Jack Halligan, Legion

How many years had it been since Jack had been so happy? Maybe when he proposed to his wife he felt the same fluttering and jittering in his stomach that he felt now. His son, his poor, lost boy that he had lost during the Last Light was still alive.

Jack's steps got even faster. The outskirts of the Polis were filled with various people, from thugs to druggies, one could find them anywhere here. No one stopped the cyborg, not wanting to test their mettle against the old man's steel.

A red warning popped up in his cybernetic eye. His drones had been destroyed or disabled, all at once even. The virus that the Grinning Devil had installed in his network was stronger than he had first thought, nevertheless, it was still all according to plan.

After the sensors at the entrance of his apartment triggered, Legion touched the screen on his pad and activated the Invasion Protocol. The whole building would be inundated by non-explosive gas and then the fire would begin. The damage would be contained in his apartment, as to not hurt any neighbours or unlucky bystanders.

His finger hovered on the START button displayed on his forearm pad. A frown began to form on his face and some familiar faces popped up. Ludomir and Eve… they were just kids, and yet he would burn them alive. He had been told that the girl would survive since she was an Enhanced Human, but Ludomir? It was his death sentence.

A whole human life at the tip of his finger. No human should have this power. His mind made him remember the various talks they had.

"He had a sister…"

Ludomir got into the Unknown business to get enough cash to pay for his sister's treatment. It was not the first time Jack had seen this sort of situation. The world had gone and fucked itself over; even before the Last Light event this side of the globe was a shitty place.

Nevertheless, the old cyborg still delayed the downward movement of his finger. He had told him to leave the masked bastard behind and come with him, at least he would have his life saved and would still be able to help his sister. But the Grinning Devil's shadow was long and dark; it could not be so easily cast away.

The young man trusted that masked bastard as if he wouldn't throw him aside when he had used up his usefulness. Jack shook his head to refocus on the task at hand. Killing someone out of necessity or in the heat of the moment was something that he had done and had with the years come on terms with it… but this was something else.

It was cold and calculated murder. Ludomir was no random stranger unfortunately, otherwise he would not have such qualms with it. In retrospect, Jack regretted opening up with him, but the old cyborg needed someone to vent his feelings even for a little bit, and the young man was a perfect fit.

A cold wind started blowing on his face. It was most fortunate that most of his body was made of metal, though Jack had taken an insulated jacket just in case the weather would worsen. After all, he was no Fjodor Anisimova. Looking up at the sky he inferred that his preparation was worth the extra time.

The screen on his forearm turned off just as the first drops of rain started falling on him. Pulling the hood of his jacket up, Jack took refuge in one of the abandoned buildings. The crumbling walls a warning to the careless traveller to be wary where they put their foot else they risk it all falling down on them.

The cyborg found himself in a broken down living room. The sofas have been torn off their leather, most likely to be used as material for armour. The chimney red bricks had been turned into a shade of grey from all the dust that had settled on it. Walking deeper into the room, he heard a crunch under his heel.

Looking down there was a broken wooden picture frame; the glass shards surrounding his left foot. A photo was slipping out of it. Out of curiosity, Jack picked it up and inspected it.

On it, one could see a family of three: the father on the left, the mother on the right and the daughter in the middle below them. They were all wearing formal clothing: the man in a black suit and red tie, the mother in a white trumpet dress with some red patterns at the end and the daughter in a navy blue Victorian-like ball gown.

There was a soft, playful smile on their faces in opposition to their stoic pose and choice of clothing. Jack's gaze lingered on the daughter. She looked just like one of those dolls one could buy before the War: porcelain white skin, big round blue eyes and a cascade of blond hair all tied in a single pigtail with some of them covering her forehead.

"She looks like her…"

But she was not her. His daughter had been dead for 3 years now, rotting somewhere in the public cemetery. His metallic fingers caressed the photograph, Jack's expression softening.

"I miss you… and… I am sorry."

Blinded by his own success, he put his daughter on the backburner. Especially when she started getting better, Jack started seeing her less and less, until he could not find a single minute to dedicate to her. When she died, he was in an important meeting between the various leaders of the Ural Polis region and neighbouring countries. He only went to see her dead body once he was done, some hours later.

She had hanged herself with a power cord, the height just right to snap her neck and kill her painlessly. She felt no pain. Jack too felt nothing while he looked at her, just a cold feeling that was slowly growing inside him. The next morning he did not fulfil his duties, all day he stayed in his bed, not moving an inch and his sight unmoving from the ceiling. From an outside perspective it was a simple grey wall, but to him it was the canvas of his past. Every moment he had spent with her, every shout, every touch, every "I love you", he was seeing it reflected on it.

For a few days they left him alone, but after almost two weeks they decided to check on him. They found him in the worst possible state: his cybernetic had been damaged from the continuous banging on the walls that showed deep dents on them, his fit physique gained from years on the force had been reduced to just bones and a thin layer of skin. The floor had stains that released a nauseous and intolerable smell.

When the Army Medic got in most people were sure that he would give them an estimated time of death. Surprisingly, the cyborg was still alive, albeit he was one step away from the grave. The whole room smelled of rot and decay from various vomit stains that had become one with the floor. Honestly, it was a miracle that he survived. He wished he didn't.

Legion shook his head. The memories were taking too much of his time, he had no liberty to be standing here and be lost in his regrets. He took one last look at the photo and then threw it away.

The journey was coming to an end, the building they were to meet was just in front of him. It was a somewhat well-kept two stories private house, it reminded him of his own. Obviously he could notice the sign of damage and dirt, nonetheless he could see some of the junkies in the Polis centre living here comfortably. Truly, this place had become a shithole, not that it ever was something to be proud of.

Jack stood before the entrance. Glancing at the windows he didn't notice anyone inside. His cybernetic eyes showed him the time: it was 22:29. Had they not come yet?

He knocked on the door and it opened slightly. Slowly he peered his head inside it, using the various vision of his eye to see if there was something out of place. All seemed quiet. Jack stepped in and closed the door behind him. Now he just had to wait for them. He decided to stay in the living room, mostly so that he could sit on the sofa. It was only old and stuffy, but damn he needed to sit for a bit.

The display on his forearm lit up. On it a single message from an unknown number:

"Do it." He pushed the pop up away and opened the warning that asked him to activate the fire Invasion Protocol on his apartment. His expression turned sour, the hesitation was still there. In the end, he finally proceeded with it.

Before he could feel disgusted by his actions, a voice called out to him and made him jump from the sofa.

"Father…"

Jack froze.

"Father…it's me…Michael…" The voice was low, almost like it was a whisper.

His eyelids covered his eyes, he did not want to turn and see him. But Jack did not have much choice. When he reopened then, there stood a young man before him. A grey, tattered cloak was covering most of his body, yet the cyborg could see that his frame was emancipated. One of his grey eyes had a scar going over it, going down to his upper lip. His light brown hair was kept short, some parts of it were even black, as if they had burned. It was his son, his long lost son.

"Michael…" Jack's hand tried to touch his face, but the young man blocked it.

The old man frowned and looked at him questioningly.

"Sorry, it is a force of habit."

It is understandable, after all having someone touch you this casually could be dangerous. So instead, Jack went for a hug, which the young man did not intercept this time, but reciprocated.

"I have missed you…"

"I have missed you too, father."

"Just call me dad."

"Sorry dad."

Jack took a deep breath and hugged him even harder, as if he would escape the second his grasp weakened. After some silent moments spent in each other's embrace, the son asked:

"How's sister?"

"..."

"Oh… I see." He looked at the floor as if it would comfort him.

Jack's throat was closing on itself, not allowing any words to come out.

"Was it… painful?" Asked Michael.

"No…"

The young man nodded, then pulled himself away from the cyborg's embrace and put his hands on the metallic shoulders. A wry smile on his face.

"At least you have me now, right dad?"

Legion's only biological eye was crying, the other one remaining open to look at his son. He did answer after a while.

"I wish you truly were…"

Legion's cybernetic hand started producing sparks from its fingertip. His arm went straight through Michael and the electricity started to fry him from the inside. There was no smell of burnt flesh, but that of burnt components.

Pulling his hand out, Legion saw that from his wounds there was leaking no human red blood, but a purple-ish, dense liquid. The Android pretender looked at him in the eyes, but the cyborg punched him hard enough to send his jaw and body flying.

"That's what you get for impersonating my son, you son of bitch." He muttered under his breath.

The Grinning Devil was right. This plan of his was deranged, but he could not refute the effectiveness. He played the double agent, pretending to betray the Grinning Bastard so that the Department would show themselves. The damn bastard went even the whole mile, burning his apartment up with Evelyne and Ludomir inside so that they would trust him.

Now he should be there with them, saving Evelyne and hopefully Ludomir too, making himself appear as the hero of this story. Legion had seen his fair share of manipulative pricks without any consciousness. But this one took the whole fucking cake and was able to put the blame on you, somehow.

The cyborg looked at the broken Android. Before starting to take scraps of him, he used his cord hidden in his wrist to connect to the robot's network, trying to send fake signals that it was still alive. Then, he stomped on his head, crushing it. It was a shame for the rare components on his skull, but he could not tolerate looking at his son's face in these conditions, even if it was just a look-alike.

Scouring through the Android logs, he found something that put the fear of God in him.

"A… broken arrow?"

During the Last Great War, some nuclear and atomic ordinances had been lost. In the military, they used to call them Broken Arrows.

"Where the hell did they find one?!"

That was not important. He opened multiple logs and tabs at the same time, working from his forearm pad and his cybernetic eye, trying to find every bit of important information. He was lucky.

The bomb was an atomic one, so no nuclear fallout or another Last Light event, fortunately. It was positioned on the border between the Caliphate and Chinese territories. They had written that it would take approximately 10 to 20 minutes for the ordinance to hit ground zero, depending on the weather. Taking a quick look outside, Legion saw that a storm was starting to brew.

"Truly the Devil's luck…"

After compiling them in the fastest, easy to read, way, he sent it to the Grinning Devil. Now it was all on his hands, at least his and his associate's survival. Legion was sure that there would be no Ural Polis anymore. Maybe for the best.

He grabbed the last few things from the dismantled Android and started walking towards the house exit. Thankfully they had severely underestimated him so there were no other members of the Black Hand or Department here. Now he would need to disappear again. He continued to walk, with no end in mind, just the thought to get down from the mountains as fast as he could.

The Grinning Devil

Thankfully the new vest he had prepared had been made to be resistant to fire, otherwise he would have looked like Anakin on Mustafar.

"About that…."

He glanced down at the still burning Ludomir. Poor lad's clothes had fused with his skin, that would be one painful recovery. If he could recover, that is; from his ragged and laborious breath, the Devil inferred that his airways had been damaged, he maybe had a few good minutes before he died.

He could not allow that. After all, he was his dear, precious subordinate and still had one last role to play before passing away. With a few steps, he was on top of the young man. Using his helmet, he communicated via radio to Khutulun to drop Chiyome to Fjodor, so that she could holster the poor lad on her shoulder.

"Oh wow, giving me to the big, bare-chested ruggedly handsome giant of a man… now I can die happy~.” Said the Last Ninja with a mischievous smile on her face.

The Lion of Ural ignored Khutulun's attempts to bestow the cyborg on his shoulders and focused his attention on the German woman.

“Where is my daughter?” His voice was deep and low, but the seething rage in it made it seem like he had just shouted. Yet the woman, her face not skipping one bit, threw Victoria at their feet and sneered at them.

“Somewhere under the rubble… if you are lucky, you may find a piece of her shattered somewhere.” Her Russian pronunciation had to be worked on, but that mocking smile was a 9/10 on his book.

Before the Grinning Devil could do anything to stop him, the beast of a man pounced on her. His leg strength shattered the ground under him and covered the 10 metres easily. A gunshot echoed for a split second, it came from behind the German lady. High calibre, likely a .300 Winchester Magnum or .338 Lapua Magnum from the sounds of it. The Lion only had a few seconds before the bullet struck him on the head, blowing most of it off. The blood splattered everywhere, some of it even going on the lady. She only showed an annoyed expression for it. As the heavy body was hitting the ground, the Grinning Devil noticed that just the jaw and most of the front of his face had been blown out, leaving his brain mostly intact. Most likely Fjodor heard the shot too and tried to move his head in a way that would reduce the possibility of the bullet striking his grey matter. Glancing quickly at the German lady, he tried to ascertain if she had noticed that the shot had not been fatal. Thankfully she seemed more concerned about her clothing than the giant corpse at her feet.

“Scheiße! I just had it cleaned…” She sighed.

There was a sniper somewhere, maybe more. Using his helmets, the Devil ordered some of the Androids to scout the area sneakily; he could not show his whole hand now. Some of his other robots kept him updated on the situation with the Church and the Chinese. The Department seemed very keen on destroying every faction in this city, maybe this was a secondary objective of theirs. The Black Hand had sent many of their members and between them and the Department, they were making short work of the other Ural Factions. They had to step up their game soon or they all would be fucked. He was going all in on their trump cards: The Iron Soldier and whatever the Church had.

“Now, hurensohn, I will be taking our little pet but before I do that I want to have some fun with you…” - She started, her trailing from the Grinning Devil to Khutulun - “ Does she know that you murdered her brother?”

“...” The Grinning Devil’s twitched, the German’s lady shadow lengthening behind her, turning into a headless monstrosity.

Chiyome fell from Khutulun’s arms, hitting the ground, which elicited a groan of pain from her.

“You…killed him?” Her hoarse voice almost made his heart quiver.

“Yes he did, dear Fräulein.” - She answered in his stead - “He killed the Red Oni in Hong Kong, taking him away from you.” Her hands behind her back and the chest sticking forward made her every word look like it was the absolute truth.

“Not only that, he kept it hidden from you… his flesh and blood.” - Her disgusted expression of scorn and hate softened once she turned to Khutulun - “Join me dear, I will tell you everything and together we shall avenge your brother.”

Khutulun was quiet. After a few seconds, she took her first hesitant step forward. She walked over Fjodor, Ludomir and Eve, almost stopping at the last one, but she pushed onward until she was beside the German woman.

“You have made the right choice, Fräulein.” She assured the masked lady.

When she turned to look at the Grinning Devil, a big triumphant grin was threatening to tear her cheeks side to side. It was such a shame she could not see his’.

“Now, kneel for your execution.” She ordered.

The Grinning Devil obliged, though once his knees hit the ground, he could not contain his laughter anymore and deactivated the mute on his helmet. The sound of his cackle filled the whole battlefield. Everyone showed different expressions: some of confusion and bewilderment… and some of determination. Khutulun took the opportunity to grab the German lady from behind and both dived behind cover.

“You see…” - Started Khutulun while dislocating the other female’s jaw - “The Devil holds no secret for me.”

“Likewise her to me.” Added the Grinning Devil shortly after positioning himself near them.

The German Lady laughed wholeheartedly, drawing concerned glances from the two masked Unknowns. Not even a second later, Khutulun and the Devil were thrown away. The debri they had just ducked behind had been blown away, only the lady stood beside it. With practised movement she put her jaw back into place, her right hand touched the inside of her right ear, most likely to order her troops to move in through a cybernetic implant on her ear. Most of her grey uniform had been torn to pieces, revealing a black, strange looking armour underneath it. The Devil’s attentive eyes picked some strange “air movements” from all over her body.

“Hier beginnt der Spaß!” She shouted before going into a boxing stance.

This was the beginning of the War for Ural Polis.