All matters settled, tests passed, bags packed. Now the only thing left is to figure out how to get rid of the nannies, and then the real trouble can begin. My plan involves traveling for a month and, if no major disaster strikes, heading to the New York Sanctum—I'm going to ask for training at Kamar-Taj.
Waking up this morning, I was ready to hit the road. My security was supposed to arrive at 12:00 PM. Oh! There's the doorbell. Well, let's see who dear old Dad sent me. Okay… now that is unexpected! I understand why he only offered two guards; this guy counts as a whole Navy SEAL team. I get that I'm the sole heir and all, but I'm not exactly heading into a third-world war zone! Why on earth did they assign me Carl Creel? At least the second one looks ordinary—if they'd given me Ward, I'd have the full collection! Though Garrett probably wouldn't let him go; Ward is his protégé and lapdog rolled into one.
"Hello, Mr. Pierce. We are responsible for your security from now on," he said. He kept talking, but since I don't plan on spending much time with them, I'll just log the other guy as "Mr. No. 2."
"Fine. Let's move." Actually, sending Creel might not be so bad. I already have an idea of how to ditch them.
We'd been on the road for about an hour and a half, and I was just waiting for the right moment to bail. First, we had to get out of the city. Done. Now, at every third roadside diner, I ask to stop and go in to order something. The hungry guy sent with Creel has been feasting on burgers and slamming soda so hard I actually envied his bladder capacity. But nothing is invincible—at the fifth stop, he decided to bolt for the restroom. Time for the show. I hope they haven't changed the trigger words in this timeline, or I'm in trouble.
"Creel, sorry, but I need this."
"What?"
"Compliance will be rewarded." He starts getting nervous. "You know it's better to obey!" He tries to reach for me, but with a few bursts of Time Acceleration, I easily dodge. "It's better to obey, and you will be rewarded! You know what's better, Creel?"
"Compliance is a reward."
"Correct. Now, you will forget what I just said. You will remember that I ran away from you, and you tried to catch me, but I suddenly became much faster and you couldn't do anything. You didn't use your powers because there was no threat to my life, so there was no reason to reveal yourself. Do you understand me?"
"Yes."
"Good. Now play the part. And be a pal—subtly prevent 'Number 2' or whatever his name is from reporting this to my father for at least two hours. Then, 'accidentally' find this note under the back seat. Got it?"
"Yes. Creel will be happy to comply."
"Then let's go."
After staging the performance for the roadside cameras, I headed down the highway looking for a ride. Finding a blind spot where a car slowing down wouldn't look suspicious on CCTV, I managed to hitch a ride. Sitting in the back, I zipped my jacket up and pulled my cap low. Once back in the city, I took a taxi to the cache where I'd wisely moved my gear. Waiting for me there were $100,000 in cash, a pistol, an assault rifle, my suit from the Iron Man mission, and a brand new silver Yamaha YZF-R1—I needed a way to get around, after all.
Six Months Later
In a room on a subterranean Hydra base level, a dark-haired guy lay in a pool of blood on the floor. Two bullet holes in his back. Parts of his body showed clear signs of an animal attack.
"So, who put out the hit on me, huh?" asked a man with light graying hair and stupid glasses.
"Which of these brats thought he was the smartest? Actually, don't answer. I'll find out myself. Unlike them, I know that patience is the ultimate virtue."
You're wondering how this happened to me? Well... it all started in a bar in Akron.
I'd been riding between cities for weeks, and the "adventure" idea was starting to lose its charm. The only thing curing the boredom was the bars. For some reason, the further I traveled, the less they asked for ID. I mean, I look 18 or 19, but the drinking age is 21. In previous dives, I could at least level up Psychology by gaslighting them into thinking I was old enough to drink, but here, it was too easy.
I'd been sitting in this bar for an hour, tired of drinking alcohol—I can drink it like juice without getting tipsy—when I noticed an unusual man. He looked ordinary enough, Native American perhaps. But my Intuition was clawing at my skull, saying: Something is wrong here.
To verify my feelings, I stepped into a dark corner and performed a Partial Transformation. It doesn't give many points to Intuition, but I'd feel danger instantly. This shady guy suddenly spun around and looked right at me. I immediately felt the urge to bail. Well, here comes the adventure, I thought, exiting the bar.
Of course, he followed me. How could he not? Turning into the alley behind the bar, I waited for my new admirer.
"What do you want from me?"
"Are you a warrior?"
"What? You mean can I fight?"
"A strange scent comes from you—it reminds me of the warriors, but there cannot be two. How did you receive the Blessing? Answer!"
"Whoa! Take it easy. I don't know what you're talking about. What warrior? What Blessing?"
"You won't deceive me. I feel the scent. Fight!" Fur began to sprout across his body, his limbs elongated, and his face shifted into a feline shape.
"What the hell is this..." Surprised was an understatement.
I wasn't given time to think—my Intuition was screaming. Without it, I'd have no clue how bad things were. Dodging his claws, I began a Full Transformation—Time Acceleration alone wasn't going to cut it here.
"Ha! I knew you were a warrior!"
"Look, why do you keep saying that? Warrior, warrior? What does it even mean?"
"Only the most worthy can become a warrior—it is the highest honor. And only a warrior can save the world. You do not deserve this blessing!"
Nothing was making sense. What was I supposed to do? I couldn't dodge his claws forever. Full transformation drains stamina; I could only fight at full tilt for an hour, or 30 minutes if I kept Time Acceleration on. Considering his speed and the way his claws were carving through concrete, I really didn't want to test my luck. I had to knock him out or run. But first, I needed to lead him away from the bar—no witnesses. There was a construction site nearby; that'll do.
"Hey, kitty, let's take a walk."
"RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!" I didn't like that red glow in his eyes.
Turns out he doesn't like being called that—look at him move. I could barely keep up, dodging his swings. I sprinted, jumped about five meters over a fence, and the "kitty" didn't even care; he just punched a hole straight through the chain link.
I lunged at him, raking my claws across his face. I mangled his nose pretty badly and managed to catch his left eye just before he kicked me off. I went flying deep into the foundation of the building. While I was reeling, the cat-man closed the distance. I barely dodged his paws. Actually, only one paw—once I opened some distance, I realized I had a nasty hole in my side. Taking advantage of my stumble, he pinned me and was about to drive his claws into my heart. I fumbled for a piece of rebar and, without thinking, drove it between his ribs. He let out a howl so high I thought he was some weird wolf, not a lynx or a cougar.
So there we were... standing in the middle of a construction site, claw marks everywhere—mostly his, but a few of mine—staring each other down. His jaw was broken, his left eye was ruined, and I had a hole in my side, a dozen deep cuts, and a missing ear. It was him or me. Where was Plan B (running away) when I needed it?
We lunged at each other one last time, when suddenly two glowing cards flew in from the left and exploded. I was thrown back, and as I lost consciousness, I managed to spot two figures.
"Phili, look, Thomas found himself a little brother."
"Don't call me that, Lebeau, and where the hell is Schultz?"
"Now, don't be so cold, Phili! And what should we do with this one... wait, he's just a kid. Maybe it's his son? Man, who did he sleep with for a cougar to produce a wolf?"
"Just take them. We'll sort it out at the base."