Impasse Who: Elektra and Deathstroke NPCs: Nibaal el Chirya Where: A small fortress on the steps of Disteghil Sar, Northern Kashmir, Pakistan When: August 30, 2012. Night. What: Elektra comes close to her revenge, only to be confronted by the most dangerous man on the face of the Earth. Rating: PG-13?
War had long since become a way of life in the region. The mountains were lawless, where criminals and terrorists fled in number from the lumbering giants of world power. Here, they could hide and survive. Not all of them, however, were part of a regional cause. Some who hid in the mountains of the Northern Region had interests in keeping the perpetual conflicts strong.
Those like the Hand of the Demon. It was no longer safe to remain in the States, as Elektra had taken out any number of their assassins and agents on her climb to the man that had ordered the death of her father. That threatened her life, and those she loved... which at this point, numbered one man she'd sworn never to cross paths with again.
She had four names. Three of them lead to the heart of large cities, where someone like her would be restricted in movement and access. One lived on a mountainside fortress meant to keep out armies and bandits. One was a viable target for Elektra. There was no stopping one invisible person with her training. This woman would face her. She would bleed, she would talk, and she would be cast to oblivion.
For like all agents of the Hand, the woman called Nibaal el Chirya had forsaken all bonds of family and good will. She'd abandoned the teachings of her faith, and the laws of society and gods alike.
The stars illuminated the mountainside, ice-capped peaks glittering in moonlight, until finally the clouds rolled in and darkness covered the region like a blanket. The stars themselves would turn their light away from this night.
Elektra's actions were swift, uncompromising. Man after man died before her sharpened sais, as swift as a chill whisper down the mountainside. Their bodies lay lifeless across the fortress.
Then there were three. Despite her best efforts, one of the men was able to fire his weapon before her blade pierced his eye and he dropped to the cold ground.
Elektra smiled. It was a clear path from here. She marched into the inner chambers boldly, her red ribbons blowing in the cool night, the brisk air of the mountain's elevation invigorating her.
One more stood between her and her target. Her smiled faded. He wore armor, and garbed himself in water and fire, the colors of a dangerous foe. The wild eyes of his costume stared her down.