Under the cover of night, Los Angeles transformed into a sprawling playground for Mathew. The neon lights reflecting off the asphalt created an otherworldly atmosphere. He crouched low on the edge of an abandoned rooftop, wearing his long vintage hoodie and infinity backpack.
So this is what it's like. Mathew thought with a giddy smile as he stood up, his legs pressed into each while his arms hung out at his sides. I must look like an actual member of the Brotherhood. I'd do anything for a picture of myself right now.
The city pulsed with life below him, but up here, he heard only the whispers of the wind and the rhythmic call of distant police sirens and honking cars stuck in traffic.
With a deep breath, he sprinted forward, his heart racing as he launched himself off the ledge. Time slowed as he soared through the air, the rooftops below quickly approaching. He landed with a roll, absorbing the impact before darting toward the next building. The world fell away—he was fluid and fearless, a shadow amongst shadows.
He weaved in and out of alleyways, vaulting over railings and sliding under barriers, every movement a dance of precision and agility.
The fluorescent glow of storefronts flickered like a heartbeat as he sprinted past; each stride felt more exhilarating than the last. He pushed off a wall and flipped, catching a glimpse of the sprawling skyline illuminated against the dark sky before landing smoothly on the pavement below.
Mathew's path felt like a carefully choreographed dance amidst the chaos of the city. He scaled a low stone wall, the rough surface digging into his palms as he pivoted with precision. With a well-timed leap, he launched himself onto the adjacent rooftop, the exhilarating rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins like wildfire.
As he paused momentarily on the edge of a tall apartment building, he took a moment to soak in the breathtaking view of twinkling lights stretching out in every direction.
The city was alive, and he was on top of the world for that brief moment. Fueled by ambition and the thrill of the night, he set off again, ready to own the urban jungle beneath the stars.
"Man… what a sight."
It's been a week since Mathew hosted the dinner party at his home, which resulted in him winning a new mystery box to complete the event. Within the mystery box was a new skill that almost drove him over the edge from the massive headache he received.
The pain was a small price to pay once he realized what he had received in return.
[You have won: Kyle Crane's Parkour Skills!]
[Parkour: 93]
[Your Speed has improved by 10 points!]
[Your Agility has improved by 10 points!]
It was none other than the parkour abilities of Kyle Crane. A man who had to be one of the best at parkour in order to survive the dangerous creatures his world had to offer.
As a fan of the game Kyle Crane was from, Mathew was ecstatic to have been granted Crane's next-level parkour abilities.
Mathew felt grateful to have won Crane's abilities instead of the parkour skills from the Assassin's Creed franchise.
Thanks to his new parkour abilities, Mathew could now traverse the city of Los Angeles with ease. It was as if the entire city had become his playground.
"All I need is a hidden blade, and I'm set." Mathew joked as he listened to the nonstop sounds of the city. Reaching into his backpack, he pulled out Batman's grapple gun and eyed it carefully. "Hm. Maybe it's time I finally try this out?"
As he stepped cautiously to the edge of the apartment building's rooftop, he tilted his head back to take in the towering structure across the street. Below him, an abandoned alleyway stretched out, its cracked pavement littered with discarded remnants of the day.
Nervously, he aimed the grappling hook at the building's roof edge.
"Here goes nothing."
Pulling the gun's trigger, Mathew jumped as an impossibly fast hook shot out and sank into the roof's concrete surface. Pulling the line a few times, he found that the connection was incredibly solid.
"Now then. How do I-" Mathew accidentally pushed on one of the buttons on the side of the gun and was immediately pulled forward. He was unable to yell or react as his body flew across the street.
In his panic, his fingers pushed a different button on the grapple gun, causing the sharp hook to unlatch itself from the concrete. With nothing to guide or stop him from falling, Mathew's body plummeted to the street below.
"Shit!" He yelled and aimed the gun at a fire escape to his left.
With a sudden jolt, he felt his arm almost come free from his shoulder as he rushed forward, colliding with the rigid steel bars of the fire escape. The impact forced his stomach against the rail, causing him to lean forward in pain. He then rolled over the guard rail and fell onto the staircase floor below.
"Ouch… my stomach… that was stupid."
Forcing himself to stand, Mathew leaned against the brick wall behind him, clutching his stomach. After checking himself over, he felt relieved that he hadn't broken any bones during his reckless experimentation with a high-tech grapple gun that he knew nothing about. At worst, he would be dealing with sore muscles for a few days.
"Batman made it look so easy…"
••o••o••o••
Mathew trudged along the shadowy streets of the San Fernando Valley, the cool night air wrapping around him like a damp blanket. The faint glow of flickering streetlamps cast eerie shadows that danced on the cracked pavement.
In his eagerness to test out his newfound parkour skills, he had ventured much farther from familiar territory than he had intended. Each sound—the distant hum of traffic, the rustle of leaves, and the echo of his own footsteps—seemed amplified in the silence, heightening his awareness of the unfamiliar streets surrounding him.
He had long since removed his assassin hoodie so he could limp along undisturbed.
As he walked, a few other late-night city residents avoided him, thinking of him as a no-good hoodlum considering his age and the fact that he was out so late.
"Same shit. Different city." Mathew rolled his eyes as he messaged his very bruised stomach.
Pulling out his phone, he was about to call Haley for a ride when he saw someone be shoved back into a bush by four other teenagers next to a mini-mart. A nearby scruffy blonde man eating a slice of pizza turned to see the commotion but shrugged.
Mathew raised a brow as one of the four attackers poured a bottle of Pepto-Bismol over Miquel Diaz's head.
From there, the one in the yellow and white hoodie punched Miquel in the stomach. With panic in his eyes, Miquel tried to run away, but another one of his four attackers pushed him onto an old red beat-up Pontiac.
Seeing his precious car become involved in the scuffle, Johnny Lawrence stood up and approached the four.
Mathew watched as Johnny engaged the four teenagers in a fight. The older man moved slowly at first. His movements were rigid but accurate. The man clearly knew his stuff. He was just out of practice.
"Karate?" Mathew muttered as Johnny beat each of Miguel's attackers individually. "Funny. This is exactly the type of situation the system would have forced me to act on."
Sure, the man was bigger and stronger, but it was still remarkable that he could handle himself in an unfair fight against several opponents. It didn't take long for the LAPD to arrive and arrest the man for seemingly attacking a bunch of teenagers.
"Well… things escalated quickly." Grabbing his phone, Mathew found Haley's contact. "Haley? Listen, I kinda snuck out and ended up in the Valley. Can you come pick me up? What? What do you mean I have to carry your bags for the next two months? Okay! Fine, fine. Just… can you come get me?"