by Chewy Walrus
EPS headquarters, Chicago:
"Oof!" Dr. Charles Walker flew into a bulkhead across the room, shattering it as he clattered to the floor. The former geneticist winced as he pulled a foot-long shard of glass from his bleeding arm. Tossing the glass away and reaching up with his good arm, Walker grabbed a headset -- one that he used to communicate with the rest of the EPS -- and slid it onto his head. "Walker to I.G.O.R. Come in, I.G.O.R.," Walker hissed into the microphone piece. Static.
Walker swore silently as he peeked over the desk that shielded him from the carnage outside. And there he saw him, haloed and shrouded in a striking crimson aura: Agent Turner.
Walker had to admit that this was unexpected, yet also terribly ironic. He had just found Turner's metagene cloning schematic, and now the man stood fifty feet away destroying his headquarters and maiming his team. Walker sighed, slipping down onto the ground, which was covered with tin bits of wire, glass, and metal. His mind wandered as he ripped off a large piece of his lab coat, wrapping it tightly around the puncture wound on his arm, where Turner had telekinetically shoved a large shard of glass.
"We didn't even see him coming!" Walker hissed, thinking back to how Turner had busted in. He and Tweed had just finished mapping the metagene schematic when a large, unseen blast knocked the two from their positions. Tweed rolled safely out of the way as Walker had turned to see I.G.O.R. hovering there with Agent Turner lurking behind him. Then, I.G.O.R. started firing. Turner had somehow turned I.G.O.R. against them.
When Owens and Reynolds showed up to see what was going on, Turner was prepared. As he sent his scarlet energy coursing through their bodies, the two were hurled across the room. A swift blow from an unseen Tweed caught Turner off guard, but he quickly recouped, grabbing the crime boss by the neck and tossing him through the large computer monitor. An empathic wave of fear hit Turner's mind, but he quickly overcame it, telekinetically ramming Vidalia's head into a metal wall until the empathic connecion was severed. The blinding flash of light erupted from Reynolds' skin as the man began floating in the air toward the assailant. Covering his eyes, Turner swatted the man away, his skin dimming to the point of total lack of illumination.
It was Walker who attempted the final assault. A piece of lead pipe in his hand, the man screamed, running at the glowing red form of the former MCCA uber-agent. Suddenly, without warning, Walker's body stopped mid-lunge. The pipe in his hands slowly slipped from his fingers and began spinning rapidly around his head, stopping at Turner's leisure to swat him in the head, the gut, the groin, or the knees. Laughing, Turner had then hoisted him into the air, lifting many pieces of glass from the shattered monitor in which the unconscious Tweed still lay. The shards began orbiting Walker's form, like electrons rotating an atom. Finally, the pieces began to make cuts on hs body. His face. His chest. His hands. His feet. And, finally, the shard that impaled him in the arm. Then, Turner tossed the man telekinetically across the room, as though he were a rag doll.
Now, Turner bellowed with laughter, waking over to the computer banks as I.G.O.R. began downloading all the files on the EPS central core onto a disk for the mad agent gone horribly rogue.
"This ain't over yet," Walker called feebly, but enough to attract Turner's attention.
"WHAT?" Turner laughed maniacally. "Look around you, Walker! I've WON! I know all about this place. Your operation, your team, your headquarters, your... help," Turner chuckled motioning to I.G.O.R., who was busy downloading more system files. "What can you possibly do to defeat me?"
"Meet the wild card," Walker said smiling as he pressed a button on his belt. A metal door slid open, revealing the menacing form of Agent "John Doe"... the most powerful metahuman known to man. And he looked none too happy.