Gryphon

The wind howled between the buildings. Snowflakes fell gently, tossed about in the alleys of air currents. Snow smothered the ground, paths for the guards marked by trenches through the powder. Bright lights reflected off the snow, creating stark patches of white, bordered by murky darkness. The light glistened off the walls, causing the words "Vision Corporation" to shine in the night. These words were repeated along the walls of all the warehouses, each on a piece in a large grid. Through the center path, a large pipe that once transported some substance or another led to the large skyscraper at the end of the compound, a brightly lit summit overlooking the entire array. The twilight sun sank lower every minute, elongating shadows and stealing light.
I blew air into my freezing hands, feeling the receding light not only in the fleeting heat, but in the core of my being as well. I was not a friend of the night. Shadows crept up on me, encroaching upon my domain of light.
I resisted the urge to beat back the dark. My mission required subtlety and the cover of darkness. I could not reveal myself yet.
I pulled my mottled jacket around me. My fingers lingered on the insignia on the shoulder, tracing the familiar figure of a gryphon. I allowed a brief moment of regret, then fought it down. I took a breath, and exhaled slowly. Small crystals from my breath hung in the air, glimmering in the dark orange of the sun before being whisked away by the gust.
I waited patiently until the sun had fully dipped beneath the horizon. Two guards routinely passed by, chatting amicably, staying exactly on schedule, passing through this corridor every seven minutes. It never ceased to amaze me how scarcely humans look up.
As the duo rounded the corner for the fifth time, I raised myself from my crouched position. I stretched my legs out, feeling the blood flow again unrestricted. I shook slightly, displacing the snow that had settled on my back. After a minute respite, I tensed, and leapt across onto the pipe running above the middle of the path.
I caught it soundlessly, and pulled myself up onto the top. I settled into a low stance, listening for any sign of alert. Hearing none, I carefully stepped across the pipe. I cringed with every creak my foot caused, my balance not skilled enough to reduce the stress I placed upon the hollow duct. But I still did not alert anyone.
I was moving too slowly, too cautiously to make quick progress. I sped up a little, crushing the ice that had formed along the pipe, causing my heart to race in panic. As I crept along, patrols continued to move beneath me. The crunching of their boots on snow marked their passage, their voices raised over the moaning of the wind accompanying me on my trek.
Hurriedly rushing along, I tried to discern their number by the sounds of their steps. I could distinctly hear three guards beneath me.
"Have you heard? Supposedly the boss has got a few more buyers."
"Course he does. The guy's attracting so much attention, I'm surprised he's managed to keep this out away from public knowledge."
"Yeah, but you know what that means for us?"
"A pay raise?"
"You would think. But we're probably looking at longer work hours..."
My gut wrenched in fury. My mind faltered back to a past mistake, an error that had led to this...
But that was why I was here. To fix my past regret.
A patch of ice squealed as my foot scraped across the pipe. A more acrobatic individual would have been able to recover quickly, but unfortunately my surprise and clumsiness caused my legs to fall out from under me and send me sprawling over the edge. I flung my arms out and grabbed the edge, holding my entire weight on my arms. A shower of ice escorted me on my fall, tinkling against the ground.
The voices instantly stopped. "What the hell was that?" I could hear guns being primed, the tell-tale clicking of bullets being chambered. I spared a quick look down. Four armed men stood at attention, surveying the area around them. Hmm, four, not three. Must have miscounted the footsteps. The group was back to back, rifles held at the ready. I was an easy target to spot, my body hanging down and swinging in the wind. It wouldn't take long for them to take the time to look up, if they cared to. It was too much to hope that my earlier statement was not incorrect as well.
In a split-second decision, I started swinging my legs, building up momentum. My arms burned with strain. The group below was still ignorant of my position twenty feet above them. Maybe I overestimated their intelligence.
As I gained height with my swinging, the pipe began to screech. The guards below instantly froze.
I gritted my teeth and centered myself. Now or never. Aiming for the edge of the building's roof adjacent to me, I released my grip at the height of my swing, sailing through the air as I displaced some ice, sending a small avalanche onto the guards below.
Unfortunately, like many things tonight, I had misjudged again. I swung too low, and felt myself hit the blunt wall of concrete. The dull thunk echoed through the air. The guards responded instantly, swinging around and bringing their sights up to focus on my falling figure.
All stealth out the window, I gave in to pure instinct, Flinging my hands out, I summoned my wings to me, feeling the familiar tug as new limbs sprouted from my back. The snow shimmered with gold as their light filled the passage.
With the added airborne balance, I swung myself around and landed in a low crouch, the ice cracking beneath my boots. I rose slowly, not wanting to startle them into shooting, but keeping my gaze level with them
I could imagine the figure they were confronted with. A tall man, who one would describe as strong, but not physically large. A short cut of dark blonde hair, hanging low enough to cover hazel eyes, eyes now blazing gold with inner light. A sharp, clean-shaven jaw completed the image of strength, but the ragged military uniform, American in appearance, would offset this. Complete with wings made of pure light, stretched behind me in the wings of an angel, and I was certainly a sight to behold.
At least I think so. Their hesitation seemed to agree.
I made eye contact with each of them, knowing full well my irises were ablaze with gold. I crooked my mouth and let a huff of amusement out. "Gentlemen." And with that, I thrust my arm out at them.
A lance of hardened light struck the poor target in the chest, hurtling him through the air and into the building behind them. The crack of his bones was audible throughout the alley.
Humans have argued for quite some time over the nature of light. It is, in reality, neither energy nor matter, but a mixture of both. Energy that can be manipulated and exchanged, while retaining some aspects of matter, such as mass. Eleprimas have realized this for some time, but humans suffer from an unfortunate lack of aged experience.
Nonetheless, humans cannot comprehend solid light, and so the other three grunts didn't react immediately when their comrade was launched by a beam of pure shining gold. Making use of their hesitation, I launched myself at them, my wings providing a powerful burst of momentum. The world seemed to slow down, as I subdued my human senses and brought my stronger side to bear. I swung my right arm up from my side, forming in my grip a solid hammer. Halfway through the arc, I changed my mind, and the head flattened out into a long broadsword. Unfortunately, I created it at the wrong angle, and I struck my target, a man with a hideously ridiculous mohawk, in the face with the flat of the blade. The force of my launch, along with my increased strength, sent him reeling away, his nose a broken mess. One of his companions remained dumbfounded, but the other, obviously with more training, smoothly brought his rifle up and focused on me. His easy stance and ease of handling spoke of military-level conditioning.
I ducked down and spun around, hearing the tell-tale pops of rifle fire, and sensed more than saw the bullets travelling over me. I swung my left arm out, a tendril of light sweeping his legs out from under him. He collapsed, his finger still pulling the trigger all the way down. As he continued to descend, I leapt forward at the fourth soldier in a low arc. My elbow collided with his sternum, knocking all the air out of him, and propelling us both into an arc and crashing into the ground. His breath exploded from his mouth, and I felt his body cave around me as he broke my fall.
The crunch of snow behind me forced me back to action. I leapt straight up, a good six feet, and spun around at the apex. Mohawk had apparently not given up, and had grabbed his rifle and had it awkwardly trained on me. His buddy Military had found his footing and was once again putting his friends to shame with easy handling. I thrust my hand out, fingers splayed, and conjured a fierce orb of light in my hand. The alley exploded into a harsh golden screen. Both of the soldiers threw their hands up and shut their eyes fiercely, temporarily blinded. Lowering the sword in my right hand, I summoned a broad plane of light on my left forearm, focusing it into an intricate kite shield. Releasing a jet of illuminated energy from my wings, I rushed towards Military, squarely hitting him in the face with a shield bash. My assault forced him to collapse to the ground for the second time that night.
Mohawk released a stream of bullets in a panic, easy enough to avoid. I slipped underneath, and swept my shield upwards, launching him into the air. I turned and began running as I heard him crash to the ground, a short grunt escaping him.
I could hear the shouts of men closing in on me. I was surrounded. But I was determined not to kill anyone that didn't deserve it. While fighting may have been relatively simple, it would be taxing and time-consuming. And my target would undoubtedly have heard the commotion by now.
I ran as fast as I could go, using my wings to make short hops where I could. I could hear helicopters whirring above me, and I would be an easy target to spot. The shadows of the night never were my friend. I ducked around corners quickly, moving away from the closest shouts, but always heading toward the large tower that dominated the skyline.
As I finally neared the base of the tower, I could see men scrambling to form a blockade to the door. My legs burned with strain, but I focused my energy, and sprinted head-on straight to the tower. I could see the large contingent of weapons aimed at me, but as I left the alley into the wide expanse before the barricade, I thrust my arms out behind me, and forced all of my light behind me, in as small a space as possible, concentrated to project force as propulsion.
The resulting explosion was like a second sun, a bright burst of light that illuminated the land for miles around. I was propelled upwards at extraordinary speed, the air whistling in my ears, blocking all other noise. I arced upwards, the tower floors speeding by in a blur of mirrors and reflections of a glowing figure. As I neared the highest floor, I realized I had put a bit too much force into the launch. I curled myself into a smaller position, placing my shoulder in front to take the initial blunt hit. I was able to brace myself just a moment before I sailed crashing through the window in a shower of glass.

I felt a large object strike bluntly against my back, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of breaking wood. I rolled with the impact, spinning across the floor. I couldn't see past my arms, but I could hear exclamations and shouts of surprise. As I slowed down, I kicked up and somersaulted, smoothly sailing through the air in a controlled flip, and landed on my feet in a crouch, crushing the glass into the carpet with the force.
I paused for a moment, the only sounds the tinkling of glass and my own heavy breathing. I fought against my tunneling vision. That launch had taken a lot out of me, and I could feel the fatigue settling into my limbs. Throwing off the exhaustion settling over me, I stood up, ready to fend off any attack.
I was in a posh office, a long mahogany desk stretched out in front of the newly shattered window. The center of the desk was utterly devastated, apparently the object I felt on my landing. The sides of the room were filled with long rows of plush sofas, clean whites a brighter tone than the steel greys of the walls. From the couches, four men of varying levels of fat sat at ease in rumpled business suits, in various stages of toasting or consuming glasses of wine they held. A lone figure stood by the corner of the desk, the only one on his feet. Everyone stared at me in open-faced shock, unsure of how to react to my presence. Looks like I literally crashed a party here.
We stood in silence for an eternal minute, then exploded into action. I thrust my hand out behind me, sending a spinning golden chain to bar the door. Three of the men attempted to struggle to their feet in a panic, sending splashes of dark liquid across the floor. An expensive waste. The only two who reacted differently were the young man behind the desk, who quickly retreated into the corner, and the last man on the couch, who calmly hobbled to a stand, and stood there in defiance.
Physically, he was quite unimpressive. He stood with his hands on his hips, his large girth commanding a decent presence in the room. His dark blue suit covered his ample frame with no visible strain. He tried to stand straight, with his chest thrust commandingly forward, but this only caused his stomach to protrude more prominently, and so he settled for a more relaxed stance.
His dark green eyes searched me vigorously as he pushed a pudgy hand through his sandy blonde hair. He gave the appearance of a man at ease, but I could see the light shining off the sweat on his brow. My heightened senses easily detected his increased breathing rate and slight twitches. My presence seemed to make him quite nervous.
The room quieted slowly, the bystanders realizing they weren't in any immediate danger. I stood still, waiting. He cleared his throat once, then again, with more force. He took a couple of deep breaths, and gave me a weak smile, "Why, Captain Veral, is that you? What a pleasure to see you again. I had heard you were dead." His eyes flicked uncertainly to the left and right, searching for escape or support.
I traced a careful eye over him. "Thomas. Egladene," I replied slowly. He waited for more, but I was not going to be that forthcoming.
Thomas licked his lips quickly and wrung his hands, "What are you doing here Veral? You're supposed to be in- where was it?- Egypt, right?"
I gave him a slow creeping smile, "Yes, Egypt. Fond memories there, particularly ones where I found myself working with your company."
He was visibly distressed now. "Yes, yes, of course. Vision Corporation's PMC division hopefully didn't let you down..." he trailed off quietly. The others in the room had gone silent, quite interested in the events happening right in front of them.
I snorted in derision, "Oh no, they did a splendid job of carrying out your orders. Never seen such... loyalty...before." I waved my hand for effect, and re-summoned my sword as I lowered it.
Thomas drew inward on himself as it appeared, as everyone else's eyes widened in amazement. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the young man in the back watching intently, solely focused on the blade in my hand. His eyes seemed almost hungry, drinking in every little detail. Thomas cleared his throat once more, "So, what brings you here Captain?"
I swung my sword up and around to point at him. "Don't call me that. I lost that title ever since your little stunt. And as for what I want..." I swung the sword around and planted it at my feet, the tip embedding itself forcefully in the rug. Thomas began sweating more intently, his eyes searching around the room for aid. I could notice his breathing increase, rising to alarming rates. I expected him to either scream or pass out.
"I, I, I... I can make it up to you," he stammered out. He wrung his hands in distress. His voice had climbed a noticeable octave. I took a step towards him, and the weight in my hand seemed to increase. I dismissed it as my imagination, and took another step.
Thomas was almost hysterical now, "Please! I can give you anything, anything you want! I promise!" I closed the space between us in two easy strides. I looked down on him, and opened my mouth to rebuke his empty promises. But as I confronted him, it suddenly occurred to me just how pathetic he looked down there. What a sniveling, cowardly fool he was. I had expected to be disgusted, but instead I felt... I wasn't quite sure. Almost empty.
My hesitation was all he needed. Thomas rolled suddenly to his right, extremely agile for a man of his size. I swung my sword on impulse, cleaving the air where he was. Thomas sprang up, and slammed into the wall. Or rather, he should have slammed into it, but instead went straight through, the wall section collapsing inward to reveal a secret hallway.
I cursed to myself, and launched myself at the doorway. I looked in long enough to see a uniform corridor, with Thomas entering an elevator and pushing a button. As the doors closed, he threw me a smug look of victory, soon blocked by stainless steel.
I don't know why, but before I went through, I looked behind me. Most of the room's occupants were rushing to the door, as the chains had broken when my concentration had wavered. But instead of watching them, my eyes made contact with the man behind the desk. He gazed back at me with a soulless gaze. I was overcome with a sudden feeling of foreboding, as an ominous chill slowly crept up my spine. Those eyes were empty. No emotion, no gleam of life. They were the eyes of the dead. He looked at me, and spoke simply, "Vincent Maghold."
I could have replied with many things. I could have been polite, with a simple, "Hello Vincent." I could have been snarky, saying, "Nice to meet you Vincent. Don't mind me, I'm just here to murder your boss." Instead I said the one thing I would never understand. I said, "I hope so."
And with that, I turned and began sprinting to the elevator.

I skidded to a halt before the doors, and let my sword dissolve. I braced myself for a moment, then reached out and began forcing my hands into the space where the two doors met. Straining, I heard the squealing of metal as I forced my fingers through. Then, I began to pry at the doors. Golden bands began circulating my arms as I put more energy behind it, more concentration for the task. The doors buckled a bit, then began screaming as I forced them apart. I looked down into the shaft, the shadows darkening until I was looking into a bottomless pool of black. I could hear the faint whirring of the elevator as it descended. I took a breath, then leapt into the shaft. I didn't bother slowing my descent, and the air whistled past. I pointed my arm down and shot a ball of light that went flying down, illuminating the tunnel until I saw the elevator car ahead.
A loud crash echoed throughout the shaft, the roof buckling under my impact. I could hear someone cry out in surprise inside. I took another moment to breath. Pulling the doors apart had taken a lot of energy, and I could feel the fatigue truly weighing in my arms. Ready to tear through the metal separating me from my target, I reached down, and placed my hand on the roof of the car.
Instantly, my vision went white as a jolt of pain lanced through my head. I choked on a scream, and wrenched my arm off the metal. My knees were shaking, and my arm was throbbing with pain. I growled softly, then forced my body to glow. On the roof I could see faint splatters of blood. A light-protection ward. Thomas had been doing his homework. My gut twisted as I looked at the blood, knowing full well where it came from.
The elevator slowed softly, then stopped. A soft ding echoed through the air as I heard Thomas rush out of the car. I didn't know how far down we had come, but like hell if I was letting him get away that easy. I focused my mind, lifted both my arms, and created a large warhammer. I paused another moment, then swung down with all the force I could muster.
The pain was unlike anything I had ever felt. It was like someone had sliced my mind in half with a rusty cleaver. My vision exploded into a myriad of colors, swarming by too fast to understand what exact color they were. I didn't try to focus on the minute details. I probably would have just vomited. How heroic would that have been. I came to on the floor of the car, with rubble all around me, all that remained of the ward on the top of the car. I hadn't even known that I had passed out.
I pushed myself to my feet, and lurched out of the car, only to collapse again. My vision swirled, and the plain silver hallway tilted precariously. I lay on the floor panting, the cool tile a welcome sensation. I didn't know how long I had been down, but I knew every moment I stayed here was one Thomas was using to escape.
With that thought, I pushed myself up, fought off the nausea with a great amount of will, and began down the hall. I started slow, but as I became more confident in my stride, began jogging, then sprinting. I could see a single double-door at the end, and I charged it head-on.
In the last few steps, I created a barrier of light around myself, a bulwark of shining energy, condensed around my body, and I felt the door give way to it as I tackled it and went flying through.

I landed on my feet in a large room, filled with the sound of buzzing machines. The entire space was cylindrical in shape, large curving walls keeping the room in a perfect circle. The room was blindingly bright, spotlights all over reflected off something in the middle, blasting any shadow in the room away. To my left and right, a railing stood between me and a dizzying drop into darkness below. The whole structure looked like a single turbine, but the usual deafening whirring was absent, only a faint whir buzzing through the air.
But what caught my attention was the sheer energy in the room. I could feel it humming in the air, an extra atmosphere that I could feel in my very being, like every atom in my body was vibrating with energy. I felt stronger, like my weariness was thrown off as easily as a blanket. And that scared me.
I was standing on a catwalk that extended to the center of the room. Thomas was at the end, his back to me, fiddling with something on a single console, the only form of control for the object in the middle of the room..
Looking past him, I gazed upon the sole reason for my presence. Suspended in a cylinder that took up the majority of the center, a woman floated in a seemingly peaceful state. She looked almost about my age, but with dark hair that grew in flowing waves. Her eyes were closed, but I knew they were of dark blue color, like the ocean in storm. She wore a uniform almost identical to mine, except of differing rank, and a patch of an angel in lieu of my gryphon one. She didn't seem to be aware of her surroundings, and it was difficult to tell if she was even alive.
She was just as beautiful as the day I lost her.
I started forward, but the catwalk creaked from the weight I placed on it, and Thomas quickly swung around, a small semi-automatic pistol held tightly in his grip.
Even from this distance I could see his arm shaking, but it still wouldn't be hard to hit me, given my limited movement. Instead I opted for the more "diplomatic" approach. I simply asked, "Why?"
The single word pierced through the air, almost sounding clearer in the energized room. Or maybe that was my exhaustion causing me to hallucinate. I wasn't quite sure.
Thomas barked a short laugh. "Why? Why not? Do you know what you are capable of, and your friend Justine here? Or as you called her, Angel, wasn't it? Was that your idea of a joke?"
I gritted my teeth at this. Justine was another Eleprima, a Lightborne like me, able to manipulate light. She was the only other I had met like me. But she meant more to me than just another one of my kind. "Yes," I replied, "Angel." I heard my breath catch with the double meaning of the word.
Thomas began to breath more heavily, "I'm sorry. I truly am. But after I learned who you two were, what you were capable of, I knew what was needed." Thomas swept his off-hand around the chamber, "This, all this is the future. Your bodies produce enough fuel to keep the entire planet afloat on clean energy for many decades. Centuries even."
I growled at him, "Clean? You call this clean energy? Siphoning her life force for your own personal gain? I know that was her blood decorating the top of the elevator. How do you think the public will react when they find this?"
Thomas looked at me with sympathetic eyes, "Sacrifices must be made, John, you understand that, don't you? After I contacted you during your mission in Egypt, I just had to obtain you two. My PMC was not sent to kill you."
I could feel my heart beat faster. Anger began to rise in me, and I could feel it seep into my words, "Don't call me that. Only one person was allowed to call me that, and she is hanging right behind you."
Thomas paused for a moment, the gun still trained on me. He whispered then, low enough that I had to strain my enhanced hearing to make it audible, "Justine is already lost, Veral. But the public won't find out, because you'll take her secret with you when you're in your own capsule." With that, he quickly squeezed the trigger.
I could guess where he was aiming. He didn't want me dead, that would destroy what value I had. He sought to cripple me. Knowing that, I did the stupidest thing on a long list of stupid, and jumped off the catwalk.
I could feel the bullet whiz past my left thigh, but the gaping expanse below me wasn't much of a different fate. However, I could feel the air, almost crackling with energy, energy released by Justine that wasn't caught by machines, filling the room with potential.
Potential like a gunpowder barrel had potential.
And I provided the spark.
I released a sharp, destructive burst of light from my body, a sharp flash of light, and I could feel it tear havoc with the free energy in the air. The machines all along the space combusted, overloaded from volatile forces. The very air seemed to detonate, raw and uncontrolled energy vaporizing everything in the space. I quickly formed a shell around my body, and angled so the forces would push me upwards. As I rocketed past the catwalk on my way out on the craziest elevator on the face of the planet, I could see Thomas's face, horrified as he watched his life's work, and his life itself, come crashing to an end.
And just before I lost sight of the area and went through the hatch far above us. I saw Justine's face too, eyes still closed in her supposed death.
And I could have sworn she was smiling.

I sat on a rock, about a mile or two from the compound, on a ridge overlooking the valley it was situated in. The smoke from the wreckage was still pouring into the dark night, an even darker stain in the sky, blocking out the stars of the dark universe.
I let out a long breath of air. In my hand I held a patch of an angel, the same one Justine wore. On my escape from the site, I had found it lying on the ground in plain view, remarkably well preserved despite the explosion. It was almost as if I was supposed to find it.
I looked out over the valley, and listened to the winds whisper through trees. Thomas couldn't have stumbled across the fact of what Justine and I were. While I believed he could have devised a way to harness our energy, he could not have learned of our existence through any amount of research. Some one had to have helped him. Someone with knowledge.
I looked at the patch in my hand, and switched it with my gryphon patch in short, jerking motions. The gryphon vanished into my pocket. The angel's eyes were almost mournful, looking out as if in grief.
Looking at the new emblem, it all hit me. Everything that had happened, and what the loss of the generator finally meant. The tears came unbidden, coursing down my face in quick rivers. I tried to hold back the sobs, but they wracked my body anyways. I held myself tightly, wishing, praying, pleading to take it all back, to change everything. To bring her back.
My wedding ring grew heavy around my finger. I didn't want to look at it, but I couldn't tear my eyes away, a dark band of gold swimming in my murky vision.
Eventually, after some time, I was able to start trying to choke everything back. I stood there, rocking myself, holding myself as I tried to remember how I held her. A word slipped out of my mouth, uncalled for. "Justine," I gasped into the frigid air. I desperately tried to recall her eyes, full of light. Her smile, always whimsical before every operation. The way her hair cascaded, laying in bed, the moonlight tracing her shoulder, a silver silhouette tentatively touching her, afraid to disturb her. Her refreshing scent, how warm she was to hold, her melodic voice, the first thing I wanted to hear everyday for the rest of my life...
I forced myself under control, putting it into a deeper part of my mind through sheer willpower. I couldn't mourn properly right now, not in enemy territory. I allowed another small moment of grief, before pushing it down while pushing myself up. I dried my tears slowly, my arm surprisingly sore, while I gave one last look toward the compound, before I turned to head into the woods.
There was work that needed to be done.