T
Thuro 116 Pendragon
Guest
Original poster
"Listen, I meant what I said! I havn't seen that face before in my life"
William listened, but he didn't believe him. Not yet. These invaders had been infiltrating their world for centuries. They'd say and do anything to gain a foothold in their world. He just crossed his arms impassively, the photo of his son clenched in his grip. But as the man in what looked like a boiler suit kept talking, something felt off about the whole situation. William Miles was never a man that doubted his own convictions, but this group of the invaders...
"I know how you feel, man" The Antman mumbled "I have a kid too. She's a lot younger than yours, by the looks of things. Her name is Cassie. I know what you're going through. Being separated from them sucks"
"You really think I'd hurt someone else kid, no matter 'is age? No. The answer's no. Let me help you get him back"
They weren't like the group in the nineties. Those had come, taken what they'd wanted, then left without another word. Taking their prize with them.
For a moment, William's face softened. Maybe they were being honest, and they weren't the same as the other visitors. From the history of his own world there was always those who would take and those who would oppose them.
Then his face hardened again. Sara Stillman, Allison Phillips, John King, and finally his own flesh and blood, Desmond Miles. They were who he was doing this for. The moment of indecision was gone, and he called out to his men, "Take them back for interrogation. If they resist, shoot to kill. We only need on-..."
The Mentor never got to finish his sentence. A single arrow sailed into the group, in the no man's land between Lost Souls and the armed men. Both sides stared at it for a minute before tracing it back to it's source.
Look up to the skies and you could see him. The archer was crouched on the catwalks, another arrow already fitted and pulled taut. He was fitted in a tight green leather suit with a cloth hood pulled over the top. He crouched hidden in the darkness, a guardian angel for lost souls and a terror for those who would prey on the city.
He yelled one word in a gravelly voice, "Scatter!"
The arrow sunk deep into the ground exploded in a wave of sound and light, a concussion grenade that been fitted onto onto the back of an arrow shaft.
It would be a really good time for Lost Souls to get the hell out of there.
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