Metamorphoses - Libra Gaiden: Chapter 1 (J.A. Protivnik)
Oct 9, 2015 17:27:39 GMT -6
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Post by Nicholas Gray on Oct 9, 2015 17:27:39 GMT -6
(this is a direct continuation from the first part of Strike's Metamorphoses III, so you should probably read that. It's good.)
It had been an interesting time for Jason Anderson Protivnik.
He woke up to find the effects of the concussion he suffered gone. He found his father standing next to him with glowing yellow eyes.
And he found out about his powers.
He couldn’t lie, he thought he was dreaming. He thought it was all a fantasy, as his father explained to him what he was. What he had had inside of him since birth, his inheritance. The power of Libra.
But when it was shown to him, he couldn’t disbelieve. And when he did it himself, reached out to something across the room and force it to leave it’s place to come to him...he still couldn’t find a word to describe the feeling it put inside of him.
The time spent refining it, time that seemed to fly by. It all came so naturally to him.
He’d even realized his ultimate power.
-
When he went to a convenience store to get some snacks for himself and Jennifer, he saw it on the clerk. It just seemed like something on their face at first, and he ignored it to start with as he stood in line. But a stray thought, wondering what that face would look without it, made it move. It fluttered, like paper. He was confused, and entranced. With a thought, he could move it, as easy as any object, and yet no one reacted to it.
Only he could see it.
Despite the danger in using his powers where someone could see his eyes, he did it regardless. He moved the page as much as he could. And it opened their face.
It was like a book, opening from the left side of their face. He just stared at the open book the cashier’s face had become, until he was the one at the counter. He took a quick look around the store to make sure they were alone before freezing the clerk’s limbs. He could see the fear in the man’s eyes as he suddenly found himself unable to move, memories of his father warning him against things like this flooding into his head only for him to toss them aside. He was too curious.
As he looked at the pages, he took in everything they showed him.
It was everything.
Memories, experiences, feelings. Stray thoughts that no person remembers. Everything about this man, he could read. It was so much more than what he could get otherwise.
When he read a mind the “normal” way, it was so easy to grab surface thoughts. Digging deeper could be done, but the deeper and deeper you tried to go the harder it was. It was such a strain.
But with this there was no effort needed. A thought flipped the book to whatever deepest thing he wanted. No matter how buried, no matter how protected, it all came with a thought and a flip of the page.
He laughed.
And then he finally took a moment to realize just what he was doing.
He was holding a terrified clerk essentially hostage, blatantly showing off his power, in a convenience store full of cameras, where anyone could walk in at any time.
He was an idiot.
He cursed himself, and shut the book, and tried to think of a solution to this.
And he had a thought.
It was just a stray thought, but it fascinated him.
He reopened the man’s book and flipped it to the most recent pages, detailing the terror and confusion he felt towards the man with the glowing yellow eyes who held his body hostage.
He gripped those pages with his mind and, with a thought, tore them from the book, as he released the hold he had on the man’s body.
The clerk’s look of fear and confusion instantly disappeared, replaced with the same smile he greeted Jason with before he gripped him with his power. Jason bought what he came there to get, like none of this had happened. He started to turn and leave, but stopped.
Another stray thought.
He turned, making up an excuse about needing some cigarettes. And as the clerk reached up above himself to grab them, Jason opened the clerk’s book again. And this time, he reached down to the newest page.
And he wrote.
And the clerk immediately dropped the pack of cigarettes and went into the office. And Jason walked out, grinning from ear to ear.
He felt strong. He felt powerful. He felt like with a thought, he could change the world.
He realized that everything else was just a dressing. It was there to augment himself to the point where he could tap into this.
This, the true power of Libra.
--
He was filled with such confidence that he readily accepted the invitation to talk with Chris Strike, despite all his father’s warnings about how he would try to steal his power. He had a power Strike didn’t know about, that he wasn’t even certain his father knew about. He was more than ready.
And he proved it in the fight that followed.
He didn’t care why Strike challenged him, just focused on beating him. And he did. He beat the EXODUS Pro world champion in a fist fight, all thanks to what he could do. All he had to do was open the “book” of Strike, and he would see his next move written just before it was done. He ducked, he dodged, he weaved, and he hit him.
It was so satisfying.
And then the question from Strike. And he was so confident, the idea of just telling him it all came so easily. It felt right.
He was an idiot.
Strike made him tell, used his own power against him.
It made him angry. Angry enough that he’d already decided that once Strike and Ryoma had told him whatever it was they needed to say to him, he was going to give them the standard Protivnik treatment.
But he didn’t get the chance.
Because now there was a man with a gun calling himself his uncle.
He wasn’t happy about that.
--
Jason expression shifted into a snarl, as his eyes changed to the shining yellow glow of his powers activating.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: I don’t know who the hell you are, but you’re no Uncle of mine.
With only the slightest twitch when his eyes changed, Alexander fearlessly reached to his hip and drew the pistol. Jason’s attention was drawn to it, noting how odd it was. There was a green light on the handle, and instead of ending where the magazine inserts was a thick tube that seemed to connect into his right pantsleg. This moment of taking it in kept him from doing anything, and let Alexander take action. He held up the pistol to his mouth and spoke.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: EX.
There was a sliding sound, not from the gun but his leg, and the light on the handle changed to red. He held up the pistol for them to see.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: I’ve switched my weapon to explosive rounds. They are very effective, but unstable. Too violent a movement when they’re primed could make things go very poorly.
He looked Jason right in the eye.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: In this enclosed a space, that would be very bad for us all, correct?
Jason Anderson Protivnik: I can save myself.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: Are you certain?
He scowled, insulted, ready to throw him into a wall and show him who was certain.
But...he’d already been overconfident once that day.
His eyes changed back to normal. Alexander nodded a thanks, and reholstered the gun.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: Thank you. Now we can talk.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: Go fuck yourself.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: Well, you have the familiar attitude…
Jason just looked more annoyed.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: Like I said, my father doesn’t have any siblings. So I don’t know who you are, but you ain’t no family of mine.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: Actually, that’s why I’m here, and not waiting on a rooftop a mile away with my rifle, which was my original plan before this came up.
All eyes in the room widen.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: What the fuck…
Doktor Alexander Adversary: You’ll understand in a few moments...you see, while the attack on you by that Dysart woman is unfortunate, it gave us a small present we did not have a hand on before.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: What’s that?
Doktor Alexander Adversary: A blood sample. You left plenty of your blood after those chairshots.
Jason looked confused, while Strike and Ryoma shared a look.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: My brother Cyril collected the samples while looking you over. He wanted to get a better understanding of what was going on with you. Even with the...mystical aspect of it, he thought there was an answer in the blood. In science.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: ...and?
Alexander lets out a sigh.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: He did not find any answers about your power from the tests he did. But he found something far more disturbing.
He paused a moment.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: I would say unexpected, but this is the kind of thing I expect from that man.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: What the hell are you on about?!
Alexander seems a bit hesitant, if just for a moment.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: You know what a paternity test is, correct?
Jason just seemed more confused.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: Yeah, of course. What, you have my father on record too?
Alexander shook his head.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: No need. Our family is not related by...normal means. His DNA is Cyril’s DNA is my DNA.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: What the fuck...even if I believe that, what the HELL is the point of it!?
Alexander reaches into his coat, removing a manilla folder. He holds it up.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: This is the result of the two paternity tests that were performed. One was against Cyril, and after that we did another with mine. We wanted to be sure.
Ryusei tilted his head.
Ryusei Arino: Sure of...what?
Doktor Alexander Adversary: What the results say. Jason, according to both of these tests, with 100% certainty...
A small pause, and when he continues, his tone has changed. Almost apologetic.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: You have no genetic markers that match the Adversary family. I’m sorry. I don’t know who you are...but you are not the son of Grant Adversary.
Silence reigned.
Ryoma, Ryusei, and Strike looked among themselves, all of them surprised. And Jason...Jason looked like his puppy had been shot.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: W-what…
He shakes his head repeatedly, too fast.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: That’s not true! I don’t care what fake tests you have, you’re lying to me!
Doktor Alexander Adversary: No. You need to hear the truth, Jason. Grant Protivnik is a lie. He is no businessman, he is no good man, he is a madman, he is a murderer!
Jason Anderson Protivnik: YOU HAVE NO PROOF!
Doktor Alexander Adversary: Don’t I?!
The sudden anger in his tone seemed to surprise even Jason, as Alexander threw the folder down before reaching up to his face. One hand gripped the goggles he wore, while the other hooked a finger into the medical mask he wore. Both hands pulled at once, yanking the goggles and mask from his face at once.
Everyone went silent.
Whether it was his eyes, all mechanical except for his original yellow irises preserved in the center, constantly widening and contracting like cameras.
Or what passed as his jaw, the metal hammered into the shape of one with basic teeth imprinting, not perfectly attached, flopping just a bit as it moved.
Whichever one, seeing it made them all turn silent. He held up his right hand and flexed the fingers, each one squeaking mechanically as he rapidly moved them around, just giving them an idea of how much of him was artificial.
It was Jason that finally spoke.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: What the fuck are you?
Doktor Alexander Adversary: I’m the remains your “father” left behind.
Jason scowled.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: My father did not do this!
Doktor Alexander Adversary: Then why don’t you see for yourself?
He took two steps closer to Jason, Jason taking a step back. Alexander tapped his metal finger against the side of his head.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: I’m deactivating every defense I’ve developed and implanted into myself since Grant. I don’t even know if they work, but now you have nothing stopping you. Open my “book,” Jason, and find out for yourself.
Jason’s scowl slowly fades, turning almost into that cocky look he was so use to having on his face.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: Fine. I’ll prove you wrong. Open up.
His eyes turned a bright, glowing yellow as he activated his ability, and he took note of the subtle twitch Alexander did when he saw that. He began to open the book from Alexander’s face, taking note how the bottom of each page was burnt. And there were a lot of pages, more than anyone he’d opened yet.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: So much here...how old are you?
Doktor Alexander Adversary: You wouldn’t believe me. If you need a keyword to help you…
A hesitation. A word he clearly didn’t want to say.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: ...Aruba.
Jason held that word in his mind as he focused on the book, and it flipped to where that word was strongest. And he couldn’t begin to understand what he was looking at. Before, when he opened minds like a book, they showed themselves as just pages. Average, normal pages, printed on like any other.
But these weren't like that. They were covered in pencil, ink, and some other liquid he wasn’t sure of. Pages burnt, cut through, wrinkled like a weight had been dropped on them.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: What…
He tried to reach forward with his mind, trying to “place” a hand against the pages.
And suddenly he wasn’t standing in a room in Ryoma Arino’s house anymore.
He laid on his stomach on cold tiles, the air thick and hot.
His chest hurt awfully with this burning sensation, like something hot had been shot into his chest and out through his back. A shaky hand to his chest revealed a hole surrounded by the burnt edges of his shirt. He could hear faint chuckling, two sets.
And there was an immense shadow around him.
He looked up, and saw metal. Some kind of machine, he didn’t know the function or need, hung suspended in the air above him.
He stared at it, and he could feel fear. He knew what was coming. There was no avoiding it, his limbs barely responded to his commands.
He was going to die.
He looked forward now, and found the man who would kill him.
Dressed in a lab coat, with the mask and goggles discarded, he looked like the man whose mind he was just opening, without the ghastly modifications. Before today, he had never seen that face in his life.
But he knew those eyes.
Those eyes that glowed a bright, shining yellow.
The eyes of Libra.
The machine dropped.
He screamed out in a voice that wasn’t his, as the weight crashed down onto him. He felt a leg splinter, an organ squish, the crack of so many bones.
The machine was lifted.
The machine was dropped.
His spine snapped near the bottom. His left lung burst.
The machine was lifted.
The machine was dropped.
The machine was lifted.
The machine was dropped.
And the whole time he heard the laughter of his father.
Suddenly he was back in Arino’s home. He stumbled backwards, breaking the connection with the mechanical man, and dropped to one knee. He gulped down breath after breath, one hand pressed to his forehead. There was a sound and he wasn’t sure what it was. He realized it was himself, sobbing.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: I-it...can’t be true...can’t be...my father’s...he’s...he’s not…
Another sob.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: He’s been helping me! Making me better! I know so much about this p-power thanks to him!
The three men watching this look amongst themselves and, finally, Strike steps out, clearing his throat. Jason looks to him.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: What?!
Chris Strike: That was what we were going to tell you before someone-
He glares daggers at Alexander but if that has any effect on the cyborg, it isn’t shown.
Chris Strike: Got in the way. Libra, do you know about Oshima?
Jason Anderson Protivnik: He’s the fucking...fortune teller guy who ends some shows. Why?
Chris Strike: Do you believe him?
Jason shrugs.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: Don’t think he’s been wrong yet...why? The fuck he’s got to do with...with this?
Chris Strike: Simple. Me and Aquarius drove a sword through that bastard’s shoulder and forced him to give us some information on you we didn’t have.
He grinned at the memory. Jason just frowned.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: What else could there be…
Chris Strike: Tell me this, kid. Your dad take a lot of blood samples?
Alexander raised an eyebrow, while Anderson just looked confused.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: Of course he does. He’s been trying to discover why I get those headaches...they were because of Libra.
Chris Strike: No. They’re because of him.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: ..what?
Strike sighed.
Chris Strike: Look, I wasn’t happy to find this out either. But according to that bastard Oshima...if you inject yourself with the blood of one of us, you temporarily take those powers. Your headaches were your whatever the hell he is taking your power.
Both Jason and Alexander’s eyes widen. Alexander snaps his fingers.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: That’s it! We wondered what the explanation was for Grant’s sudden power increase, he hadn’t managed to unlock any higher psychic powers in his decades of work and all of a sudden he was a powerhouse! So, then...
He pauses, as the realization hits him.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: He didn’t exhibit those powers until that night in Aruba, meaning...he only found Jason in the months before that. Because eight months prior to THAT, the family met and he was still at that weak level.
Chris Strike: And when did all that happen?
Doktor Alexander Adversary: 12 years ago.
Jason listens to all of this, expression slowly getting more and more exasperated, his breathing continuing to pick up. Alexander takes a step towards him.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: Jason, please. What do you remember of 12 years ago?
Jason Anderson Protivnik: We-we...we moved to Yuma, and...no, no, that’s not right we already lived there, that was the year he opened the second busines-no what he’s a Doctor what business that’s-!
He yelled suddenly, as a tremendous pain shoots through his head, right at the top of his skull. He puts both hands on his head as if that would help relieve it, screaming out for moments as the pain lasts, until it slowly fades away, leaving Jason laying on the floor on his side, gulping down air.
Chris Strike: What the fuck?
Alexander sighed, looking down sadly at Jason.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: He’s trying to access a memory that’s been altered. We’ve observed similar things when it’s done by surgery, I suppose the same counts for psychic powers.
Jason finally looked up at them.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: s-so it’s true…
Doktor Alexander Adversary: I’m afraid so. I’m sorry.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: In that case…
He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, finally standing back on his feet. Alex noted the difference between when he entered and now. When he entered he saw an angry, confident young man. Now...he had flashbacks of the first time he looked into a mirror, after being rebuilt. All fear and sorrow and confusion.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: Who am I? W-where’s my family?
Doktor Alexander Adversary: ...I’m sorry, Jason, I really don’t know. We’ve had a computer searching databases, but so far, no matches. And even if we did…
A pause, as he struggled with the desire to not say what he needed to. But it was too unfair to the boy to lie.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: Given his history...I don’t know if any of your family, whoever they are, are alive.
Jason fell to one knee, suddenly.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: ...because of me.
Ryusei Arino: Hey, no…
Compassionate Ryusei took a step forward, reaching a hand out to try and put it on Jason’s shoulder, to reassure him. Jason flinched away from it, looking at him with sudden venom in his eyes.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: Don’t touch me. Leave me alone.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: Jason, listen…
He stepped forward, placing a cold metal hand onto the boy’s shoulder. His face tried to take on the expression of concern, but it didn’t work with the state of his face. Jason looked at the hand, then at him.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: I said…
His eyes flashed yellow suddenly, and none of them were quick enough to react.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: Don’t touch me!
They were thrown back by some invisible force. The four men slammed into the walls of the room, sliding down onto the floor. Jason stood there, breathing deeply, eyes darting from one to the other as they recovered.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: Stay the hell away from me. STAY AWAY!
And he ran. He slammed into the door and threw it open, disappearing through the threshold. By the time they had gotten to their feet, he was long gone. Ryusei looked at Alexander, eyes suddenly widening as he realized something.
Ryusei Arino: Your...bullets. Volatile, you said.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: Oh, right, that whole business about the explosivo rounds going off randomly. I lied.
He let out a sigh as he looked at the door Jason left through.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: Well. That went better than I expected it to.
Strike grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him to glare into his eyes.
Chris Strike: How dare you get in my way. Do you know what you did? He was ready to listen to me!
Alex looked like he’d been asked an obvious question.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: I told the poor boy what he deserved to know. I frankly don’t care about what you were up to.
Chris Strike: You missed one very important detail, you mechanical piece of shit. If I don’t get every one of these Marks gathered soon, it’ll be the big end. And one of the most elusive ones just ran off because someone had to tell him every single awful thing at once.
Alex let out a long sigh.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: Well then. I suppose we’ll all have to hope that, with all this information, Jason will make the right choice.
Chris Strike: Yeah, and what if he doesn’t, now that his head’s all fucked up?
He’s briefly silent. For a moment he looks down at the gun holstered at his hip, before looking at the doorway Anderson disappeared through.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: I’ll do what I have to.
--
He wasn’t sure how long he ran for.
After getting through the door he took off down a road, taking any random turn and twist he could, trying desperately to escape what he’d found out. But as much as he tried, it was still at the front of his mind. And, finally, after starting to go down an alley, he couldn’t find the strength anymore. Slumping down against a wall, he had to take in what had happened.
His father wasn’t his father.
His father was a murderer.
He’d experienced being murdered by his father.
The gift he was so proud of was a curse that his father had been regularly stealing from him.
And that whoever his real family was, they might all be dead.
All because of his status as Libra.
Hands came up to clutch at his head, as he tried so desperately to make sense of what was happening to him, this hell his mind was turning into. Any attempt to try and remember anything beyond his father causing so much pain. He began to curl up against the wall, hands still clutching his head, as he muttered to himself.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: Ohgodohgodohgod….
He was so wrapped up in what was going on in his head, he never noticed what was above him.
On a fire escape over him, sat a man. This man wore a nice suit, nice shoes, and would look not a bit out of place in a business meeting.
And he had no face.
Or, rather, he wore a mask that was entirely featureless. Just a hard, black material attached to his face. Shards coming from the edge of the mask dug into the back of his head to attach the mask. No nose holes, no mouth opening, no eyeholes.
Despite that he looked down at Anderson just fine.
The Faceless Man: How in-ter-est-ing…
And despite having no face, his tone made it clear that there was a grin hidden somewhere behind that mask.
The Faceless Man: Will this begin the “end of the world”, or the “finale” of Libra?
A laugh, as he looks up at the sky, at something only his eyes can see.
The Faceless Man: And will he fall to you or to me, you bastard?
And as he asked that, down below him, Jason Anderson Protivnik continued to lose himself.
It had been an interesting time for Jason Anderson Protivnik.
He woke up to find the effects of the concussion he suffered gone. He found his father standing next to him with glowing yellow eyes.
And he found out about his powers.
He couldn’t lie, he thought he was dreaming. He thought it was all a fantasy, as his father explained to him what he was. What he had had inside of him since birth, his inheritance. The power of Libra.
But when it was shown to him, he couldn’t disbelieve. And when he did it himself, reached out to something across the room and force it to leave it’s place to come to him...he still couldn’t find a word to describe the feeling it put inside of him.
The time spent refining it, time that seemed to fly by. It all came so naturally to him.
He’d even realized his ultimate power.
-
When he went to a convenience store to get some snacks for himself and Jennifer, he saw it on the clerk. It just seemed like something on their face at first, and he ignored it to start with as he stood in line. But a stray thought, wondering what that face would look without it, made it move. It fluttered, like paper. He was confused, and entranced. With a thought, he could move it, as easy as any object, and yet no one reacted to it.
Only he could see it.
Despite the danger in using his powers where someone could see his eyes, he did it regardless. He moved the page as much as he could. And it opened their face.
It was like a book, opening from the left side of their face. He just stared at the open book the cashier’s face had become, until he was the one at the counter. He took a quick look around the store to make sure they were alone before freezing the clerk’s limbs. He could see the fear in the man’s eyes as he suddenly found himself unable to move, memories of his father warning him against things like this flooding into his head only for him to toss them aside. He was too curious.
As he looked at the pages, he took in everything they showed him.
It was everything.
Memories, experiences, feelings. Stray thoughts that no person remembers. Everything about this man, he could read. It was so much more than what he could get otherwise.
When he read a mind the “normal” way, it was so easy to grab surface thoughts. Digging deeper could be done, but the deeper and deeper you tried to go the harder it was. It was such a strain.
But with this there was no effort needed. A thought flipped the book to whatever deepest thing he wanted. No matter how buried, no matter how protected, it all came with a thought and a flip of the page.
He laughed.
And then he finally took a moment to realize just what he was doing.
He was holding a terrified clerk essentially hostage, blatantly showing off his power, in a convenience store full of cameras, where anyone could walk in at any time.
He was an idiot.
He cursed himself, and shut the book, and tried to think of a solution to this.
And he had a thought.
It was just a stray thought, but it fascinated him.
He reopened the man’s book and flipped it to the most recent pages, detailing the terror and confusion he felt towards the man with the glowing yellow eyes who held his body hostage.
He gripped those pages with his mind and, with a thought, tore them from the book, as he released the hold he had on the man’s body.
The clerk’s look of fear and confusion instantly disappeared, replaced with the same smile he greeted Jason with before he gripped him with his power. Jason bought what he came there to get, like none of this had happened. He started to turn and leave, but stopped.
Another stray thought.
He turned, making up an excuse about needing some cigarettes. And as the clerk reached up above himself to grab them, Jason opened the clerk’s book again. And this time, he reached down to the newest page.
And he wrote.
“Delete the entire day’s worth of security footage, forget you did it.”
And the clerk immediately dropped the pack of cigarettes and went into the office. And Jason walked out, grinning from ear to ear.
He felt strong. He felt powerful. He felt like with a thought, he could change the world.
He realized that everything else was just a dressing. It was there to augment himself to the point where he could tap into this.
This, the true power of Libra.
--
He was filled with such confidence that he readily accepted the invitation to talk with Chris Strike, despite all his father’s warnings about how he would try to steal his power. He had a power Strike didn’t know about, that he wasn’t even certain his father knew about. He was more than ready.
And he proved it in the fight that followed.
He didn’t care why Strike challenged him, just focused on beating him. And he did. He beat the EXODUS Pro world champion in a fist fight, all thanks to what he could do. All he had to do was open the “book” of Strike, and he would see his next move written just before it was done. He ducked, he dodged, he weaved, and he hit him.
It was so satisfying.
And then the question from Strike. And he was so confident, the idea of just telling him it all came so easily. It felt right.
He was an idiot.
Strike made him tell, used his own power against him.
It made him angry. Angry enough that he’d already decided that once Strike and Ryoma had told him whatever it was they needed to say to him, he was going to give them the standard Protivnik treatment.
But he didn’t get the chance.
Because now there was a man with a gun calling himself his uncle.
He wasn’t happy about that.
--
“I need to have a “talk” with my nephew.”
Jason expression shifted into a snarl, as his eyes changed to the shining yellow glow of his powers activating.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: I don’t know who the hell you are, but you’re no Uncle of mine.
With only the slightest twitch when his eyes changed, Alexander fearlessly reached to his hip and drew the pistol. Jason’s attention was drawn to it, noting how odd it was. There was a green light on the handle, and instead of ending where the magazine inserts was a thick tube that seemed to connect into his right pantsleg. This moment of taking it in kept him from doing anything, and let Alexander take action. He held up the pistol to his mouth and spoke.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: EX.
There was a sliding sound, not from the gun but his leg, and the light on the handle changed to red. He held up the pistol for them to see.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: I’ve switched my weapon to explosive rounds. They are very effective, but unstable. Too violent a movement when they’re primed could make things go very poorly.
He looked Jason right in the eye.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: In this enclosed a space, that would be very bad for us all, correct?
Jason Anderson Protivnik: I can save myself.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: Are you certain?
He scowled, insulted, ready to throw him into a wall and show him who was certain.
But...he’d already been overconfident once that day.
His eyes changed back to normal. Alexander nodded a thanks, and reholstered the gun.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: Thank you. Now we can talk.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: Go fuck yourself.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: Well, you have the familiar attitude…
Jason just looked more annoyed.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: Like I said, my father doesn’t have any siblings. So I don’t know who you are, but you ain’t no family of mine.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: Actually, that’s why I’m here, and not waiting on a rooftop a mile away with my rifle, which was my original plan before this came up.
All eyes in the room widen.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: What the fuck…
Doktor Alexander Adversary: You’ll understand in a few moments...you see, while the attack on you by that Dysart woman is unfortunate, it gave us a small present we did not have a hand on before.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: What’s that?
Doktor Alexander Adversary: A blood sample. You left plenty of your blood after those chairshots.
Jason looked confused, while Strike and Ryoma shared a look.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: My brother Cyril collected the samples while looking you over. He wanted to get a better understanding of what was going on with you. Even with the...mystical aspect of it, he thought there was an answer in the blood. In science.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: ...and?
Alexander lets out a sigh.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: He did not find any answers about your power from the tests he did. But he found something far more disturbing.
He paused a moment.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: I would say unexpected, but this is the kind of thing I expect from that man.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: What the hell are you on about?!
Alexander seems a bit hesitant, if just for a moment.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: You know what a paternity test is, correct?
Jason just seemed more confused.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: Yeah, of course. What, you have my father on record too?
Alexander shook his head.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: No need. Our family is not related by...normal means. His DNA is Cyril’s DNA is my DNA.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: What the fuck...even if I believe that, what the HELL is the point of it!?
Alexander reaches into his coat, removing a manilla folder. He holds it up.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: This is the result of the two paternity tests that were performed. One was against Cyril, and after that we did another with mine. We wanted to be sure.
Ryusei tilted his head.
Ryusei Arino: Sure of...what?
Doktor Alexander Adversary: What the results say. Jason, according to both of these tests, with 100% certainty...
A small pause, and when he continues, his tone has changed. Almost apologetic.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: You have no genetic markers that match the Adversary family. I’m sorry. I don’t know who you are...but you are not the son of Grant Adversary.
Silence reigned.
Ryoma, Ryusei, and Strike looked among themselves, all of them surprised. And Jason...Jason looked like his puppy had been shot.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: W-what…
He shakes his head repeatedly, too fast.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: That’s not true! I don’t care what fake tests you have, you’re lying to me!
Doktor Alexander Adversary: No. You need to hear the truth, Jason. Grant Protivnik is a lie. He is no businessman, he is no good man, he is a madman, he is a murderer!
Jason Anderson Protivnik: YOU HAVE NO PROOF!
Doktor Alexander Adversary: Don’t I?!
The sudden anger in his tone seemed to surprise even Jason, as Alexander threw the folder down before reaching up to his face. One hand gripped the goggles he wore, while the other hooked a finger into the medical mask he wore. Both hands pulled at once, yanking the goggles and mask from his face at once.
Everyone went silent.
Whether it was his eyes, all mechanical except for his original yellow irises preserved in the center, constantly widening and contracting like cameras.
Or what passed as his jaw, the metal hammered into the shape of one with basic teeth imprinting, not perfectly attached, flopping just a bit as it moved.
Whichever one, seeing it made them all turn silent. He held up his right hand and flexed the fingers, each one squeaking mechanically as he rapidly moved them around, just giving them an idea of how much of him was artificial.
It was Jason that finally spoke.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: What the fuck are you?
Doktor Alexander Adversary: I’m the remains your “father” left behind.
Jason scowled.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: My father did not do this!
Doktor Alexander Adversary: Then why don’t you see for yourself?
He took two steps closer to Jason, Jason taking a step back. Alexander tapped his metal finger against the side of his head.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: I’m deactivating every defense I’ve developed and implanted into myself since Grant. I don’t even know if they work, but now you have nothing stopping you. Open my “book,” Jason, and find out for yourself.
Jason’s scowl slowly fades, turning almost into that cocky look he was so use to having on his face.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: Fine. I’ll prove you wrong. Open up.
His eyes turned a bright, glowing yellow as he activated his ability, and he took note of the subtle twitch Alexander did when he saw that. He began to open the book from Alexander’s face, taking note how the bottom of each page was burnt. And there were a lot of pages, more than anyone he’d opened yet.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: So much here...how old are you?
Doktor Alexander Adversary: You wouldn’t believe me. If you need a keyword to help you…
A hesitation. A word he clearly didn’t want to say.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: ...Aruba.
Jason held that word in his mind as he focused on the book, and it flipped to where that word was strongest. And he couldn’t begin to understand what he was looking at. Before, when he opened minds like a book, they showed themselves as just pages. Average, normal pages, printed on like any other.
But these weren't like that. They were covered in pencil, ink, and some other liquid he wasn’t sure of. Pages burnt, cut through, wrinkled like a weight had been dropped on them.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: What…
He tried to reach forward with his mind, trying to “place” a hand against the pages.
And suddenly he wasn’t standing in a room in Ryoma Arino’s house anymore.
He laid on his stomach on cold tiles, the air thick and hot.
His chest hurt awfully with this burning sensation, like something hot had been shot into his chest and out through his back. A shaky hand to his chest revealed a hole surrounded by the burnt edges of his shirt. He could hear faint chuckling, two sets.
And there was an immense shadow around him.
He looked up, and saw metal. Some kind of machine, he didn’t know the function or need, hung suspended in the air above him.
He stared at it, and he could feel fear. He knew what was coming. There was no avoiding it, his limbs barely responded to his commands.
He was going to die.
He looked forward now, and found the man who would kill him.
Dressed in a lab coat, with the mask and goggles discarded, he looked like the man whose mind he was just opening, without the ghastly modifications. Before today, he had never seen that face in his life.
But he knew those eyes.
Those eyes that glowed a bright, shining yellow.
The eyes of Libra.
The machine dropped.
He screamed out in a voice that wasn’t his, as the weight crashed down onto him. He felt a leg splinter, an organ squish, the crack of so many bones.
The machine was lifted.
The machine was dropped.
His spine snapped near the bottom. His left lung burst.
The machine was lifted.
The machine was dropped.
The machine was lifted.
The machine was dropped.
And the whole time he heard the laughter of his father.
Suddenly he was back in Arino’s home. He stumbled backwards, breaking the connection with the mechanical man, and dropped to one knee. He gulped down breath after breath, one hand pressed to his forehead. There was a sound and he wasn’t sure what it was. He realized it was himself, sobbing.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: I-it...can’t be true...can’t be...my father’s...he’s...he’s not…
Another sob.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: He’s been helping me! Making me better! I know so much about this p-power thanks to him!
The three men watching this look amongst themselves and, finally, Strike steps out, clearing his throat. Jason looks to him.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: What?!
Chris Strike: That was what we were going to tell you before someone-
He glares daggers at Alexander but if that has any effect on the cyborg, it isn’t shown.
Chris Strike: Got in the way. Libra, do you know about Oshima?
Jason Anderson Protivnik: He’s the fucking...fortune teller guy who ends some shows. Why?
Chris Strike: Do you believe him?
Jason shrugs.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: Don’t think he’s been wrong yet...why? The fuck he’s got to do with...with this?
Chris Strike: Simple. Me and Aquarius drove a sword through that bastard’s shoulder and forced him to give us some information on you we didn’t have.
He grinned at the memory. Jason just frowned.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: What else could there be…
Chris Strike: Tell me this, kid. Your dad take a lot of blood samples?
Alexander raised an eyebrow, while Anderson just looked confused.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: Of course he does. He’s been trying to discover why I get those headaches...they were because of Libra.
Chris Strike: No. They’re because of him.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: ..what?
Strike sighed.
Chris Strike: Look, I wasn’t happy to find this out either. But according to that bastard Oshima...if you inject yourself with the blood of one of us, you temporarily take those powers. Your headaches were your whatever the hell he is taking your power.
Both Jason and Alexander’s eyes widen. Alexander snaps his fingers.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: That’s it! We wondered what the explanation was for Grant’s sudden power increase, he hadn’t managed to unlock any higher psychic powers in his decades of work and all of a sudden he was a powerhouse! So, then...
He pauses, as the realization hits him.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: He didn’t exhibit those powers until that night in Aruba, meaning...he only found Jason in the months before that. Because eight months prior to THAT, the family met and he was still at that weak level.
Chris Strike: And when did all that happen?
Doktor Alexander Adversary: 12 years ago.
Jason listens to all of this, expression slowly getting more and more exasperated, his breathing continuing to pick up. Alexander takes a step towards him.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: Jason, please. What do you remember of 12 years ago?
Jason Anderson Protivnik: We-we...we moved to Yuma, and...no, no, that’s not right we already lived there, that was the year he opened the second busines-no what he’s a Doctor what business that’s-!
He yelled suddenly, as a tremendous pain shoots through his head, right at the top of his skull. He puts both hands on his head as if that would help relieve it, screaming out for moments as the pain lasts, until it slowly fades away, leaving Jason laying on the floor on his side, gulping down air.
Chris Strike: What the fuck?
Alexander sighed, looking down sadly at Jason.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: He’s trying to access a memory that’s been altered. We’ve observed similar things when it’s done by surgery, I suppose the same counts for psychic powers.
Jason finally looked up at them.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: s-so it’s true…
Doktor Alexander Adversary: I’m afraid so. I’m sorry.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: In that case…
He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, finally standing back on his feet. Alex noted the difference between when he entered and now. When he entered he saw an angry, confident young man. Now...he had flashbacks of the first time he looked into a mirror, after being rebuilt. All fear and sorrow and confusion.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: Who am I? W-where’s my family?
Doktor Alexander Adversary: ...I’m sorry, Jason, I really don’t know. We’ve had a computer searching databases, but so far, no matches. And even if we did…
A pause, as he struggled with the desire to not say what he needed to. But it was too unfair to the boy to lie.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: Given his history...I don’t know if any of your family, whoever they are, are alive.
Jason fell to one knee, suddenly.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: ...because of me.
Ryusei Arino: Hey, no…
Compassionate Ryusei took a step forward, reaching a hand out to try and put it on Jason’s shoulder, to reassure him. Jason flinched away from it, looking at him with sudden venom in his eyes.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: Don’t touch me. Leave me alone.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: Jason, listen…
He stepped forward, placing a cold metal hand onto the boy’s shoulder. His face tried to take on the expression of concern, but it didn’t work with the state of his face. Jason looked at the hand, then at him.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: I said…
His eyes flashed yellow suddenly, and none of them were quick enough to react.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: Don’t touch me!
They were thrown back by some invisible force. The four men slammed into the walls of the room, sliding down onto the floor. Jason stood there, breathing deeply, eyes darting from one to the other as they recovered.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: Stay the hell away from me. STAY AWAY!
And he ran. He slammed into the door and threw it open, disappearing through the threshold. By the time they had gotten to their feet, he was long gone. Ryusei looked at Alexander, eyes suddenly widening as he realized something.
Ryusei Arino: Your...bullets. Volatile, you said.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: Oh, right, that whole business about the explosivo rounds going off randomly. I lied.
He let out a sigh as he looked at the door Jason left through.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: Well. That went better than I expected it to.
Strike grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him to glare into his eyes.
Chris Strike: How dare you get in my way. Do you know what you did? He was ready to listen to me!
Alex looked like he’d been asked an obvious question.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: I told the poor boy what he deserved to know. I frankly don’t care about what you were up to.
Chris Strike: You missed one very important detail, you mechanical piece of shit. If I don’t get every one of these Marks gathered soon, it’ll be the big end. And one of the most elusive ones just ran off because someone had to tell him every single awful thing at once.
Alex let out a long sigh.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: Well then. I suppose we’ll all have to hope that, with all this information, Jason will make the right choice.
Chris Strike: Yeah, and what if he doesn’t, now that his head’s all fucked up?
He’s briefly silent. For a moment he looks down at the gun holstered at his hip, before looking at the doorway Anderson disappeared through.
Doktor Alexander Adversary: I’ll do what I have to.
--
He wasn’t sure how long he ran for.
After getting through the door he took off down a road, taking any random turn and twist he could, trying desperately to escape what he’d found out. But as much as he tried, it was still at the front of his mind. And, finally, after starting to go down an alley, he couldn’t find the strength anymore. Slumping down against a wall, he had to take in what had happened.
His father wasn’t his father.
His father was a murderer.
He’d experienced being murdered by his father.
The gift he was so proud of was a curse that his father had been regularly stealing from him.
And that whoever his real family was, they might all be dead.
All because of his status as Libra.
Hands came up to clutch at his head, as he tried so desperately to make sense of what was happening to him, this hell his mind was turning into. Any attempt to try and remember anything beyond his father causing so much pain. He began to curl up against the wall, hands still clutching his head, as he muttered to himself.
Jason Anderson Protivnik: Ohgodohgodohgod….
He was so wrapped up in what was going on in his head, he never noticed what was above him.
On a fire escape over him, sat a man. This man wore a nice suit, nice shoes, and would look not a bit out of place in a business meeting.
And he had no face.
Or, rather, he wore a mask that was entirely featureless. Just a hard, black material attached to his face. Shards coming from the edge of the mask dug into the back of his head to attach the mask. No nose holes, no mouth opening, no eyeholes.
Despite that he looked down at Anderson just fine.
The Faceless Man: How in-ter-est-ing…
And despite having no face, his tone made it clear that there was a grin hidden somewhere behind that mask.
The Faceless Man: Will this begin the “end of the world”, or the “finale” of Libra?
A laugh, as he looks up at the sky, at something only his eyes can see.
The Faceless Man: And will he fall to you or to me, you bastard?
And as he asked that, down below him, Jason Anderson Protivnik continued to lose himself.
To Be Continued
