The Dawn of Destruction, Chapter Five(clean)

                  The Dawn of Destruction

Interitus 1 – Book One

Chapter Five

 

            It was just three days after the fight on the beach by Seventh Street. Still knowing nothing of Creation or Destruction, the authorities concluded that it was a battle between paramilitary extremist groups who somehow escaped by sea. Guns, knives, submachineguns, and even a sword littered the beach. They found dugouts and explosives. They hypothesized that the damage done to the nearby shops was merely collateral, though this did not set anyone at ease. Many chose to distract themselves from the turmoil and confusion. People carried about their ordinary routines, ignoring the inexplicable attack outside their city, trying to force normality on a world which seemed to have none.

The people in the crowded streets walked quietly in various directions. Some kept their gaze on their phones, others kept their heads in the sky, but virtually no one paid attention to their surroundings as they ambled onward.

Connor stood beside a fountain in the street median, waiting patiently in a bustling part of San Diego. His brother, only a few years younger than him, nervously watched the busy streets while firmly holding an oversized bag. Vehicles slowly crept through the intersections and blocks; even the pedestrians moved at a more gradual pace than usual. They were like sheep among wolves. They were a congregation of unsuspecting gazelles in the moment before the lions arrived, trapping them in a concrete jungle of twenty-story trees.

As Connor and Pete mentally prepared themselves for their long-planned undertaking, Connor let out an audible laugh as he remarked that he truly had nothing against the world. It was never an unfair place to him. He and his brother simply had nowhere to go and nothing to do with the remainder of their shallow lives. After all, their best days had passed, and there was now nothing fun to look forward to.

            These boys lived for fun and entertainment; nothing mattered but thrills and excitement. Careers, women, money—none of it appealed to them. Their games were all that they considered fun. Connor and Pete lived for that climatic moment when a person on the screen died from a single tap of their controller; that moment meant everything to them. They lived for the chase and basked in the kill. But even so, the repetitive thrill of killing something two-dimensional gradually lost its former power. Killing virtual people became too easy and too redundant, and this was why they had escalated to their new, true game.

            Connor’s phone vibrated in his pocket. His accomplice, elsewhere in the city, told him that by the time he received this particular message, the power grid for this section of the city would shut off. The three boys had planned this day for months. One by one, the lights of the buildings darkened in sequence, although this was barely noticeable in the light of day. One by one, confused people staggered outside in frequent intervals, griping about the unexpected malfunction. One by one, Connor alerted his brother through silent signals that the time was upon them, and so they both reached into their bag. One by one, the commoners and pedestrians walked blindly past the two boys, completely unaware of what they were assembling. One by one, the seconds passed by as the boys exchanged glances and inhaled in preparation. They locked eyes and lifted their guns. One by one, the people in the streets dropped like flies, slaughtered like swine, brought to their death in a storm of gunfire.

            Bullets pierced the air in all directions. To the fleeing bystanders, it looked like people collapsed from a random spray of bullets. But to the two focused gunmen, every person retained their individuality even as they ran and died. The two boys relished every moment when their bullets pierced their victims’ skulls, causing blood and brain matter to spew into the street. In just a short while, heaps of bodies lay lifeless or trembling, staining the sidewalk and asphalt with the blood of helpless civilians.

To make matters worse, the bystanders could not call for help; every cell tower had gone dark. Less than sixty seconds into the massacre, the carnage already poured into the storm drains. Hordes of people dragged their convulsing bodies through the interlocking roads, until eventually they died from bleeding out.

            Approximately 120 bodies were dead or approaching this within three minutes. Not a single scratch befell the boys, and very few people managed to escape the cleared streets. The boys gave each other an appreciative nod for their efficiency, since they had only used a third of their magazines between them. As the boys resolved to enter buildings and individually execute the people hiding within, they slapped hands and shouted with exhilaration.

But even though they had dismantled the power grid in the area, the news still slowly diffused from downtown. Those who managed to escape ran away at full speed, telling everyone they could about the carnage. But even so, very few in the outside world would know about this tragedy until hours after it had begun.

***

Meanwhile, Seth was calmly enjoying a turkey sandwich when a series of loud knocks pounded upon his door. He let out a deep sigh, knowing that only one person could make this rude of an appearance. Seth chuckled to himself and walked over to the door, but before he could even open it, Phil rushed inside. However, Phil usually ran or biked over; this time there was a cab driver parked outside Seth’s house.

            “Man, you ain’t never gon’ believe what’s goin’ down!” Phil shouted, motioning quickly toward the city.

            Sighing because he had had an otherwise calm day, Seth asked, “What is it?”

            “There these crazy white kids runnin’ round with fully-auto rifles like they in some video game! They shootin’ people with they guns like they in some Call of Army, going like rat-a-tat-tat-tat,” Phil exclaimed.

            Seth felt his heartbeat accelerate as his body fell cold, but for some reason, it did not feel real. It wasn’t that Seth did not trust his best friend, but he struggled to grasp the immediacy of the situation.

 “Why the hell are they doing that…?” Seth asked.

            “Why you askin’ me, man? Do I look like Steven Hawkin’? I ain’t no old-ass wheelchair space wormhole dude, am I? I ain’t got all the damn answers! All I know is they shootin’ at people! We gotta get outta here before the police blame me!” Phil shouted.

            After contemplating briefly, Seth asked, “You remember when we fought on the beach, right? It’s different now. I learned how to control my power. I can Destroy anything on contact, but only if I want to. I’ve gotta stop them, and I’m the only one who can.”

            “Man, Seth, you must be crazy or some shit. Hearing two dudes is shootin’ at people and wanting to run in there too… you must be out yo damn mind,” Phil said, shaking his head.

            But after a brief sigh, Phil added, “But that’s alright, I’ll go with you. We brothers ‘til the end.”

            A smile broke out on Seth’s face. He asked, “Are you sure? It’ll be dangerous; I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Phil nodded. Seth grabbed the key to his house from a nearby countertop. Even though he knew that this was serious, even though he knew that he would have to run toward gunfire, the cold reality was taking time to settle in. To assert his position, Phil flashed the contents of his jacket pocket.  Five throwing knives glistened in the dim light. Suddenly, Seth felt a little more optimistic for the upcoming struggle. Since Phil had been practicing his knife-throwing from a young age, Seth knew he could hit a target with almost 100% accuracy. And almost every time, the knife would sink deep into the wooden target.

The cab driver honked loudly outside. As he slapped his forehead, Phil said, “Hey, Seth, that remind me! I don’t got no money to pay this nice dude. You wanna help my broke-ass out?”

***

            As the cab gradually approached the locus of the massacre, Seth and Phil noticed fewer and fewer pedestrians until eventually there were none. It baffled Seth that the police had not yet learned of the massacre, or if they had, they had yet to confront the situation. But as he pondered the lack of response, Seth realized that the authorities were certainly aware. He concluded that they were avoiding the battle not because of regulations, but instead so that they would not endanger themselves. He hoped that there was more to the story than mere cowardice and incompetence; he hoped that they were simply waiting for backup. But in either case, the victims were defenseless because of their inaction.

            The cab parked along a road that ran parallel to King Street—the alleged center of the massacre. Seth silently paid the driver and disembarked into the quiet air. The vehicle quickly drove off in the opposite direction, leaving Seth and Phil alone in the heart of danger. They began stealthily walking along the sidewalk, creeping behind cars and benches. After walking just one block further, they found a street decorated with carnage and corpses. No one made a sound; no one else was audacious enough to consentingly march into this mousetrap.

            “Don’t look down; don’t look down,” Seth whispered to himself as he walked on.

            Seth kept his eyes locked on distant buildings so that he would not risk his calm composure. He knew he would lose his cool if he looked too closely at the carnage.

            “Man, this is some seriously messed-up shit. Who would even do somethin’ like this? I may’ve known some real crazy people when we was younger, but nothin’ like this. Who would do this?” Phil whispered, shaking his head in astonishment.

            “I don’t even want to think about it. This probably sounds weird, especially at a time like this, but my brain just won’t stop. Can I stop them without killing them? I mean-”

            But Phil interrupted his friend and said, “Don’t even start with that shit, Seth. You see all this? Some motherfuckers just need to die.”

            A three-burst of bullets shattered the soundscape’s silence, shattering the stillness as it startled Seth and Phil. The world changed in this moment; it became a world of sound. Two thumps sounded as Seth and Phil threw themselves against the sidewalk to avoid being struck on the second try. Resounding echoes reverberated through the sky. Bloody-mouthed vultures fled far and high, beating their wings vigorously so they could fly away. As Seth held himself against the ground, he mistakenly caught sight of a single morbid scene: Over a dozen bloody bodies were scattered the pavement. He saw frozen frames of people in their dying moments as they tried to get away. Draining corpses lay in the road. No one showed a single sign of life. In the near distance, gunshots rang out through the air again, although this time it sounded like it came from underground.

            “I don’t think they shootin’ at us! I think they in a parking garage or some shit, shootin’ at someone else. But don’t you worry! If we jus’ get kinda close, I can get them with my knife before they even get to use them big-ass guns!” Phil whispered.

            Seth nodded in agreement, knowing Phil had a point. They rose into a crouching position and stealthily crawled along the line of buildings and businesses. At the end of the sidewalk on the right side of the road, he saw a shadowed area which, from a distance, looked like it might harbor the parking garage. Phil removed two of his throwing knives from his jacket pocket and smiled at his own reflection in them.

            “They don’t even know, man, these guys don’t even know who they up against!” Phil boasted, smiling as he felt more daring to speak at his regular volume.

            Despite Phil’s increasing morale, an anguished scream erupted from the parking garage. The shrillness of this voice crumbled Seth’s composure. Another voice, one which sounded younger and more high-pitched than the other, sobbed loudly.

            Seth and Phil glanced inside the shadowy entrance to see a labyrinth of automobiles stretching across twenty rows, each containing at least fifty cars. Just past the tenth row, a short man stood with a long, black rifle pointed at two children. He looked like a stereotypical army recruit; he was somewhat toned, wearing a camouflage jacket, and had a thin buzz cut. Although it was impossible to see any expressions from this distance, Seth and Phil could easily tell that the man drew a sick satisfaction from his power over his two helpless victims.

            “Don’t worry. Your brother won’t feel a thing,” the man told her.

            The gunman smiled sadistically. A round of bullets fired through the air, quickly ending two innocent lives. As blood splashed onto the brick wall, Seth dropped instinctively to the ground, paralyzed by the clenching hold of anger and terror. Phil dropped in sync, although he managed to keep a cooler head than his friend; he urged Seth to crawl to the nearest line of automobiles. Once there, they silently crawled between and beneath the parked vehicles. As he moved, Seth kept his ears trained on the gunmen. The pressure was so intense that Seth had not noticed how far he had traveled until they passed the eighth row of cars.

            “Damn, check out the rims on this car! This shit’s amazing! How they afford all this chrome, man? You can tell he gets hoes,” Phil exclaimed.

            Seth buried his face in his hands.

            “Who’s there? Come out now!” yelled the young man with the gun.

            Seth sighed quietly, shaking his head while dragging his hands off his face. Phil looked absolutely embarrassed. Underneath two cars, Seth and Phil split in a silent effort to surround the shooter in the parking garage. When they first split up, Seth was closer to the miscreant. The gunman stood only thirty feet away, and Seth considered Destroying a crater in the ground. He hoped that the debris and airborne dust would startle the enemy long enough for Seth to run up and Destroy him.

As Seth prepared his calculated attack, the man caught sight of him and unleashed a rapid barrage of bullets. Seth flattened himself between two cars and then dragged himself on the ground, hoping that no bullets would bounce off a car and hit him. Clangs and clamors erupted all around him; sparks and dents flashed across the bodies of the vehicles.

            “Connor, I saw a mixed guy crawling in the parking garage by the law firm! I don’t know where he is,” the man shouted into a walkie-talkie.

            The shooter maintained his focus on the cars where he originally saw Seth, but his concentration turned out to be the source of his downfall. Phil stealthily approached from the shadows behind him. Phil steadied his throwing knife in a close-combat fashion; he planned to run up and stab his enemy. Even though he only had a very small chance of missing a throw, a stab was a guaranteed win.

However, the silence failed to conceal Phil’s nimble footsteps; the gunman suddenly swerved to face him. Phil could not allow the enemy to stabilize his gun and fire, so he lunged forward and ripped a tremendous slash through the closest extremity—he tore through the right arm which held the rifle. The gunman let out a shriek as he jolted backward, dropping his rifle on the asphalt with a slam.

“What’s up now, bitch?! You was thinkin’ all that good shit a minute ago, but now you got no weapon! You can’t even hold that big-ass gun in yo left hand neither, so don’t try nothin’ slick with me! I got you!” Phil boasted.

            The gunslinger bowed his head as if in defeat. He crouched and tensed the muscles in his back. Phil grinned widely from his sense of success, but then the man abruptly jumped backward and upward in a spring-like jolt. Before Phil could even react or chase him, the gunman removed a second, smaller handgun from his jacket. Seth dragged himself out from underneath a car, hoping to catch the enemy by surprise before he could shoot Phil, but then another three-burst of bullets smashed nearby car windows. Connor had arrived.

            “Pete, hurry up and kill them! I’m tired of always doing all the work!” Connor shouted.

            Seth found it odd that Connor disparaged his brother as if this were a performance, but then again, Seth knew there was no point in trying to reason with these boys. Pete clenched his teeth and fired once at Phil, but by then Phil had hurled himself beneath the cars behind him. Seth sprinted toward the cars on the other side of his attacker, having decided that it would be foolish to run up and attack Pete; such a move would let Connor kill him with ease. However, he also knew that Pete was distracted with searching for Phil. Therefore, Seth planned to crouch-run and trip Pete, Destroying him on the ground without getting shot.

            However, there was one element for which Seth did not account. When he charged up and slammed Pete to the ground, Connor jumped atop the nearest car at the entrance of the parking garage. He then unleashed a spray of bullets, and one flew so close that it plowed through Seth’s thin afro. Choosing to abandon his previous plan, Seth sprinted in a low, serpentine-style run toward Phil, and together they ran for the exit at the back of the parking garage.

The escape from the parking garage went much smoother than the preceding skirmish. Pete and Connor certainly did not want Seth and Phil to escape the area, but they still had to rally themselves. After Seth and Phil ran out the back of the garage, they sprinted across the street toward a tall building with office windows. Partway through the dash, Phil stopped for a quick breath. From a distance, he noticed that the lights were still on in this building, suggesting that it had a backup generator.

 “Seth… is we givin’ up?” he asked, panting.

            “No, we are just, uh, devising a plan. That did not go well… at all.”

The two friends ran inside the building and toward the elevator at the end of the first-floor lobby. Phil glanced over his shoulder and saw the two brothers running toward the building’s glass entrance, so he thrust himself and Seth into the elevator without a second thought. Their baited trap had worked as intended, but Phil had half-hoped that the gunmen would instead run in a different direction.

 “They comin’. We gon’ have to split so they don’t get us,” Phil said, hitting the buttons for the ninth and tenth floor.

            Seth nodded in agreement, sensing that he could not easily block bullets with his power. Phil chose to enter the ninth floor, where he could easily subdue his enemies with a quick knife-throw. Seth chose to take the top floor, since his power could potentially grant him access to any other floor from there. Once Phil got out on the ninth floor, he ran over to the far window as quickly as he could. He looked over the street and verified that the two gunmen had already entered the building. Phil chose not to stand outside the elevator with his knife drawn, since then the fight would just be a random match of speed. Instead, he decided to wait behind the door of a corner office with a view of the city. But when he glanced around the room, he saw a bloody mass in the adjacent hallway; the killers had clearly been here earlier in the day.

            “It’s funny. They gon’ die in the same room as the dude they killed,” Phil whispered to himself.

            Phil heard the elevator doors open. He listened as one pair of footsteps slowly walked through the hallway, pushing each door open along the way. Phil perched himself in the corner so he could watch the unsuspecting gunman enter through the crack in the open door. After a few minutes of silent waiting, his efforts were rewarded. Pete entered the office room, this time armed with a simple handgun. It was now or never.

            Phil kicked the door with all his strength. It slammed into the younger brother and threw him right beside the window. Because his enemy was clearly disoriented, Phil clenched his knife and rushed him. Although Pete had not stabilized, he lifted his gun and fired without trying to steady his weapon, allowing Phil to narrowly dodge by ducking. In the very same moment, Phil charged ahead and crashed into his enemy with a decisive low strike.

While reeling from the impact, Pete prepared to fire a second shot. If Phil wanted to stop him, he would have to reach farther than the short blade of his knife. With a high-speed swipe of his right leg, Phil sent Pete tumbling to the ground. Knowing that the impact had stunned his enemy, Phil jumped forward and tackled Pete’s falling body. Phil crashed into him, broke the window, and then threw his enemy through the opening. Glass shattered and blood splattered; Pete flew out of the building, plummeted through the air, and crashed into the hard concrete street. Phil had nearly stumbled out the window as well, but he caught himself at the last moment.

            Meanwhile, Seth ventured from the top floor of the building to the only place even higher—the roof. The hallway leading to the elevator had an ajar ladder which ascended to the daylight overhead; it looked like it had been assembled in a hurry. Seth wondered if people had used it while rushing to safety. He climbed to the rooftop, hoping that the people who fled there had managed to survive.

            Three buzzards stood precariously over a pile of carrion and bloody tissue. Two different bodies lay side-by-side in eternal slumber, conjoined at the hand in their final moment. Seth wondered if he was becoming numb to the carnage, or perhaps the moribund circumstances had hardened him to the sight of scattered remains. But either way, Seth overcame his emotions so that he could determine the source of their demise. He found dusty footprints all over the rooftop, although there were only two sets of footprints instead of three; the gunman appeared to have shot them from the ladder. Furthermore, the couple had been struck down before they had a chance to face him, seeing as how their bloody bodies had fallen face-down.

            A loud crash sounded from below as the older gunman emerged from the elevator. Seth took a deep breath, realizing that he had nothing to hide behind on the building’s rooftop; he had no choice but to flee. The palm of his hand met the rooftop beneath him in a Destructive embrace; he dematerialized a square meter of the rooftop, and then he fell into a short crash onto the tenth floor. Deafening gunfire sounded from above, and Seth opened up another hole to the next level beneath him. Phil stood in the hallway as Seth fell through the roof, but he was clearly surprised by this sudden arrival.

            “He shootin’ on the roof? Man, we gotta get out this bitch,” Phil whispered, pulling his friend toward the elevator.

            Seth frightfully nodded, desperate for a moment where he could catch his breath and devise a solution. Phil ran with him toward the elevator, and when they arrived, Phil slammed the button indicating the first floor. But as the steel doors mechanically narrowed, Phil jumped outside and returned to the ninth floor. Before the doors shut and separated the two brothers, Phil shouted to Seth through the crack, “Now don’t yo ass come try to help me or any of that good shit; we gotta get you out and worry ‘bout me later!”

            Seth slammed his fists against the steel doors, furious that Phil had decided to fight the gunman alone. When the elevator doors opened to the bottom floor, Seth noticed that the lights were also on in the building across the street. As he thought about it, he realized that the lights in the parking garage were also strangely functioning, despite the alleged loss of power in this section of the city. He wondered if electrical power had returned before he and Phil had even arrived. Either way, Seth knew that the authorities were certainly aware of the crisis, yet they had not mounted a response of any kind. And now because of their inaction, Phil had to risk his life in an almost impossible struggle.

            When Seth stepped out of the building with a groan, he saw a familiar body splattered across the pavement. Seth pushed its face aside with his shoe, verifying that the corpse did in fact belong to Pete. Although it appeared to have happened only five to ten minutes ago, Seth craned his head skyward to see if he could figure out how this had happened. And although he saw the shattered window through which Pete fell, he saw another spectacle which was much more important.

            As Phil stood along the edge of the roof, he shouted, “You know I killed yo brother, right?!”

            Seth felt his heart freeze with fear that Phil’s audacity would get him killed. But to his surprise, Connor apathetically answered, “I’m not surprised in the slightest.”

            “You know what he ask me to tell you ‘fore he died?”

            “No.”

            “He said splat, bitch! You crazy-ass motherfuckers been runnin’ around shootin’ at unarmed people like you all that good shit or somethin’, but that don’t prove a goddamn thing! Ain’t yo momma teach yo punk-ass better than that?” Phil shouted.

            Seth then watched Phil throw three of his knives at the same time, resulting in an echoing shout from his enemy. In a sudden counterattack, Connor fired a triple burst of bullets, so Phil jumped off the ledge in a last hope for survival.

            Phil started falling from about 100 feet off the ground. And although he only fell fifteen feet in the first second, Phil noticed Seth standing on the ground below him.

            “Seth, get yo big-ass out the way! I may be goin’ to hell but I don’t wanna take my brother down with me!” Phil yelled as he flew by the floors of the building.

            However, Seth did not step away or quiver in the slightest. He rigidly stared skyward as his best friend accelerated toward the earth. Outstretching his left arm, Seth focused on Phil as the target of his Destruction, though Phil’s eyes widened in confusion. Up until this point, Phil did not know the advantages and disadvantages of Seth’s left arm, and therefore it looked like Seth planned to Destroy him altogether. But in the moment that they touched, Seth grabbed Phil’s falling body and Destroyed Phil’s kinetic energy just a few feet from the ground, halting his descent. To his overwhelming surprise, Phil opened his eyes and fell gently to the ground. The impact was nothing in comparison, and Phil gave Seth a look of confusion.

            “Now, you know you gon’ have to explain that shit to me! You just stop my dumb-ass from dyin’ and shit; you like that guy from the movie who stopped people from killin’ themselves,” Phil said, his eyes wide with impressed shock.

            Phil stabilized his footing as he regained control. Seth could tell that he was still astonished that the fall had not killed him.

            “I forgot to tell you earlier, but my left hand Destroys energy kinda like my right hand Destroys matter. I actually used it on the beach when Naomi shot lightning at us,” Seth explained as they rushed back into the building from which Phil just jumped.

            “Man, that’s some good shit! But wait jus’ a minute. You tellin’ me you can block a dude’s weapons? You coulda blocked them punk-ass bullets with yo hand?! Why didn’t you say that shit earlier?” Phil asked as Seth punched the elevator’s button for the tenth floor.

            “Because it’s not that simple! Not like it was with Naomi. Their bullets move too fast, and they don’t all shoot straight. I don’t know where they’re gonna be!” Seth said.

            “Alright, alright, I’mma get yo ass later for forgettin’ to tell me, but right now we gotta get down to business. The wound I gave that guy is in his left arm or some shit, so that ain’t gon’ do us no good,” Phil explained, seconds before the elevator opened.

            Phil and Seth stealthily walked through the hallway of the tenth story, examining every office to make sure that Connor was not hiding in any of them. After confirming that the floor was empty, Phil rushed up the ladder and prepared to throw a knife, but no one stood up there either. He saw a splash of wet blood from the gunman’s wound, the same two bloody bodies, three throwing knives, a small hole from Seth’s previous escape, and a small shed with a slightly-open door, likely used to store janitorial supplies. Phil quickly climbed up to retrieve his knives, though he kept his hand on the handle of his fourth knife.

            As they stood on the roof, halfway between the roof access and the storage room, a metal clang sounded from the ladder. Seth swerved to see Connor standing on the ladder with his head and rifle barely poking up. The gunman adjusted his head to stare through the sights on his rifle. Since Phil was distracted by a bird flying over the building, Seth grabbed his friend and sprinted toward the storage room. Two three-bursts of bullets crashed just centimeters from their ankles, but Seth and Phil managed to reach the storage room without getting shot. Phil slammed the door shut so that they would be safe inside for a brief moment.

            “This is yo big plan, Seth? We got two sweaty guys stuck hot and heavy in some closet, and there ain’t nowhere to go! What would the hoes think if they seen us like this?!”

            Seth sighed, noting that this reaction was typical for Phil. Seth remembered that he would occasionally disguise his claustrophobia and nervousness with homophobic paranoia. Paying no attention to Phil’s words, Seth looked at the ground as he tried to remember what was just underneath it.

            “I’m just saying, it’s pretty gay up in here, man. If this was the plan you went with, I’d hate to see what yo other plan was,” Phil whimpered, backing into a corner.

            “Man, shut the hell up! Look, I’m gonna break a hole through this roof, and then I want you to throw your knives at him. Once I drop down there, I’m gonna rush him while he’s distracted, got it?” Seth asked.

            Phil’s face evened out, and then he nodded. Phil unsheathed two throwing knives and slowly turned the door handle with his left hand. Seth vaporized a piece of the ground beneath him, and then he silently lowered himself into an office. As he rushed quietly into the hallway of the tenth story, he watched as Connor fired multiple shots at the rooftop storage room. This moment was perfect.

While Seth stealthily approached his enemy, he felt his right hand thirst for a chance to vanquish the murderer. At the base of the ladder, Seth outreached his arm. He closed his eyes, focused on the body of the gunman, pulled his fingers together, and pressed his right hand against Connor. Just as he had envisioned, his right hand Destroyed the nefarious gunman in a fraction of a second. His body disappeared all at once, and his weapon dropped onto the ladder with a metallic crash.

            All at once, silence returned to the bleeding world. The pressure in the air seemed to fade by the second. There were no enemies left to fight; Seth felt like he had avenged the civilians caught in the crossfire. The world of sound became a world of silence. A gust of wind flew across the rooftop, carrying away dust as a gentle peace settled in. Phil crept out of the closet apprehensively, sighing with relief when he saw that they succeeded.

            “Don’t you go ‘round makin’ any jokes about me comin’ out the closet or some shit,” Phil said with a wide smile, “I know how you do.”

            Seth let out a hearty laugh. The last hour had felt incredibly tense, almost like the gravity was inescapable. But now, the air was clear, and their efforts had proved worthwhile.

            “You know, the police are probably gonna want to talk to us about how we killed Connor, and since there’s no body, someone’s gonna get suspicious. If they learn about Destruction, the government will probably wanna run experiments on me, or they may even just point-blank execute me. And we can’t have that! How are we gonna get out of here without being questioned or stopped?” Seth asked.

            Phil smiled widely as he looked over the tranquil horizon.

            “Lucky for you, I got a lot of experience runnin’ away from the police. I can get a cab here in less than two minutes, but I gotta warn you. I ain’t got no money to pay them with.”