At the moment, Aster was sitting on the edge of a rooftop.
It was a tall building. He never really had a fear of heights, but looking down, he could tell that it could be a pretty killer drop. Over a hundred stories up, he always wondered why how he ended up with jobs like this.
He was a mercenary. People in his line of work weren't really people with the highest of life expectancies. Uniquely though, he had somehow managed to survive absolutely everything that could possibly be thrown at him. It'd happened before with super-competent mercenaries(not to say he wasn't competent), but for the man he used to be, he was not suited.
He was born and left alone in a wasteland, and well, he certainly did not carry the wit or shrewdness required for a child like him to survive. Becoming a mercenary at an exceptionally young age, he was basically doomed to end up as a corpse. Yet, somehow, he survived every situation and disaster that befell upon him. Countless perforations and broken limbs, craters left in his body, he developed impossible resilience. Such that he was deemed the "Immortal Revenant" early on as an adolescent. However, by the time he'd gotten such a nickname, he still didn't manage to develop any sort of great cunning. In fact, he had not learned to lie until he had become an adult by eighteen.
Fast forward a few more years, he had learned to be less simple. Not complicated, but enough to navigate the world.
And his name had spread far and wide. The Immortal this, the Immortal that.
It was truly a bother. Such an idea was silly. He got that people didn't seriously think he was immortal, but he certainly felt people thought too much of his survivability. Although, he guessed he didn't mind much at all. Some part of it was true after all.
Sitting on the ledge, he stared at the open box of cigarettes he was holding. He didn't even smoke. Most mercenaries did, so he'd bought a pack in case anything ever happened.
He and everyone always joked that the reason he survived so much was because he didn't smoke.
Pocketing the cigarettes in his pockets, he sighed.
This mission he'd been dragged(guilted?) into. It was a rescue mission to scout and rescue a little girl. He was surprised he agreed so easily. He supposed it was a good thing after all. As the days passed, there was this sense that his humanity was sorta slowly being cooked away with every close encounter with death. It was probably a good thing that he could care about others at all in the end.
The operation... if it even really be considered such was... massive in scale, sure, but it was really more of a suicide mission. The scale of what would be done was immense. A dozen locations targeted by a dozen teams of professionals. Only, he was completely alone. Great faith was placed upon him, apparently.
Oh well, he lacked any complaints another person would have. He was never the calculative type, despite others seeming to think otherwise. Maybe it was his demeanor nowadays that made people think he was untouchable and always a thousand steps ahead.
Oh well. Whatever.
Boom.
Underneath him, the building exploded. It was an abandoned one he'd rigged with explosions to hopefully keep as much attention off of him as possible. Hopping off the edge, he was pulled by multiple wires as he fell and swept past the other building, before swinging back, cutting them as he slammed into it on the other side.
With a smooth roll in the presence of glass, he got up and began coolly walking forward. Looking around, he admired the office environment. It felt sorta homey with its flickering lights. The sorta place where you'd be unbelievably bored working at, but a nice place to run around and make trouble.
It was exceptionally empty. Running through a couple of elevators and a few dozen flights of stairs, he found no people.
He noticed a couple of guys with guns in front of him, standing around an elevator, and cards scattered about, a sign of their recent game. From their position, a building had exploded from one side, as a window shattered, and suddenly appeared in front of them, was a man approaching with mild urgency. Immediately, shots were fired, but none hit, as he immediately rolled out of the way. Dashing around cubicles, he kicked a cubicle wall at them, with it getting shredded apart by bullets tearing through.
He was already gone. Two guys in the front found themselves being shot right in the head, which instead of blowing a hole in their heads, the bullets bounced off their heads, only knocking them out and over. As they both hit the ground, they regained consciousness. As they did so, he stood in the middle of the pack. As they all turned their attentions to him, he was holding a grenade with no pin in it. "Yo. Where's the girl?"
"...?"
The "Immortal" almost(?) rolled his eyes as they all had no clue what he was talking about. "I was never here, alright?"
He dropped the grenade, and everyone was quick to move away as he tore apart the metal elevator doors.
Falling through the building as a bang sounded out behind him, he grabbed onto a ledge and hopped onto it. Tearing the elevator doors apart, he waltzed right through. It was a narrow hallway with a bunch of doors. He was met with two interesting fellows. A white-haired man adorned in a white suit. Contrasting him was a black-haired guy wearing a tight black t-shirt, grey silver-ish baggy pants, and black gloves.
The pair looked oddly professional, even though one wore a more casual look, he still looked focused, concise, clean.
He'd be the first to speak up, "Eh? Is that the Revenant?"
The white suit man exclaimed in surprise, "Seriously? I thought he'd be... bigger? Like Frankstein!"
"Frankenstein's monster. Besides, this guy's already massive, whaddya mean?" His voice was full of disbelief.
"Yeah, but this guy's only a hundred and eighty-nine centimeters. I thought he'd at least be a head taller." Aster's eyes narrowed very slightly at having his height measured so quickly.
"What? Why?"
"I dunno man, maybe the near-death experiences would make him bigger?"
"He's not a S*iyan... and z*nkais don't even make you bigger? Whatever." The man dressed in black took out a walkie-talkie, "Code 21. Violent patient... Evacuate everyone."
Judging from first impressions, the suit seemed to be the more clueless of the two, supplemented by his partner's knowledge, but well, that was just the most surface assumption. Their perception was too good to be making any assumptions. Besides all of that, he didn't have much on them.
For him, there was not much left to do, but start shooting. With dual pistols out, he began firing. Bullets streaked past, as the suit was thrown outta the way by his partner. Standing in the "Immortal's way, the man in black stood against the barrage of bullets. Standing in the rain of bullets, their brows raised in surprise.
"...Rubber bullets? Isn't that too soft?" He was a bit confused by their choice of weaponry.
"You know, these are still coming out of a very real gun? Any normal person woulda evaded." Aster spoke in a phlegmatic tone, tossing the gun at them.
"Can you really even afford to let people live so easily?" Catching the pistol, he crushed it in their hands. He was truly surprised by the "Immortal's" supposed mercy.
"Spare me the talk already." This was an extremely recent change, and yet he'd had this conversation too many times for his liking.
"Alright man, whatever ya say. Key, get em."
From the side, the suit seemed to blink into view. Blocking a kick to the head with his forearm, their eyes met. At a glance, Aster could see there was a killer right there. Bang, smacking the young man away, they were sent straight through a wall. Aster cracked his wrists. He felt them manage to redirect a solid chunk of his strike last second. Unable to hide his displeasure, his eyebrows almost lowered. These two were gonna be a hassle.
Fast and durable, the two were strong. As he'd knocked away the suit, the other came at him. In a slower but undeniably heavier streak of black, they smashed right into him. It was extremely telegraphed and even easier to react to, but way harder to block. Nonetheless, the "Immortal" didn't budge. As the two met, the man in black threw a hook.
The "Immortal" responded similarly, and both blows connected with the other person. To the "Immortal", it felt like punching a block of steel itself. To the young man in black, it was like hitting a 10,000-pound wall of flesh.
Taking the brunt of the impact, the "Immortal" was thrown to the side, smashing through a wall and into a couple of cubicles. Putting a hand on where he was hit, the man in black smiled. "Phew! Jeez, he hits hard."
Blood dribbled out of the Immortal's mouth, as the same happened with the man in black.
Blinking into view and walking beside the man in black, the suit, Key stood, "Mhm. A lil harder than you."
Seriously? Loosening their smile a bit, they sighed, "Fuck you."
Key smirked a little, "How about you go fuck yourself instead?"
Arising from smashed cubicles, the "Immortal" reloaded his remaining pistol, "Heads up, I'm using real ammo this time."
Key smiled as he stood behind his partner.
Bang!
Smouldering in their chest, the bullet lay before falling out. It hadn't even gone through their skin.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A barrage of bullets spewed out, blowing apart the walls around them, it still dealt no damage. Smoke wafted off the black-clad worker. Behind them, the only bit of wall remaining was the wall shielded by his body. "Hahhh."
Similar to the remaining piece of wall, the man in the suit just stood behind the other, having avoided all the bullets that way.
Aster frowned, the black-clad one smiled, and Key's expression was neutral.
Aster exhaled. Putting the guns away, they took a stance. Tension rose, but not much for him. Just an instant, and the tension was snapped away as the battle began. Smashing through walls and cubicles, sending desks flying and papers strewn about, they battled through the floor.
Grabbing the head of the one not named Key, the "Immortal" slammed them into the floor sending them a floor down. The suit tried to interrupt with an absurdly fast dash, but they found themselves colliding with nothing.
The "Immortal" stared down at the hole and almost smiled. Lifting up his jacket, many many grenades were revealed. Pulling a pin they all came out. Bouncing around the body of the darkly dressed worker, they went off consecutively.
Destruction. Not quite a light show, but there was certainly a bang. Shrapnel flew, tearing apart everything in its path and they were covered in smoke.
As the dust settled, they arose from the debris. His shirt was torn, revealing nothing but a couple of small bruises. Aster sighed.
"Never mind, forget what I said about you being soft. Shit woulda been brutal for anyone else, who even carries around that many grenades?" The black dressed man cracked his neck.
The suit blinked to his side as he got up. "So what're our odds?"
"Not... high I guess. Not bad, either. I think." He was unsure of what lay behind the nearly mythical man one floor up.
Key got the gist. "I'll start pushing."
Vanishing, he'd gone up the hole, kicking the "Immortal" in the head. Bearing the full blow of the strike, Aster fired off a couple of hits. The white-haired one remained untouched. Stomping the floor, shattering the ground underneath them, their footing was destroyed. In that bit of momentary chaos, Aster landed a blow to their chin. The white-haired youth had managed to both intercept and roll with the strike as it was being landed, mitigating almost every bit of the attack.
Stepping back, they brought a hand to their chin. Even with most of the impact being voided- they certainly felt the blow.
Then, the shattered floor gave out. Standing underneath as the rubble fell on and around, their partner reared up a punch, unaffected by falling debris. As the "Immortal" came falling, he struck their fist down and sent out a counter.
Both simultaneously knocked each other away. Spitting out blood, the darkly dressed youth took out a cigarette and lighter. Bringing the cig to his lips and covering it, he brought the lighter up. Close to his face with a spark, the flames slowly rose, lighting the white end of the stick.
A breath in. Exhale. A slow and long puff of smoke came streaming out.
"You're disgustingly tough." The man said as smoke left his lungs, "I don't normally fight people this tough. So maybe it's pride or something but-" It was a bit vague as to what he meant, but nonetheless, he justified it, and the infamous mercenary could guess what it was.
"Yeah, go for it. Before you continue, is the girl is here?"
"The girl? Oh, no. They aren't here. And it's basically just us now. Anyways-" He took another drag of smoke. "My name's Bolt. I want to defeat you."
"Good luck with that. I don't even smoke." The "Immortal" said bluntly as two stood in front and behind him.
------
After kicking Bolt's body down the elevator shaft, the "Immortal" took a breath of relief. Turning to look at Key, he sighed, "Ya gonna get him? Fall like that probably isn't likely to kill him."
With a bit of blood covering him, the white suit looked at the notorious merc and walked right pass them, taking off into elevator shaft.
Letting himself collapse to the ground and lie against a wall, the mercenary breathed another sigh of relief. He knew he was gonna win, but it was still a pretty exhaustive fight with two strong enemies.
Standing up, he took a deep breath. Something was wrong.
As he relaxed a little, his senses spiked. Overwhelming danger. Turning around, he intercepted someone's arm. shortly locking and pushing them away. It was a lady carrying a knife.
Before he could react, he felt burning cold metal pierced into his neck. Immediately grabbing the hand of this new messenger of death, they stopped it from moving any further.
Quickly looking over at the face of his aggressor, he saw the face of death, and he couldn't help but find her terrifyingly beautiful.