The Silence of a Somber Day

Storm In The Making

"Why do I always get the boring jobs?" Tempest muttered into his ear comms. His blue eyes lazily flicked from one end of the hall to the next, hands positioned onto his hand gun on his belt for easy withdrawal. His sniper gun and sword were crisscrossed on his back, and several knives and hand guns lined his sides. His black suit clung to his skin to keep him warm. The suit's chest had a metal lining, like suspenders that cut off a metal belt right where his ribcage began. He wore another metal belt around his waist that kept most of his guns and knives. Another metal ring around both thighs with an extra pair of knives, and his boots had some metal armor to them like the plates beneath them. His face was covered by a mask, with his jeweled eyes being masked by a vibrant red glow. His dirty blonde curls were covered by a dark hood.

Tempest wasn't a conventional hero. He looked more like a spy or assassin than champion of the people. To be fair, he was more of an assassin than a hero. He took orders from the Hero's Association, but not many regular people knew who he was. Tempest was fine with that (he was told to be). He never considered himself a paragon of justice anyways.

"It'll be fine. At least, it's an easy job. What? Two more hours until you clock out? I'm sure someone like you has plans," Scott replied from his end of the comms unit. Former Major Scott from the military, Tempest thought. Scott never told him the story of how he went from a military officer to a tech guy for the top ranked heroes. Tempest wouldn't stop pestering until he got that story.

"Oh, for sure. Big men like me have thousands of women lined up to love me. But I tell them 'no' because the hero life isn't for everyone," Tempest supplied with a cheeky smile.

"You always beat around the bush. What do you do in your free time, Tempest?" Scott asked, his voice dripping with worry. If civilians knew next to nothing about Tempest, heroes knew even less. He was a tight lipped person ironically. Tempest could talk up a storm to match his namesake, but personal information never came to light. Most people had an idea of who Tempest was but very few actually knew.

"I'm not a fucking traitor, if that's what your implying," Tempest snapped, misunderstanding Scott's concern for accusing him for treachery.

If it was anyone else, Scott would have been suspicious at that comment. But this was Tempest. Scott knew better than most just how loyal this hero was. He was the kind of guy who would rather shoot himself than another hero- even the partial heroes that were really assholes like Jschlatt. Tempest was the prime example of why loyalty was only good for the people who the person was loyal to.

"I'm not here to question that, Temp. I was just curious. I don't even know your age so I can't make educated guesses," Scott laughed quietly at how defensive Tempest could be.

"I'm not old like you," Tempest retorted with a snort. He looked around the hallway one last time before deciding to move on. He stepped over the belongings left behind by the people he slayed. When he found something amusing, Tempest would collected it for himself like the kleptomaniac he was.

Unlike many heroes, Tempest used a special type of bullet and blade. His weaponry would send someone to a place he dubbed Spawn whenever he gave them a fatal wound. The police had set up a retrieval point there. Anyone sent to Spawn was captured and sent to questioning. Sometimes Tempest brought himself to spawn when things became too hard or his wounds were extremely brutal. If the wound was from a glowing red knife or a streak of red meant to be a bullet, that villain would be at Spawn very soon.

"I'm not that old, Tempest," Scott laughed. Scott knew his fair share of talkative people and humorous individuals. It came with a territory as the digital aid to many heroes. Tempest, by far, was one of his favorites. Something about the hero invoked a sense of parental duty in Scott. Sure, it was his job to keep all the heroes he encountered safe, but with Tempest, it was more like a personal responsibility.