meru, Wilson, and possibly McCain tonight. I'll let you know. Who the heck is Jason?
Gold Cop
Cara sat in her favorite coffeehouse in Kings Row sipping her giant double shot mocha with extra whip. She leaned her chair back against the wall and thought about the message she'd received a few minutes earlier from Sing.
So, he's going ahead with it. Hells bells, it sounds like he's already started. Dammit, he shouldn't be alone.
Imi had left her friend a very concerned message. None of her efforts to reach him had been successful. She stared at the coffee she no longer wanted. Restlessly, she strode to the door tossing the still full cup into the trash.
She couldn't do anything about Sing at the moment and that pissed her off. She called one of her contacts, might as well put that energy to use and get some work done.
Rel had been at it for over an hour. Hunting down patrols of Nemesis on the island. Questioning the leaders... nothing had been gained so far and it was only further inciting his fury.
He held the latest Lieutenant over the edge of the building by his neck, a cold look in his eyes.
"Tell me where to find Singularitarian."
The lieutenant struggled in his grasp before remembering where he was. He was panicking.
"I don't know who that is! I swear! Please, just... let me live!"
Rel tightened his grip on the poor soldier, his voice a dangerous whisper.
"Give me a name who should know... now..."
The soldier was crying, afraid for everything. "Captain Velikoff! He's in the base!"
Rel let the man go, his body plummeting to the streets below. He had a new person to hunt...
Official STORM Mission Report #503
Agents: Gold Cop, Imitation, Fire Scyth, Nanao, Arrelin Windspire, Grey Gargoyle, Integrus
A small STORM Strike Team left the base at around 10 PM last night after much discussion over the Ultrascope and the whereabouts of Dr. Gregor Meru. The team paused on route to Portal Corp so that Fire Scyth could readjust his navigation system. Arrelin Windspire left the team before we got to mission entrance.
Clockwork King was shut down.
Note: There have been some Council agents that claim STORM shut down a virus facility that evening. Those reports so far have proved completely unfounded. We were never there.
Commander Brian Sampson
Prof. Renegade heard the news via a text blast from Gold Cop. The Rikti commander would have to wait for now. As Renegade made for the base thoughts kept running through his head. How did this happen? Even when the medcom get overridden they generally redirect, not fail completely. Why was he even alone?
The base didn't offer much solace. The reports came in quickly. The last time he used the teleporters, his medcom unit going offline as well as his communicator, the time the body was found.
Exoldier was one of the first to give useful information in person. He confirmed the reports that Meru, Electric-Knight and Geoff were running strange experiments with power readings and the Ultrascope. I went back and viewed earlier tapes, but Jason was standing there watching, trying to be helpful. Even through the suit I can sense his youth. What would I do if my technology failed to save his life?
Arrelin came next. Brian reported him as quite shaken but he seemed stable here, relatively anyway. He filled in a couple of gaps for me, before letting me know that the body was stil at the morgue waiting to be processed. That just wouldn't due.
With my newly acquired connections down at the PPD, it didn't take long to receive the body, not like they could've stopped me. It certainly looks like Meru. I loaded him into a cryo rack and made for the base again. I'd do this examination personally.
As I flew through the air, with this high tech coffin in my arms, I almost lost it myself. I've been in touch with my abilites for so long now, that human frailty seemed so distant, so unreal. Well this was real. My skin starts glowing blue and I have to struggle to keep the shift from happening. What good would that do? If I smash the body in anger, I help no one.
So I forced it down and kept going, and I reminded myself, this is what happens to heroes. Heroes fall. If it wasn't a possibility, it wouldn't take a hero to do the job.
Early DNA tests confirm the identity of the body. There's an awful lot of nano-tech here for a clone. It would have been allot of work. I need to have the dimensionalist do some tests to make sure we're not dealing with a plane jumper.
Cause of death: Bullet to the brain.
Nemesis Soldier After-Action Report 20080528 0600:
Subaltern Tirailleur Velikoff
We targetted Singularitarian once again from a distance of 450m with a five-man Comet squad. The target was at the 500 block of Almadega and Twenty-third. Our bullets must have impacted with his MedCom unit this time, because the body did not disappear into the ether in this instance. Noting that something was off, I ordered three jaegers down to the street level to retrieve the corpse and take it to Bespoke Warehouse Lambda. Comet squad returned to base and I traveled obtusely to Lambda in civilian garb.
Upon arriving in Lambda, all external and internal electronic devices were disabled via EMP. The external devices were stored for examination. Genetic samples were taken for identification from twenty-three locations on the body. His nanotechnological array was stubborn at first, but soon ran out of power.
Cuirasseur squad Iota Ten was summoned to dispose of the body. I returned to my Comet squad. Bespoke Warehouse Lambda is now ready for demolition.
Prof. Renegade read over the letter, when he finally let himself rest. Exoldier had found the need to interupt his work with it. Maybe the kid was just trying to give the Prof. a reason to take a break. No matter his motivation, it was in fact an important letter.
He looked over at Meru's body and shook his head. It had to go back to Boston. Well of course it does. The Prof. had always intended to return it to his wife, but he thought there'd be more time. More time for what? The autopsy is done, his med unit and comunicator are missing, and I'd need an expert to read that nano-tech properly. The only expert I have is one the table.
He pulled out his communicator and called for an escort. He thought it would be disrespectful to fly it, or teleport it up to Boston. He'd hire a private train car, and fly to Boston later for any funeral proceedings.
Rel had received the communication from Professor, asking him to be a part of the escort detail. He queued up a message and sent it back.
"Renegade, I'd be honored to escort him back to Boston. Tell me when and I assure you. Nothing will stop that procession from reaching the destination. I will also take care of the financial costs if you wish."
Rel sat down on his couch, head in hands. His plans would have to wait till after the funeral. He owed his friend that much and more. He pulled out his cell phone, punching in a speed dial number.
"Evans? It's Rel, I need you to do some discreet digging for me. I'm going to want anything you can find on a Captain Velikoff... What? He made the mistake of angering me David... Yes, get the PR department together... What I'm going to do will require... cleanup. I'll be gone for some time at a funeral so take all my calls please? Thank you David."
Rel went to his closet and began to pack some things for the trip, it was going to be a rough couple of days...
Johnathan recieves the call on his communicator. An escort needed. For what, the message does not say, but the tone is both and dire and yet devoid of urgency. Tragedy has clearly struck.
Johnathan appears by the Professor's side scant moments later; arriving unseen between one instant and the next as he so often does. The somber scene, and the Professor's dismal expression are taken in, both, at a glance. Johnathan's own features are utterly unmoving. He turns to his friend, and says, "Professor; you called and I have come as quickly as my magic could carry me. Please tell me what has transpired."
The Prof. exhausted from work points to the examination in his lab. A white sheet over a clear body.
"Dr. Gregor Meru was found dead. Several nemesis regulation to his face and chest. His medcom unit is still missing."
He spoke in a matter of fact manner, apparently having already drained himself of emotions.
"DNA tests proved positive, against the sample we have on Meru. The nano tech is still there. I don't have time, to do a full analysis of all the underlying tech, but I'm pretty sure it's him."
He checked the time, and shook his head. It was almost midnight.
"I've arranged transport for the body. A private train from Paragon City to Boston. I thought anything too fantastic might seem disrespectful. I do not know his wife. I was hoping, since my tests weren't quite complete, that you could do a scan of some kind. It's Meru's DNA but there's a slim chance it's a clone or a dimensional double. I don't want to send the wrong Meru home."
Johnathan nods. He holds up his left hand above the body, and whispers an incantation beneath his breath (something about the all-seeing light of Laaral). He closes his eyes and sighs, ever so slightly. "It is him. This is the man I met by the name of Singularitarian, and no other. You said that the soldiers of Nemesis were responsible? It seems the warning he recieved was right; his life was indeed in great danger. I am sorry, my friend."
"Thank you Jonathan. It's going to be a rough time for many."
Renegade moved back to the body and carefully dettached the support shelf, lifting the body slowly into the cryo rack and sealing it shut.
"I'll let you, and everyone, know as soon as funeral arrangements reach me."
Johnathan nods, "I would be grateful if you would, indeed, do that. I would wish very much to attend, if his family would permit me to do so."
With that, Johnathan turns and leaves.
The Electric-Knight paced around the base. No immediate sign of Geoff Wilson... He pulled a communicator from his belt and tried to reach him that way... Nothing but his automated voice system.
"Geoff, we have to talk about what's going on. What the hell was he up to? Give me a shout" and he slid the device back into his belt.
Electrical currents crackling around his clenched fists, he headed towards the telepads.
The Electric-Knight spent the day chasing down leads and searching every street, rooftop, alleyway and hideout he could sniff out... looking for Nemesis agents.
Being completely unfamiliar with Nemesis and Peregrine Island, Electric-Knight had a rather rough day.
Despite having been certain he had encountered some Nemesis agents in a particular spot of the city before, he found no traces of them. Perhaps they were busy with some part of this whole plot that is yet unknown... Perhaps they'd been (Without E-K knowing it) chased off by Arelin already. Whatever was the case, the only luck he had today was bad luck. As a large contingent of the Council had spotted the hero and set up a major ambush. Apparently they were still holding a grudge about the Electric-Knight's numerous interruptions in their vile schemes.
As the sun was finally hanging low upon the horizon, and all the searching, talking and fighting had resulted in nothing, the Electric-Knight was flying through the air, scanning the city below. Suddenly, a blast from a Council Sniper's rifle sent him plummeting towards the ground. Careening into one of the lower building's rooftops shoulder-first, the hero skidded along the hard surface.
Another blast missed the mark, but the residual explosion still caused a good amount of damage as the Electric-Knight rolled away.
The sound of multiple soldiers’ boots raced quickly towards where he was still lying. He felt the heat of the flame-thrower's attack before he saw the bright orange flash pass over-head as he tumbled backwards to avoid it.
Eventually, having been hopelessly out-numbered and over-powered, the hero managed to zap a clearing for an escape. That was not before he had been set on fire, blasted with dark miasmic energies and shredded with the claws of the Vampyr.
Limping, wounded, exhausted and his costume in shreds, the beleaguered Electric-Knight entered the base and sat down next to the Entrance's Telepads.
He slowly and painfully took out his phone and checked for messages again...
Cara began unpacking her few belongings in her new apartment in Kings Row. She had planned a small housewarming party. But, it wasn't the time for a party. It was time to remember and honor a dear friend.
She'd received the Professor's request to be part of the escort to Boston. She was surprised and grateful for the invitation. Sing had been one of her closest friends. His loss had triggered unforeseen consequences.
Imitation shook her head. Now wasn't the time to think about her own pain. She'd accompany Sing's body back to Boston and do her duty. Then, she'd seek out Beatrice, Sing's wife. Beatrice might need another woman to talk to, someone to confide in, someone who understood. Cara would offer that to the widow.
Geoff Wilson sighs as he arrives at the base and begins checking his messages.
"OK, this is getting out of hand" he mutters to himself.
Composing a message to E-K he sends the following "Your right, we need to talk. HAS to be a secure location. Meet me on Striga 9pm tonight, near Stephanie, we'll discuss options." The signature block attached is that of the Gravartol armor.
"OK, now to get ready." Geoff opens the equipment rack holding the Gravartol armor and begins making modifications. Communications jammers, power and radio signal equiment aligned and checked. White noise generators added, program optimizations so the additional equipment doesn't overload the suit's power supplies. As he finishes Geoff shakes his head, the look on his face troubled. Checking the time he nods "Plenty of time to get there" he says softly "Now I just hope all this stuff works as advertised"
Strapping on the blue and black armor Geoff begins systems checks, running various combinations to guage the drain on the power supplies and resultant combat effectivness levels.
All that done he begins going back over the various things he knows abut Sing, "The answer is here, I know it." He says. Going into the Medcom system logs and downloading the last garbled code burst from Singulatarian's unit, Geoff begins an analasys of the received signal, looking for what he's not sure, but looking.
Dr. Beatrice Meru, acclaimed fund-raiser for Save The Future, Eliminate the Grey Goo, and various other apocolypse-prevention organizations, looked up from her desk. "Really? Isn't this all over the top? Superheroes holding a state funeral for-- Right, right. Yes, I know we've been over it. At least Hubert can take care of the details. Lawyers are good for yet one more thing." She runs her fingers through her shoulder-length red hair and shifts her weight back in the office chair, tilting back. She has her phone dial her lawyer's mobile, "Hubert, let me know if I'm being too impatient here, but have you heard from my husband's friends when they'll be bringing in the body? What? They're waiting to know when the funeral is." Her voice turns stern. "You said you would handle all of this for me." "Then do it." She ends the call and looks up. "You'd damn well better be." Then a smile breaks.
Tuesday, June 3rd, 2008. Boston, Massachusetts.
Dr. Beatrice Meru pulled the black veil down over her face. before she stepped out off the car at the Smithson Funeral Home. She'd already said goodbye -- long ago, it seemed now, but this was one more she had to get through, somehow. Her new assistant Jackson followed behind her.
It was going to be a closed casket funeral, but the body hadn't arrived yet. Apparently it was a hero tradition, to escort the body from Paragon City to the city of his final resting place on the day of.
People were arriving already. Friends. Colleagues. Important backers. Distant family. She leaned on Jackson's arm from time to time as she somberly greeting one and all. There would be no bawling on her part today. She was stronger than that, and everyone who knew her knew that. Even if that was the love of her life in that casket.
Brian Sampson arrived at the base solemnly on the appropriate morning. He was not in his traditional garb, or even his STORM uniform. instead he dressed in his formal Boston police Uniform and cap, with his Gold Cop harness over it. He waited quietly for the other two as he secured the truck.
Cara arrived at the base dressed in a tasteful, conservative dark grey dress. Her uniform was slung over one arm.
She saw Gold Cop and nodded, "I...I wasn't sure where to meet. I'm part of the escort."
She pointed to her uniform, "If this is required I'll wear it but I'd rather go as Cara, not Imitation. Be there as his friend not his colleague."
She took a deep breath and held on tight to her emotions. It was going to be a very long day.
At the crack of dawn, the alarm clock sounded.
MEEP MEEP MEEP MEEP
With his puffy eyelids still closed tight, the Elecric-Knight rolled over in his bed and reached to tap the snooze button.
MEEP MEEP MEEP MEEP
He forgot that he had disconnected the snooze button to prevent him from using that function.
Pulling himself into a sitting position, still in his bed and still with his eyes closed, he sent a feint electric signal into his alarm clock.
Running his hands through his hair, he drew a deep breath in the pleasant silence.
He slid to the edge of the bed, eyes half opened.
His mask and costume were lying on the floor.
Careless!
He usually took greater precautions to hide all evidence and connections between he and his masked alias... even in private.
Curse that unending sun in Ouroboros.
“I can’t believe I got to bed so late last night”
Still, he felt the energy coursing through his body.
He stood up and had a bounce in his step that he did not expect.
“Why do I feel… chipper?”
He reflected on the night before for a moment and then his shoulders sank.
“Especially on a morning like this” and he let out a heavy sigh.
He grabbed the telephone from the bedside table and began dialing the number for the Steel Canyon Cookes Electronics.
Knowing no one would be in yet, he called early so he could just leave a voice mail and avoid actually talking to his boss.
“Hey, this is Eric. I’m not going to be able to make it in today." He cleared his throat, "That cold seems to have gotten a lot worse.” He faked a slight cough and continued, “Tell Harvey… or Stacy… Whoever is on today… to leave all the repair jobs in the back bin and I’ll pick them up and work on them after hours. I’ll have it all done on time, so no worries, Mr. Harrison. Bye”.
He tossed the phone back onto the nightstand and walked across the room with a lighter step than he could account for at the moment.
After showering and cleaning up the clothes from the floor, he looked into the mirror.
Holding his tights in one hand and a set of plain dress clothes in the other, he raised and lowered them next to his solemn face, almost as though they were tipping on a balance scale within his mind.
Mask… or no mask? Colleague… or friend?
His eyes began to well up with tears. He hung both options on the towel rack, and then began to brush his teeth, quietly staring into the mirror.
The Electric-Knight walked into the Legion Base, dressed in a tight-fitted black suit, with his tights on underneath and his mask covering his face, holding a fresh copy of the Paragon Times.
He quietly sat down at the table and began gazing at the newspaper.
Bidding E-K and Imitation farewell, Geoff heads for the STORM maintenance bay. After loading the file he'd downloaded from the Medcom system into the mainframe he began a detailed analysis, discovering that, while all the data was there for a succesful Medcom request, it was scrambled and unrecogniseable.
He then sets out to duplicate the failure, using any and all destructive means at his disposal, energy weapons, machine guns, sniper rifles. He discovers that only a rare occurances causes the specific short circuit that duplicates that particular pattern.
Shaking his head to dispel the fatigue, it being well after 2AM by the time he's done, Geoff has one more task.
Bringing up the base communications system he sets a message to be delivered the next time Arrelin registers "Arrelin, I know you've been hunting Nemeis with recent developments. I need to talk to you, see if you've run across one individual in particular. Contact me as soon as you get this. I think it's critical." Before sending the message he considers, and sends a copy to the Professor as well. This one includes the following "We still need to talk Sir, and I think it's more important than ever." Knowing the funeral arraingements are for the next day, Geoff resolves himself to not getting any responses for several days.
Geoff shuts his terminal down and puts his armor in storage. Looking at the time he mutters and heads for the bunkroom rather than make the trip through town in the middle of the night. Nothing good ever happens on the streets after midnight.
Rel sat up, looking at his clock. It was 6:15 and the escort wasn't for several hours yet.
Despite that, he couldn't sleep. Recent events raced through his mind, like a movie on repeat. Meditation hadn't helped, neither had a drink. Not even beating the tar out of criminals had stopped the montage of images in his head.
He got out of bed and limped to the shower, turning the heat as high as it could, nearly scalding himself in the process.
Not like it would matter, he mused, all people will see is the illusion anyway...
After his shower he went to the closet and picked out his best suit. Nothing else would do for Greg. He smoothed it and put it in a carry-bag.
The Professor had given him the train and time but he decided he was going to go that one step further, he had located where the train would be kept and headed there instead.
Arriving at the train yard Rel carried his things to th train and began to look over the entire thing from top to bottom with every skill and spell he had. It was clean and he intended for it to stay that way. He placed his things in the passenger car and took his axe in hand. Snapping his fingers briefly he donned his Hunter's clothes and settled into a crouch upon the top of the train. Opening his sense to both magic and mundane he settled in to wait until the engineers came to bring the train to the station.
It would be several hours still, but he finally felt at peace, he was doing something to ensure his friend's final trip would be quiet.
The Engineers arrived a little early and that suited Rel just fine, he had been poised atop the train for almost 3 hours and he could use the excuse to move.
Snapping his fingers he donned his usual trench and slacks combo and pressed the base teleporter recall on his comm.
He arrived to see Cara and Brian sitting in the main room at the table, a somber look on their faces. Walking over he sat next to them both and smiled gently.
"You know that Greg wouldn't want to see us saddened by something. Let's not let the mother hen down now huh?"
He put a hand on each of their shoulders. Sharing what comfort her could give. Inside, he too, was grieving.
Brian turned to see Imitation in her civies. It was strange to see her in a dress and for a moment a smile crossed his face.
"No. You're fine. We all do we what we need to."
The Professor came out with the cryo-chamber, containing the body. Everyone fell silent as he secured it in the back of the truck.
"Be safe. I'll see you soon." The Professor said quietly. It was obvious he was tired, which was strange for a being who didn't generally sleep. He slipped back into the base leaving them to their task.
It didn't take long for them to arrive at the train yard. Brian watched the engineers make sure the chamber was secured before moving into the adjoining passenger car. Arrelin joined them moments later.
Brian looked up but couldn't think of words to respond with.
Cara settled into a seat on the train and turned to look out the tiny window.
The last funeral she'd attended had been her brother's and now the two events were getting jumbled up in her mind.
Geoff arrives at the base and heads straight for the computer terminal.
Pulling up a stored file he downloads a new one from his armor and begins comparing them.
Nodding he makes note of some things, copies both files off the supercomputer then makes a very thourough job of deleting all records of both files from the system, even going so far as to delete recent system backups and commencing a new one.
Putting the armor back into storage, Geoff heads out after stashing various devices in pockets. Someone listening would hear him say "Time to toast a departed friend" just before stepping onto the telepad to Steel Canyon.
Rel sat on the train, eyes closed and dozing lightly. It was going to be a long day and he would need to be alert when he got there. He also wasn't sure who was giving the eulogy but had been working something up in case it was needed. He just needed to finalize things...
He had always hated funerals. They were periodic reminders that he was a step apart from others, something not quite with the rest of the human race. That, and they depressed the hell out of him to lose those close to him.
He dozed for sometime, letting the world pass him by as it always did, as he and his friends raced towards Boston.
The day was a blur of events, he had met Beatrice and had exchanged his condolences, and given her his cryptic message as he had planned. Her brief smile had been worth every bit of it.
Friends and family had taken the job of Pall bearers and soon enough they were traveling through the city to the cemetery. At last, the casket was brought to the grave-site and was set.
It was touching to see so many pay homage to Greg. He had been a good man and the small pile of roses on top clearly showed that. As everyone stood there, Rel realized the need to say... something.
Rel stepped forward, looking around him and settling his eyes on the casket before him. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out.
"Friends," he began, his voice thick with emotion. "and family. We have gathered here today to lay to rest one of our own, Gregor Meru."
"I only knew Greg for a few months but I know he leaves a legacy already. His life was an amazing story, born in '77 and completeing high school and college at such a young age. He was truly a prodigy that would do great things for this world..." he trailed off a moment, composing himself before continuing.
"But this is merely the beginning for him. His legacy truly began in 2003 when he touched the life of Beatrice Roberts and together shared a truly blessed time. He worked tirelessly to keep the future safe through his work and to better the lives of others through technological development."
"Eventually he moved to Paragon, and his caring nature truly touched many lives, many of them gathered here today. I think we can all agree, our lives would be lessened were it not for our time with Greg."
He looked to the small gathering and slowly spread his arms, a sad smile on his face.
"To say that his legacy or story ends here would be an insult to the man that he was. His legacy is and always has been the care and protection of his friends, his family and those in need. Today, though we lay our friend's physical body to rest, I ask that we all take to heart what Greg has done for us, and continue that work in his stead. Let us continue that legacy in his name so that Greg will live on through our actions."
Rel lowers his hand and steps back, tears welling up in his eyes despite his best efforts.
Electric-Knight followed the procession as one of the fallen hero's former colleagues. He regularly exchanged glances, nods, handshakes, casual conversations and pats of encouragement with his friends. The entire day seemed surreal.
He slowly walked in the line of people offering their condolences to the grieving widow, who was holding up remarkably well. Gregor had confided in E-K a good deal about his concerns and feelings for his family, but he never quite expressed how beautiful and strong of a woman his wife was. Not feeling as though it was his place to thrust anything more onto the day's sad affairs, the Electric-Knight only managed to say, "I am so very sorry for your loss. He was a good man and a kind friend" as he softly took her hand. He did not hesitate long and kept the general speed of the line's procession going smoothly. When it came time and Arrelin gave his eulogy, Eric was deeply moved. Seeing the strong man facing this challenge, one that E-K thought must require more bravery from Arrelin than the magical champion had mustered for any single enemy he had seen him fight before, filled him with both an aching of sadness and pride to be working with such individuals in Paragon City.
Even with what Electric-Knight knew and believed... the experience shook him deeply. He wondered if he was grieving more so for the plight of people and their mortal frames in general, including his own mortality, than he was for the recent events involving his good friend, Gregor. Still, tears filled his eyes. While, this was the first point of the day that he thought he might feel more comfortable for having his mask on... He wondered if he actually would be more at ease having it off, so that the people he cared about could see his expression. So that he could share his feelings without using words.
During his handshake and pat on the back with Arrelin, he knew that the depth at which he intended to express himself was largely lost and likely seemed more like a cold gesture from a masked man.
When finally arriving back in Paragon City, Electric-Knight donned regular clothing, ducked into Cookes Electronics and brought home his work for the evening. Staying up until the wee hours of the night to finish all the electronic repairs, Eric kept to himself for the rest of the evening.
He arrived without a word, or any indication at all. He wasn't on the train, he didn't meet anyone at the base, he barely even acknowledged the death of a friend. He simply appeared in the back, unseen. He was still dressed in his BDU's, though without the armor or most of the ammo packs and gear.
As Rel spoke, Carlin simply looked at the casket without expression. He simply stood and watched, a remote detonator in hand...
Twenty One Gun Salutes... That was all that was in his mind...
---Two days after the confirmed death of Dr. Meru. Location: Nemesis outpost in the Shadow Shard---
"Sir, there appears to be a portal opening."
"What? Where?"
"In the sky, sir. The men are preparing for battle now."
"Who do we know that can open a large portal in mid-air like that, other than the Rikti?"
"None that we know of, and it does not appear to be Rikti. Warhulks have been deployed."
---One day following the death of Dr. Meru, Warburg---
" ...'nother launch..."
"Who is he anyway?"
"No clue. Recon teams have been trying to get a bead on him, been like chasing a ghost."
"That can't stop blowing stuff up..."
"Pretty much. Pop out, make an explosion, then when Arachnos are running around like chickens with their heads cut off, he vanishes again. Then boom, other side of the island, something is on fire, and more key-codes have been stolen."
"I wonder if he needs a side-kick..."
"We're not even sure he's a hero."
"Did i say I cared?"
"...I wonder if he needs a side-kick..."
The Longbow agents continued their banter as they looked on from the bow of the boat docked off the coast of the island, that was living up to it's name nicely. In the darkness, the only light was a red haze that engulfed the island, the sky blotted out by thick smoke. Only the white streak of a rocket pierced the veil above Warburg... It's payload unknown, but undoubtedly deadly.
---Back in the Shadow Shard---
"Oh [censored]"
"I always hated you, and I was the one who stole your sandwiches."
"I slept with your sister."
"So did I."
"...good man..."
---Back in the present---
As Rel finished his eulogy, three swift clicks could be hear in the back. Above the skies the first of 21 portals opened. The first of 21 Fake Nemesis robots fell through it, strapped snugly to a small, very flaming, rocket. Destined to never reach the ground, but provide a lovely view and maybe a few broken windows from the shockwave that was sure to follow...
And Carlin finally showed some emotion, now that people noticed him.
...a smile, and a tear...
