by Disco Steve and Chewy Walrus
EPS headquarters, Chicago, days ago:
Will Tweed approached Dr. Charles Walker and said, "Hey, there's a new metagene detected in L.A."
"Initialize procurement."
Los Angeles:
Steve Richards trained on his apartment building's rooftop as he did quite frequently. He moved his sword from side to side, spinning around, blocking attacks from invisible enemies and subsequently using his kenpo skills to attack them.
He had finally become used to his apartment, something quite different from what he had grown up with as a child. He remembered his family's big house in New York City, a house always bustling with people, usually his father's associates or people he was doing business with. Quite an exciting place for a child.
But that was ancient history. The Yakuza had made sure of that. His father and Junichiro Nakamura used to be business partners, almost friends. Nakamura once gave him a katana, a Japanese sword. Some time later, his men slaughtered his father's associates, while Nakamura took care of his father and brothers. He was lucky. He was not in the business at the time, nor did he ever plan on being part of it.
Some time after that, Steve truly held the sword for the first time. A wave of power enveloped him. He was faster, stronger. His senses were better... much better. He realized he was now able to get revenge on Nakamura and his men for his father's and brothers' deaths and for causing anguish to his mother. But he needed training before he took on the Yakuza, and he got it in Los Angeles by fighting crime by night. He called himself the Dark Stalker.
EPS headquarters, Chicago, sometime later:
"Fascinating," Walker whispered, cradling the katana in his hands, running his fingers down the length of the magnificent blade.
"Well, I'll confess that it is intriguing," Tweed said, puffing on his cigar. "What did you say this thing did again? And why's this guy's metagene so 'fascinating'?"
"Well," Walker began, looking at the younger man now lying in hibernation stasis, "it seems to me that this man's metagene has a different consistency from others that I've seen." The doctor slid into a nearby chair and pushed a few buttons on the bulkhead next to the man's stasis chamber.
A small holographic image of a strand of metahuman DNA popped up, rotating along a horizontal axis. "You see these?" Walker asked, indicating a group of interestingly positioned nucleotides. Tweed arched his eyebrow and nodded. "These are the combinations that make up the metagene for enhanced strength, speed, and senses."
Tweed huffed, blowing a billow of smoke out of his mouth. "So what's the deal with the sword, then?"
"I was just getting to that," Walker said, glaring at Tweed somewhat. "When we procured this specimen, this sword was in his hand." Having said this, Walker raised the sword slightly. "Upon our... removal of the sword and the placing of this man in stasis, we found this..."
Walker pressed some more buttons on the bulkhead, and soon the metahuman DNA image was replaced by one of normal human DNA. "He no longer bears the exact combination. I'm not sure what it is, but something in this sword activates a latent metagene in this individual."
"Fascinating," Tweed said, removing his cigar and touching the katana himself.
"My thoughts exactly," Walker said, nodding and once again studying the sword.
"I don't feel anything," Tweed said, touching the hilt of the sword. "Why won't it work for me?"
"I'm not certain," Walker said. "For some reason or another, it wouldn't work for me, either. I'm guessing it only works for him." Walker nodded his head to the hibernating man. "At any rate, I want to keep it here for testing."
"What about him?" Tweed said, tapping the top of the man's stasis bed.
"Oh, I suppose we can let him out," Walker said, shrugging. "Have Reynolds fit him with a restraining collar. If he does get ahold of this sword, I don't want another fiasco like we had when we brought him here. Poor Ms. Owens hardly saw it coming," Walker said, remembering the gash that the female EPS agent had sustained during her bout with the man.
"What's this guy's name again?" Tweed said, preparing to dehibernate him.
"The records on file indicate that he is one 'Stephen Richards,' but he's young, so he probably goes by Steve," Walker said shrugging, and he walked toward the door.
"I gotcha," Tweed said, nodding.
"Oh, and Tweed?" Walker said right before his exit. The man in white turned and arched an eyebrow again. "Make sure to keep this one away from Cicciotto. I'll not have that upstart trying to cause any more dissention here than there already is. Got me?"
"Loud and clear," Tweed said, a smile running across his face.