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Lantern Hill?

Chimera made a face under her mask that she was sure reached her eyes. But there wasn’t anything she could do about it, they were right. If there was an army of the dead to be had, it was there.

She sighed, placing one hand on her hip as one of the men waved their machete at her. She gave him a an affirming nod.

“Trust me, I have no desire to tell anyone about this.”

Though she was sure Jamie would needle her until she caved and told her everything.

Chimera turned back to the door to leave, she paused and glanced back. She looked down at her bleeding arm then back at the Yardie men. With a single slow wipe of her hand, she wiped away the blood showing clearly the pink flesh of the wound already knitting itself back together.

Without saying anything else she walks out…

 

Chimera mentally curses as she starts back through the alleys. She lets the symbiote withdraw some as she pulls out her phone. She had left her car at the morgue when she started this little ‘investigation’ and now had to backtrack.

 

“Jamie.”

“Hey.”

Came her roommate’s chipper voice and Jennifer sighed, Jamie caught it and sighed.

“You’re not calling to ask what I want on my burrito are you.”

“Afraid not.”

“How late are you going to be?”

Jamie asked with some concern.

“Late. I think.”

Jenn said rubbing her temple.

“I’ll just get dinner Dashed. You can reheat it when you get home.”

Her roomie said trying to sound cheerful.

“Thanks.”

“Just be careful.”

“Will do.”

 

Jennifer hung up and tucked her phone away. She needed to get to the graveyard fast, it was going to be a run, thankfully she keep in shape running. The symbiote reextended itself, recovering her face as she turns towards a main street and starts to run towards Lantern Hill just as fast as any of the cars on it at hour.

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GM

 

As Chimera turned the corner she could hear voices. Thuggish voices, in an Italian accent that may have been genuine, may have been affected...

 

"We're gonna riddle dose Yardie Boys with so many bullets, dey gonna be shittin' lead for weeks Haw haw haw"

 

"Dey gonna have so many holes, you could sieve pasta with 'em Haw Haw Haw!"

 

"Machete Max gonna be lead-ing his tropps from da grave!"

 

"Shhh! Ya know what dey say. He's been makin' zombies..."

 

"Like in da movies?"

 

"Yeah, dumb-ass, like in da movies..."

 

"Fast one's or slow ones? I hope its da slow one's. I ain't much for runnin..."

 

"Maybe you should take it up, get rid of dat pasta-belly?"

 

"You callin' me fat?"

 

Peeking round the corner, Chimera could see two vinatage, polished cars, with a couple of suited mafia thugs discussing the ins and out of zombies. There were a couple more inside the car. 

 

"Shut it... pfffft...." came the call from one car. Maybe the boss. "Just be ready. Machete Max shows his face, I want da...pffft... Tommy Guns ready, boys!"

 

The boss apparently had some kind of tic, blowing out a puff of air every now and again. 

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The run across town wasn’t bad, but Chimera still paused to catch her breath when she reached Lantern Hill. She slipped quietly over the decorative stone wall and in to the graveyard proper. Picking her way through she stopped when she heard voices.

 

Carefully she approached, ducking behind an garishly over designed double headstone, complete with tiny cherubs and grim reaper. She saw the men talking, looking like extras from a Godfather movie.

 

“This just keeps getting better.”

She muttered to herself as she eyed them. She couldn’t let this turn into a cliche shoot out. Someone could wind up dead. The irony of the thought didn’t escape her and she heaved a small sigh.

 

There were several of them, all armed. She was fast, but not faster than a bullet. Her best option was surprise. Chimera chose her target like a predator singling out the weakest looking member of a herd. She picked one standing a bit away from the others. Palming a small rock she threw it across the way, hoping to distract them, even for just a moment.

 

She crossed the distance in a blur as she grabbed the man and dragged him behind one of the classic cars. A brief flash of electricity left the gangster slumped unconscious against the wheel well. Chimera peeked up to look through the windows.

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GM

 

"What the frickin' goddamit bleedin' turdcakes???"

 

The Man inside the car was short, squat - fat, certainly, but the kind of fat that had a certain solidity underneath, with broad shoulders and calloused hands. He wore a blue zoot suit, had a cool tie, and puffed a smoking cigar. He was in his late fourties, one would guess, with a face that was remarkable for a trumpters cheeks and heavy jowels. 

 

"Who the pffft... are you? You ain't no pffft...Machete Max!"

 

He had a tic; a big blow of air and puff of his cheeks, that made him look like he was chewing a pair of pineapples. 

 

He held up his hand, signalling his men not to shoot. 

 

"What you... pffft... doing? Punching one my mooks...I mean...pfffft....bodyguards? You some kind of frikkin' Hero?"

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Chimera cursed under her breath. In her haste she picked the car that still had passengers. Too late to turn back now.

 

She stood up and looked into the car, giving the man what was meant to be a stern look, but it didn’t quite hit the mark.

“You might say that.”

She replied and her eyes flickered to the other armed men, then back to the apparent leader.

“Whatever you’re planing, I’d advise against it. Take your men and leave.”

Chimera tried to sound authoritative. 

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GM

 

"Whatever? Don't that kinda depend on exactly whatever I am whateverin?"

 

He looked out to the Graveyard, lit by moonlight. It certainly was a spooky sight. 

 

"Look, I ain't da one raisin' da dead at midnight. I ain't got no voodoo hocus pffft pocus, brought up a Catholic. Ain't right. Ain't natural. Work of da devil himself, if ya ask me."

 

He turned his eyes back to Chimera. 

 

"Jus' so happens I'm here to Pffft Stop Machete Max from raisin' a goddam zombie army. I swear to God almighty...."

 

The man crossed himself and muttered a prayer. And a pffft. 

 

"You can call me Blowfish. On account of everyone callin me that. Pffft"

 

Every time he ticced, his cheeks swelled up like a rapidly inflating balloon. 

 

"Why don't ya step in, I got champagne, I got cuban cigars, and if ya be so inclined, I gotta proposition..."

 

The door of the car opened. Inside, Chimera could indeed see champagne, cigars. And a Tommy gun. 

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Chimera drew herself up a little straighter.

“I know who you are.”

She couldn’t hide the contempt in her eyes. She was still young and idealistic, and the thought of climbing into a known gang leader’s car and making a deal just seemed wrong.

But she couldn’t help as her own attention flickered towards the deeper parts of graveyard as the little man spoke. She licked her lips nervously behind her mask then looked back down at Blowfish.

“What kind of proposition?”

She made no motion to get into the car, but asked after a moment.

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GM

 

"Jeesh, capes these days. I show dem a little bit of common courtesy, and dey go an spit it right back in my face. Champagne too warm for ya? Lobster salad too cold? Pffft....Pffft...."

 

Blowfish rolled his eyes and got out of the car, champagne  glass in hand. 

 

"Well if you ain't gonna step inside, I guess I'm gonna step outside. Mohammed and the mountain, eh? Anyways...pfffft...."

 

The pitter patter and tic was slick, and Blowfish made no attempt to grab a gun or throw a punch. 

 

"Machete Max is raisin' a Zombie Army. And dat means trouble...pffft....even to a... ah... honest businessmen like yers truly. I gotta civic responsibility to da streets, being a good citizen of Freedom City. So, I gotsta wondering how...Pffft... he's doing it. Now, I know you might not be be so inclined as to pffft believe in zombies, but I can ashorz you, they are real. The question being, what kinda zombies?"

 

"Yeah, slow ones or fast ones!" piped up a goon. Blowfish slapped him round the ear. 

 

"Shut it, moron! I am speakin to dis here cape. Speakin proper, like civilised people...pfffft...."

 

Taking another sip of Champagne, Blowfish continued. 

 

"I reckon I gotta idea. Now, we can stand arround here yammerin and yakkin and pfft pfft pfft... and so's on, but I found something might be explainin how he raisin da dead. Something not so voddooo. Something all technological and stuff. Whats da word...pffft....cybernetics! Dats da word. Looks like you know ya way around all dat techno-pffft-logics, am I right?"

Edited by Supercape
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Chimera crossed her arms, stepping back as Blowfish exited the car. He was being far too polite and reasonable with his attempts at civility. She knew it was only because he perceived her as one of the city’s many heroes. A role she didn’t feel she lived up to.

 

“You’d be surprised what I’m inclined to believe in.”

She muttered but nodded along as the gangster went on. She tried to remember if she saw anything during her examination of the corpse but they hadn’t cut it open at the time. That would have been a later class. At his insinuation towards her level of technological knowledge she could only give a noncommittal noise and uncross her arms.

 

“If what you’re saying is true, you should have notified the police instead of trying to take this into your own hands.”

The irony of her saying that wasn’t lost on her. But this was different… wasn’t it. Chimera looked away into the graveyard.

“That said, I don’t have time to stop you.”

She looked back at the smaller man, her hands on her hips. Sleeve slashed and bloodstained. Her skirt ripped up one side. Maybe she should let Jamie help her with a costume, she ruined more clothes this way.

“But if any of your men try to kill anyone; you know, who isn’t already dead; I won’t hesitate to stop them. Understood?”

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GM

 

"Swell! Ya got... whaddya call it...pfft...An open mind! That's swell, reall swell."

 

Blowfish tapped off a bit of accumulating cigar ash to the ground of the graveyard. It wouldn't be the first time the ground had been fertilized in such a manner, but normally it was from anxious teenagers sharing a first illicit smoke. Bonus points if they were goths. 

 

"Whats all this about killin? We ain't killin. Our little shooters are for... pfffturley pffftersonal pppftrotection. Ya can't blame a man for carrying some lead when da zombie apocalypse is about to hit us, can ya?"

 

"Look, I can tell ya ain't no fool. Another day, you and me might be sitting on da opposite sides in a court room. But this here ain't dat day. If you think I'm a crook, then think about this... what kinda business has a crook got when he's got a walking corpse eating his brains out?"

 

He cast his eyes over the graveyard. 

 

"I ain't gonna ask you to commit no crime, and I ain't gonna shoot da living. I was gonna ask if we could, just today, help eachother. Maybe save da world. You can put my hands in cuffs another time...."

 

The Graveyard was, for the moment, still and spooky. Maybe it was a degree or two colder, but maybe that was just the imagination. For now, the graves were quiet. For now, nobody was doing any digging. 

 

Nobody was digging down. And nobody was digging up. 

 

For now....

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Chimera regarded Blowfish. The man wasn’t an idiot, nothing he said was incriminating and it sounded perfectly reasonable. But she got the sense that he wasn’t the type to hold back if he thought needed to. She was being to see how he stayed in his position. Slowly she nodded.

 

“Agreed. Can’t do business if all your clients are dead?”

She cocked her head and shifted her weight.

“We work together this time. But next time, I’ll do everything I can to put you behind bars.”

She didn’t say it threateningly, more an acknowledgment to the status quo between crooks and heroes.

 

Chimera started to turn towards the graveyard but stopped and looked back.

“Ah, sorry about… him.”

She pointed down at the unconscious henchman.

“You understand how it is. See a bunch of guys with guns in graveyard at night…”

She trailed off for a moment, then cleared her throat.

“Should probably put him somewhere safe before the zombies show up.”

 

Taking a deep breath, she readied herself for… what ever was about to happen. There wasn’t much that could make this night any stranger. Here she was; teaming up with a known crime boss to confront a possible zombie army at night in the old local graveyard.

 

Jamie was going to be giddy when she told her this one. Probably insist on microwaving popcorn… damn it, now she wanted popcorn.

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GM

 

"Dats da spirit!" said Blowfish, glugging down the rest of his champagne. "And ever you want Lobster pasta, just like mama used to make, please come to my new restaurant. Da Pasta Palace!"

 

He wiggled his eyebrows doing some calculations. 

 

"Half price for my new chum! Say, pffft... whats ya name again?"

 

It was dark, but the moonlight still shone, glinting over the gravestones. Against the dark backdrop, Chimera saw a blackness. 

 

Then it was gone. 

 

There it was again. 

 

Silent, crouched, a shadow in the shadows. 

 

Somebody was definately out there... moving like a panther of an unwhite colouration. 

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As much as she liked good Italian, she was hardly going to walk into one of his establishments ‘in costume’ and except a discounted meal.

“It’s a kind offer.”

She said diplomatically.

“You can call me-“

 

Something moved in the shadows, but it was gone in the instant she turned to look. She frowned behind her mask before she caught sight of it again. She resisted the urge to turn to look at it again.

Instead she faked a cough and cleared her throat as she looked back at Blowfish.

“You can call me Chimera.”

 

The dark silhouette still hunkered down in the shadows. Was it another hero? That would be great.

Another villain? Oh, please not another villain, she had her hands full already.

Or possibly something even worse? She didn’t want to even consider that.

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GM

 

Chimera may have spotted the shadow, but Blowfish had not - or at least had seemed not to. What he seemed was - rather engrossed in amicable discourse with a superhero. He said so. 

 

"Dat's great, dat's great. Chimera, eh? Like da Greek monster or something. Pffft. Head of a Lion and Backside of a mule. Eh, I don't know about all dat. Sounds majestic though... real majestic. Pffft. Say, it's a good night! You ane me, having an amicable discourse. Yes, madam - moonlight, graveyards, and an amicable discourse with a superhero. Pffft."

 

Meanwhile the shadow deeper in the graveyard flitted from grave to grave, pausing a moment at each headstone. He had hunkered down, moving quickly but silently. Every now and then it looked like he turned to watch Blowfish and Chimera - but it was too darn dark to see clearly. 

 

But one turn, there was a glint. Something in the shadow's hand. 

 

Moonlight on a machete. 

 

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Chimera nodded absently as Blowfish spoke. For a moment she wondered if his rambling was nervousness. It was understandable given the situation.

 

Her eyes flicked aside as it they walked. The shadowy figure would pause, then move. Pause, then move. It was a little nerve wracking in itself, but she did her best to keep her cool.

Suddenly a bit of moonlight caught something. A glint of metal against the darkness flashed and was gone. But it was unmistakable after the evening she was having.

 

A machete.

 

Chimera tensed, missing a step but quickly recovering.

“I hope your men aren’t too trigger happy.”

She said casually before lowering her voice and adding.

“Because someone is following us.”

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GM

 

"What? Pfft... Where... I can't see nuthin..."

 

Blowfish squinted his eyes, trying to make out which shadow was which. Even with the moonlight, it was no easy task. Intermittent clouds passed over the moon, dulling it. 

 

"Pffft... I ain't gonna be feedin no zombie with my brains. Dat just wouldn't be right..."

 

He pulled out the Tommy gun from his car, checking the ammo. He looked like he knew what he was doing. 

 

The shadow carried moving from one grave to the next, fleeting. 

 

But more worrisome still, the graves that he had been visiting were not at rest. There was growning, the sound of rot, of moving earth, of cracking wood. 

 

And then, a putrified hand reached out of one of the graves. 

 

And then another...

 

The dead were awakened!!!!

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Chimera was trying to keep her eyes on the shadowy figure now. It seemed to move from grace to the next too fast to be doing anything but to mock them, and she thought she was ready of anything.

 

She was wrong. 

 

There was a sound, a rumble, like something moving through the ground. Because things were, graves the shadow had already visited began to stir. The ground shifting and churning by unseen hands. Unseen until the began to sprout from the earth vulgar flowers.

Chimera cursed and took a reflexive step back. She cursed again and stepped forward to assume a fighting stance. The techno-organic tendril writhed along her skin in agitated excitement.

“Max needs to be stopped, quickly. Can your men handle these?”

She asked, ready to chase the shadow.

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GM

 

Blowfish surveyed the scene; for the first time, he actually looked worried. 

 

"I... I don't know" he muttered. "We been huntin' a zombie here, a zombie dere, Machete Max bringing his dead soldiers back ta life. But dis... did is a goddam zombie apocalpse..."

 

RATATATATAT

 

"But we can give if a...pffft... good shot! Let em eat lead, boys!" he shouted at his conscious goons. 

 

Soon the graveyard was alive with gunfire. Panicked gunfire. Bullets chipped headstones, and tore into loose earth. They drilled through zombie flesh, but still the zombies kept approaching. 

 

"Shoot em in da head, boys!" yelled Blowfish, reloading his tommy Gun. 

 

As Chimera ran through the animated Graveyard, she could see Machete Max ahead. A tall man, dreadlocked, glinting dark eyes, dressed in a tank top, sandals, and ragged jeans. Tattoos on his dark skin - tattoos of skulls. In his hand, predictably, was a Machete. And he could see her coming - see her a mile off, despite the shrouded moon. 

 

He pointed the Machete at her. 

 

"Don be messin wit' dis. Vengeance be mine!" he said, voice deep and rumbling, like it came from the soil itself. 

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Chimera had given the gangster a nod before she took off after Machete Max. The gunshots barely faded as she ran, the the tiny thunderclaps echoing across the empty graveyard like a violent storm, or rather a storm of violence. She could only hope on one was seriously injured. Even around here, this much noise will draw attention. And eventually that will mean the authorities soon after. This needed to be stopped sooner, rather than later.

 

She was more than capable of dodging the corpses as they pulled themselves out of their resting places. It slowed her only a little and it didn’t taken long for her to catch up to Max. The tall tattooed man stood waiting for her. He leveled his blade at her as if to emphasize the implied threat. Chimera stopped short of him, but well within range if she had to rush him.

 

“Stop this now.”

She demanded.

“You have no idea the trouble you’re causing. There are things you just shouldn’t mess with, and one of those is the dead.”

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GM

 

Machete Max spun round, brandishing his blade, to meet Chimera. 

 

The man was covered in arcane tattoos, his long dreadlocked hair wound around small arcane trinkets. He had scars, and a fiersome wiry strength, but this was no foolish thug. Chimera could see the intelligence in his eyes. And the boldness. 

 

"How you know de trouble I cause? Ya think about de trouble I cause if I don't do nothin'? Me men getting slaughetered by big man boss over 'dere..."

 

Machete Max pointed his weapon in the Direction of Blowfish, who was still shooting shadows with his Tommy Gun - along with his goons. 

 

"Ya expec' me to sit down, wait for de bullet to com? Ay! You de one who don't know what ya meddlin' wit! Hoo are yoo to gah pawking dere nose in were it not belong, eh?"

 

Machete Max gave a few expert swiped of his Machete. Around him, more of the undead were creeping out of their graves. And yet Machete Max didn't blink. He didn't appear to be afraid of the dead - perhaps not even afraid of death itself. 

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Chimera watched Max, he had dangerous eyes. He wasn’t stupid, just making a very bad decision in her opinion. She opened mouth to say something but she couldn’t think of anything.

 

What right did she have? The only reason she was here was because someone had stolen a body from the morgue. If that hadn’t happened she wouldn’t even be here right now. She wouldn’t be standing in a graveyard at night confronting an undead army with gangsters. This would all just be a clip on the news to her. More crooks killing crooks.

 

And some poor student would probably be dead…

 

If she hadn’t been in Dr Gwib’s class that today who would have been there when that thing had sat up? Would they have been able to get away?

 

“You claim revenge is your motive, but revenge just leads to more of the same.”

Chimera said firmly.

“You attack them, they attack you, you attack them again and on and on. I know I can’t stop it cycle, but that isn’t why I’m here. You two will just keep at it after I’m out of the picture.”

She pointed a finger at Max.

“But I am here right now and your actions endangered bystanders earlier tonight, and I will not let that happen again.”

Chimera made a grand sweeping gesture.

“I will put a stop to this. Here and now!”

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GM

 

"Revenge? Dat taste sweet, but sweeter still be survival. Ya think I raise de dead on whim?"

 

Another arm broke free of the soft soil between them. Skeletal bones, with leathery skin and ragged flesh. 

 

"Me be survivin' and so be me brothaz, fool. Dem gun me brothers down, and I raise dem again, so we can fight. Ay! Dem fools tink they can finish me wit bullets, wit murder. Death just make me stronger!"

 

More soil, more arms. Heads now, too. Yawning jaws, croaking with death. 

 

"Yeh want to stop me? Well come den, see if you can. Me 'ave army now, and me be captain. Yeh can't stop it, no matter de words com from ya mouth. The Machete's ave army!"

 

Machete Max paused a moment. 

 

"Why you wan stop dis? Why some cape care about dead crooks fighting livin' ones. Away now! Let us be havin war so we can ave peace!"

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“Survival.”

Chimera stared at Max. She was aware of the new dead clawing their way out of the ground but stood her firm.

 

“If it was only a matter of survival, it would be smart to get out. But instead you put yourself in this situation. And worse, you drag others into it with you. You both do.”

She swept her arm back to include Blowfish and his men.

“These are choices you’ve made. Choices you continue to make.”

The hint of a growl seemed to creep into her voice.

“You make these choices and then blame others. You could walk away. Instead, you endanger those around you blindly.”

 

Chimera spread her arms.

“Hell, these aren’t even your ‘brothers’. These aren’t ‘dead crook’. These are just the bodies of long dead strangers. More bystanders you’re dragging into this against their wills. Heroes make their choices to fight for those that can’t. So I guess I make my choice here and now to stand against you.”

 

The tips of her fingers lengthen and sharpen.

“Who knows, tomorrow I could just as easily be facing Blowfish like this. But tonight…”

She let the implication trail off as she took a defensive stance. Ready for the first corpse to come at her.

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GM

 

Machete Max was in no hurry. The dead were animating around him, and the longer Chimera took talking, the more zombies there would be. 

 

"I be no quarrel with you, child. But yah no nothin about survival, me see that. Never runnin for yah life, never been shot or cut. Nobody been out for yah blood, nah, 'ave dey? Yah no nothing about survival, because yah never had to survive..."

 

Machete Max studied Chimera more closely. 

 

"From de looks ofyah, yah be armour plated, so yah ain't be knowing about survival, and yah ain't be knowing about fear. Yah never had to fear catching no bullet in yah noddle, 'ave yah?"

 

Machete Max tapped his forehead with his Machete. 

 

"Yah out of yah depth, child. I be doin what needs to be done, and yah be doin' what yah thinks yah need to be doin. But I ain't be cutting yah down, though yah be making a fine zombie if I did..."

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Chimera narrowed her eyes.

“I am not a child.”

She nearly growled.

“You don’t know me.“

Maybe before she left for college she had never been shot at or had a blade swung at her, but ever since she started ‘heroing’ it’s been a different story.

 

“You don’t think I know fear or survival?”

She puts a hand on her chest for emphasis.

“I’m a single woman living in the city. We know all about it. My roommate carries mace and a whistle, and has the police on speed dial.”

Chimera’s anger fumed as she threw out her arms.

“I’ve been shot at, slashed and stabbed, punched and tossed around since I started doing this. And the whole point of armor is because someone is afraid to get hurt. But, you know what? That isn’t the biggest assumption you’ve made tonight.”

Her tone dropped as she leveled her eyes on Max and you could almost hear a change in her attitude.

 

“I’m not wearing armor…”

The silver-grey techno-organic matter seemed to writhe and twisted under the moonlight. Small tendril slithering and lifting off her skin along her arms and legs. The matter of her face mask shifting and reshaping to resemble the image of sharp teeth. Large bat like wings grew and uncurled from her back and spread dramatically.

“I am the armor. I am Chimera, and we are greater than the sum of our parts.”

 

Wait… did I just say ‘we’? 
 

“And I will do what I think is right.”

She seemed to snarl.

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