Re: No Mercy for the Man.
The Cajun crept through the corridors in utter silence. His face scowling yet fearful.
As chokingly humid as the air was, a chill lingered in his memory. Weapon X. Stealing just a diary from a guarded military facility. The chill was so severe that afterwards, he resolved to buy his first trenchcoat. Somet'ing long an' stylish
A glimpse of movement lay ahead. It was an indistinct melding of flesh and metal. Or was it a guard in black fatigues? Remy didn't care; cards flashed towards the creature and it shattered; the explosion's smoke cleared to reveal a pool of blood and oil and implant circuitry.
More Cyborgs came. He lept around them as if they were mere inconveniences. His staff swept towards them, conducting kinetic charges into their metallic exoskeletal armor. An' if you pay enough... you get de pride of de guild... de son of Jean-Luc LeBeau... La Diable Blanc...
Standing in the center of a field of fallen cyborgs; he regained his breath and returned his bo staff back to his coat pocket. You get me.
An' baby, I'm worth every penny.
The cold evoked by the memories only got worse. Charging electricity; grinding machinery; the sound of an animal violently thrashing around in water. Growling roars submerged beneath liquid.
Images of mutilated, tortured corpses floating in formaldehyde tanks assaulted his mind.
The man he saw out of the tank... that man was in the tank now, wasn't he?
"LOGAN!" He cries out. The first human being that was honest and forward with him. The first friend who's friendship was not merely an exploitative or convenient ruse. The best fuckbuddy he's ever had. The man that refused to let himself be controlled; just as Remy refused to be ensnared in the games of the guilds.
His.. non, Remy. A T'ief mus' be pragma'ic. Ge' him ou' of de tank!
The Acadian's long legs carried him up the corridor with absolutely no effort. His coat trailed behind him; flowing like liquid. His eyes burned brightly; rage and shock and absolute desperate hope his friend would be alright...
Reaching the door, he banged on the entry panel. A green readout displayed; BLOCKED BY SHODAN SECURITY SYSTEMS
Remy doesn't even swear. Security systems are his bitch. He simply charges the door and flips backwards; crouching behind the corner.
The explosion rips through the corridor. As he enters the stainless steel room, he witnesses the one sight that his encounter with Weapon X spared him.
Logan. In a tank. More needles than an Iron Maiden stabbing into his flesh.
Frantically, Remy sprints to the control panel. He sees that moment of horror that produced the monster he glimpsed back in Canada. The face distorted, screaming under the water...
A charged card blows the control panel apart and the needles retract skyward. Logan is raised from the tank.
It's still Logan, isn't it?
Or is it the Wolverine? Or worse... Weapon X?
"Logan?" the Cajun whispers. His voice trembles with the fear he felt when he saw that creature stalk across the lab and dismember a scientist...