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From the journal of Renichi Sonada - October 30th, 2007:

[recording begins]

I hadn't been in town for more than ten minutes before witnessing a super-crime.

I think I'm going to fit in well here.

But let me start from the beginning. I've started a journal so I can chronicle my exploits in Freedom City. Why there? Several reasons. It's a hotbed of metahuman activity, so one more powersuited (as far as anyone knows) individual should go relatively unnoticed. For another, despite the presence of other metas that could likely make trouble for me, I remain confident that my strength and speed will be up to the task of keeping me one step ahead.

However, the main reason I am here... is because it's not Japan. Everything there reminded me of what came before. I simply couldn't stay. Here, at least, I've escaped my past, however fleetingly. The pain remains, though. It's my curse and my blessing. It's the only thing that keeps me feeling at all human anymore. My insides might be wires and metal, but I've still got a soul.

Of course, that might be my problem to begin with.

In any case, I made a textbook atmospheric reentry into Freedom City tonight. In retrospect, I needn't have bothered with such precautions. Perhaps because of the presence of so many metahumans, the radar defense systems of the city appear substandard of what one might expect. Either they rely far too much on metahuman support (likely), or they simply didn't want to shoulder the expense of investigating every man-shaped projectile hurtling through the air at hundreds of miles an hour. (equally likely)

As I explained, I hadn't been in town for more than a couple minutes when a fire broke out in the residential area behind me. It appeared some pyromaniac meta had taken it upon himself to enact a ritual known as "Devil's Night". Apparently, the night before Halloween (see attached in-depth opinions on archaic Western traditions) has been designated as "Devil's Night", and is used as a flimsy excuse for causing mayhem in some circles - paticularly supervillain ones.

Whoever he was, his fun was quickly shut down by a metallic man of some kind. (Possibly a synthetic life form as well? It did not appear to me a suit. Too form-fitting.) In any case, an eventful night. An in-depth analysis will have to wait for later. It appears I am about to be accosted by several rejects from a Hollywood gangster movie.

*fainter voice* What did you say about us, punk?!

... Note to self: acquire some other way to make audio entries besides a tape recorder. *Sound of impact, bone breaking, cry of pain* Ah yes, now where was I? My internal structure is composed primarily of ballistic polymers, making punching me a singularly bad idea-

[recording ends]

(Events can be found here: viewtopic.php?f=31&t=67)

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  • 3 weeks later...

From the journal of Renichi Sonoda - November 6th, 2007

[recording begins]

As I sit here, contemplating exactly how my glorious life of crime has gone so spectacularly wrong, I am again reminded of how human I remain within; if not physically, at least in supreme arrogance.

In a classic case of leaping before I looked, I took up a challenge from some no-name supervillain going by the very generic moniker of "Heavy". (I feel I should explain that he had no previous reputation, thus, "no-name", according to the meta community at large, not that he is in fact without a name.)

I lost.


[heavy sigh] I had not previously considered the power level some of the denizens of Freedom City could possess before this point, I admit. A "rookie" mistake, as the English language has it. But even if I had taken more precautions, I still might not have prevailed. None of my blows seemed to affect Heavy in the slightest, frustrating me all the more as I made one last attempt to take him out. Which failed spectacularly as my opponent used my own momentum to smash me into the ground.

To add insult to injury, I now owe Heavy a favor, which I foolishly suggested could be taken out in trade on an upcoming job the man intends to pull. With my luck, I have just agreed to play a hand in mass murder, ensuring the entire population of metahuman heroes in this city will come down on my head. One of these days, I will have to make sure to keep my mouth shut.

[faint speech] Um, sir? You're starting to scare the other diners...

...That day can not come soon enough.

[recording ends]

(Events can be found here: http://www.endlessflight.net/freedom/viewtopic.php?f=29&t=118

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  • 2 weeks later...

From the journal of Renichi Sonoda - November 15th, 2007

[recording begins]

I'm not currently in prison, which is about the only thing that went to plan tonight.

Having finally learned my lesson from the previous two entries, I am sitting atop a rather large building as I dictate my glorious first foray into the world of crime. Or perhaps "glorious" is wrong word. Disastrous? Horrendous? Ruinous? Those might be more substantive adjectives after the debacle tonight.

As one might imagine from my discourse thus far, things did not go entirely to plan. Initially, this was not my fault. For some unknown reason, Heavy placed the staging point for our robbery in the middle of Riverside Park, a heavily trafficked and highly visible area. One might imagine this to be a less than intelligent move, but when you consider that both of us were outfitted in enough metal to build an Infantry Fighting Vehicle, it becomes downright imbecilic.

(Aside: maybe it was his first heist? I should probably find out. I hear Wikipedia is chronicling the various exploits of supervillains these days... with accuracy typical of only the finest in populist websites. Nevermind.)

Once out of our botanical rendezvous, we made towards the Museum (Aside: I should have known before then that something was up. Who in their right mind would rob a museum?) where we made good inroads towards not screwing the pooch so hard it would need to lock itself away with a tube of soothing cream for a couple days. After which, not so much.

Stymied by something as simple as a laser array guarding an exhibit, I made the decision to create a distraction utilizing my innate control over machines, the front door of the museum, and America's predilection for automobiles that would need to loose several tons in order to qualify as Urban Assault Vehicles anywhere else on Earth. I will admit, this deviation from the plan might have been made in haste and aggravation over something so pathetic holding up two people that could have otherwise torn the building in half like a phonebook, but it should have worked.

In any other place that was not continuously patrolled by no less than several dozen super powered beings at any one time, that is. At the risk of sounding petty, is it too much to ask that I might be let free to rob a place of business - or learning, but the place takes donations - without being accosted by testosterone junkies wielding powers that would be regulated in any rational society? The fact that both individuals were female and thus mostly devoid of the former makes no difference.

We were on our way out when the two confronted us and started spouting off about justice and the American way and apple pies or some such nonsense - I wasn't paying much attention, honestly. After a short scuffle, by which I mean there were a grand total of perhaps three or four punches thrown, I managed to transform the entryway of the museum into splinters via the introduction of about 1000 hyper velocity flechettes fired at point blank range. Fortunately, no one was hurt, (Aside: is it too much to ask that someone got grazed by them? That attack is so cool!) and in the confusion of seeing a hollowed hall of erudite introspection turned into so much kindling, Heavy and I escaped through another portal. Handy, those.

Although we accomplished our objectives, I feel we, rather I, have failed on several levels. First, I failed to plan for contingencies. It's not like I could have anticipated the museum would possess security measures that could foil me so completely, but still, I have to "expect the unexpected", or some other meaningless catch phrase that unduly smug people like to rattle off when they hear about these kinds of things. Second, I should always depend on the interference of metahumans in all my future activities. No matter how mundane the crime, it seems these people have nothing better to do.

In the future, I shall endeavour to do just that. I'm still starting out, after all, and I can't be expected to know everything... [sound of a doorknob rattling] Oh, are you kidding me... [sound of a doorknob rattling violently] Kuso! [sound of impact against metal]

[heavy sigh] Though in retrospect, I suppose I should have anticipated that the roof-level access door would be locked...

I wonder if I can remain conscious after a fall from this height...

[recording ends]

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From the journal of Renichi Sonada - November 15th, 2007

[recording begins]

Something has actually gone right since I've been in this cursed city! As one might be able to tell from my voice, I am actually happy, which is rare enough these days to accord extraordinary circumstances to.

I'm recording this on the same day as my previous entry, as I believe finally finding a permanent place of residence warrants special attention. It was after my ill-advised plummet from the very rooftop that now houses me that I stumbled across it. Let me start from the point of my impact... actually, hold on... you know what? I'll let that stand for now, even though these entries are beginning to sound more like a comedy routine rather than a villainous tirade. (Aside: I have now come to accept that Omega has likely never had days like this, but I can live with that.)

I had awoken in an alley behind the tenement block to discover that several individuals were rifling through my pockets - in search of valuables, I assume. Now, in human form I might not be exceptionally strong, but I am inhumanly durable, which they discovered, much to their chagrin. After showing the two the error of their ways, (Aside: I beat them like drums!) one of them let slip that a man in the very building I now stand inside had put them up to rob me as I lay unconscious.

Angered, I marched into the building to show this individual how very wrong he was to think he could threaten me. I will admit this might have been inadvisable, but I was really angry at the time - too much so to think about the possible consequences. My short conversation with "TJ" earned me two neat holes in my shirt courtesy of a low caliber pistol and a new (if incomplete) understanding of "Ebonics."

I revenged myself upon his person by kicking his "stank ass" through a window, prompting a hilarious exclamation of surprise from the man right up until his cranium bounced off the pavement a couple floors below. I can't imagine the fall did too much for his mental faculties, but from the brief time I knew him, he never had much in the way of those to begin with. On quick and anonymous call to the police, and TJ was picked up for illegal possession of a handgun. I don't expect to see him anytime soon, so I have moved into his place and taken it for my own.

All I have to do is talk to the super, and I should be all set. [sounds of a scuffle, yelling in the background] Hold on...

[door slamming open] You dead, fo! [gunfire]

[continuing gunfire] [heavy sigh] I might need to move apartments. Apparently, the American justice system is insufficient to hold criminals for any amount of time - *squark* [sharp thud] Hey! I need that! [sounds of fighting echo in the background]

[end recording]

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  • 3 weeks later...

From the journal of Renichi Sonada - November 17th, 2007

[recording begins]

I walked out of my apartment today and found a pie there waiting for me.

Let me back up a bit. After dealing with TJ again, this time making sure the man was destined for a lengthy jail visit for discharging a weapon inside a building not once but twice in the same day, (hell, within the same hour) I made myself at home. I wasn't afraid of some two-bit hood, and the neighborhood would be better off without him.

Little did I know how much better. From the looks of things, TJ and his friends had been holding the building and much of the surrounding projects as part of their little "empire", pitiful though it was. Without TJ, however, the rest of the gang packed up and headed out. Apparently nobody wanted to pick a fight with someone who bounces bullets off their chests - a surprisingly clearheaded and intelligent decision.

What I hadn't counted on was the gratitude of the people held under TJ's thumb. Though no one has approached me, I have gotten several "thumbs up" and grateful nods from my fellow tenants. The landlord was even surprised when I showed up to pay him! This has been something of an eye opening experience for me. In Japan, the status quo is held as only little less than holy writ. Those under the control of the Yakuza are usually glad it's not someone worse, and deal with it the best they can. Here, however, even an outsider can gain the respect and gratitude of the community through, what I have to admit, was a fairly self-serving act of revenge.

It's not what I expected. I'm having trouble reconciling my chosen path in the light of this. I'm likely going to need to do some... unsavory things to become human again, and the thought of harming people in order to do so is becoming more and more anathema as I live amongst them. I haven't even spoken to them yet, and I find the thought of one of them getting hurt through my actions... disturbing.

[silverware clacking]...That, and this pie is really good. [slightly mumbled] 's apple.

[end recording]

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