Who: Jason [NPC] What: A routine becomes anything but. Where: 804. When: Around 3am early in the morning on Tuesday. Warnings: Nothing terrible. Yet.
When Jason slipped back into the empty halls of the intriguing and infuriating Bellum, it wasn't under the orders or demands by his mysterious benefactor. No, he had his own plans, his own ideas, his own endgame which none of them would ever see. Not until it was too late anyway.
That is perceived fate for you.
Ever since he was younger, back in his days of insanity, Jason believed he was the superior being to the lesser fodder. Humans were merely fleshy meatbags of sustenance who wore the strange skin that made them pretend to be anywhere near his level. He knew better. He likened himself to a god, one who knew his place so well in the world and hated it so much that no one else did. But it wasn't enough. It was never enough that he could just simply know for himself how powerful he was. No, he needed another, someone else by his side. It was necessary if only for himself. Cole would fit that need. Oh, he will.
It only marginally surprised him to enter 804 and view with his hungry eyes the video cameras appeared to be off. Cole likely shut them off after having read his note which he delightfully saw was ripped apart on the floor. No matter. He turned the system back on.
There was a low to high pitched whine, then crackling, then a horrible implosion as the screens blew out, knocking him backwards and off his feet. For a few moments he lay on the ground, dazed and disoriented. Then blinking, he crawled onto his knees, back onto his feet, distantly noting the strange sensation of sharp pain, small pieces of glass embedded into his face.
There wasn't time to process the anger he felt at the betrayal given to him at the hands of his dear friend, knowing the sound was too loud to be dismissed as nothing. Quickly, he made his escape, he vowed to return and show exactly why even favored men do not mess with gods.