January 7th, 2005
The snow gently fell from the sky, lightly carpeting the alleyway in white. Alan came to with his cheek pressed against the cold stone, covered in snow. His shoulder flared with pain where the bullet had hit him earlier. Strangely, it felt better than it did the night before, as if he'd somehow healed overnight. His breath still tasted like whiskey, and blood was soaked through his now-frozen clothes. Even though he'd slept outside, in the middle of January, Alan didn't feel cold. That heat from last night was still present, and as he stirred awake, his body began to warm up again. Then something tapped his boot.
"Hey," a gentle voice said. "You alive?" Alan's eyes snapped open, instinctively scanning for any threats. A staff hovered over him. It was composed of ornate dark metal segments, and it hummed a deep, unnatural tone as the tip tapped his shin again. Holding the staff was a tall blonde girl, with black streaks in her hair. It was loose, untied, spilling over her shoulders. She wore a black jacket, with some sort of pin with an insignia Alan didn't recognize. Beside her stood a young man, in a similar coat with the same pin. He had short dark hair, combed neatly back. "Oh good, you are alive!" The girl said, breathing a sigh of relief. "That makes this so much easier." Alan started to get up, wincing from the pain, and both of the strangers tensed as if they were preparing for a fight. "Who the hell are you?" Alan said, stretching his sore muscles. The dark haired guy spoke first. "Sir, we're going to need you to come with us." Alan's head swam, and he looked up, eyes narrowed. "You cops?" The girl let out a short laugh. "Do we look like cops to you?" Alan's headache flared up, and he shook his head, as if that would fix it. "Shit, I… I dunno." The guy stepped forward. "We're not police, we're with the Association." He glanced over at the blonde haired girl. "We're here because there was a… disturbance at a nearby bar. We know you caused it, just come quietly and we can work it out from there." Alan laughed sharply, and coughed up a bit of blood into the snow. "Yeah. Disturbance. That's one way to put it." Then, as Alan cracked his back, the air in the alley shifted.
The shadowy figures Alan had spent his whole life pretending weren't real, half-formed silhouettes with too many teeth and limbs, peeled themselves away from the shadows of the alleyway, crowding around Alan. They gathered behind him, whispering in his ears. Sign. Kill. Destroy. Burn. Break. "SHUT UP!" He shouted, and to his surprise, it actually worked. The alley went dead silent. He'd never considered actually talking to them, and clearly, they didn't know what to think of him acknowledging their existence. Alan realized too late that he'd just shouted out loud, at what likely appeared to be nothing in front of two strangers. The girl's staff began to crackle with a red light, and she held it in a defensive stance. "There's… So many of them…" The guy's eyes were wide, and he had assumed a fighting stance as well, fists up. "Avery, get back." And then it hit Alan. They weren't scared of him. They were seeing the shadows. "You can see them?" Alan asked, excited. No one had ever noticed them before, so he'd assumed he was crazy. The blonde girl, Avery, gripped her staff tight, her knuckles going white. "Yeah, I see them." Alan shook his head, getting frustrated. "Really, who the hell are you guys?" The dark haired guy lifted his hands slowly, palms out, trying to de-escalate the situation. "My name is Devon," he said. "Devon Astor. And that's my sister, Avery." Alan's eyes narrowed. "What do you want with me?" He said, voice low. His muscles began to fill with that burning sensation again, and the shadow demons rejoiced, pressing closer to him, bathing in the power. The snow around him began to turn to steam, and Alan's muscles tensed. Avery noticed immediately, and stepped back instinctively. "Dev," she whispered, fear breaking through her voice, "he's-" "I know," Devon said. "Sir, you need to come with us, now." Alan's eye twitched. "I'm not going anywhere with you."
The night before flashed through Alan's mind, and reality hit him all at once. The bar. Tom bleeding on the floor. Marco's gun sitting in his hand, smoke curling out of the barrel. Fire everywhere. Tom is… dead. He shifted his stance, weight settling into his legs. The pressure grew in the alley, and the air heated up again. "Stop this now, or I'll have to detain you with force." Devon warned, and a faint steel rattling noise sounded through the air. A smug look crossed Alan's face, and he prepared for a fight. "Is that so? Well, good luck with that." "Wait, don't-" Avery started to say, but Alan was already moving. He lunged toward Devon, faster than any normal human could've gone. His fist was aimed straight for Devon's jaw. Devon flinched, but he managed to block the hit, taking it to his forearm rather than his face. The impact sent Devon stumbling back, eyes wide with shock. Devon prided himself on his quick mastery of Flux reinforcement, and he'd thought himself practically untouchable. Until now. That hit had cracked right through his reinforcement, and pain flared up his arm. Avery swore under her breath, and swung her staff low, aimed for Alan's ankles. He slid backwards just in time to dodge, and the demons surrounding him shrieked in delight. "Stop- We want to help you-" Alan didn't let him finish his sentence, shoulder-checking Devon into the brick wall of the alley. He gasped, breath knocked out of him. "Avery-" Avery's staff snapped up, its metal segments clicking as she jabbed towards Alan's chest, humming with energy. Alan turned, and caught the staff with his bare hand. Avery's eyes widened. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me." The staff shook, glowing impossibly bright, and Alan yanked it towards him, pulling Avery off balance. She staggered forward, but recovered quickly, splitting the staff off where Alan held it, and cracked him across the shoulder.
The heat in the air intensified, and the horde of demons seemed to appear more real, as if they were being given a physical form for the first time. "Listen to me." Devon called, his voice urgent. "You need to stop. You're feeding those things." His gaze flicked between the shadow creatures and Alan. "You're going to get someone killed." Alan's laugh came out dry. "You saw the bar. I already have." Devon's brow furrowed, and he sighed. His hands came together, and something appeared in the corner of Alan's vision. It was a chain, glowing a deep red, headed straight for him. Alan's eyes widened. "What the f-" He started to say, and then more appeared. They flew in from all angles, wrapping around his wrists, ankles, and torso, until he was fully restrained. Not like this. I'm not going down like this. Alan thought, and that power rose up, even stronger. The air crackled with energy, and one by one, the links of the chains began to fracture. They exploded outwards, dissolving into nothing as soon as they hit the air, and a red fog filled the alley. Alan breathed hard, steam rising off of him, and charged straight at Devon, furious. More chains rose from the floor and walls, determined to stop him, but they were too late. Alan's fist was inches away from Devon's face, and he couldn't react fast enough to guard against it. Then Devon vanished, and Alan tripped through the air where he was just seconds ago.
The demons recoiled, and retreated to the corners of the alley. A new presence had appeared in the alley. Alan turned, and was greeted by the sight of a new opponent. He was tall, wearing a white dress shirt and black pants. Black sunglasses sat on his face, covering his eyes, and he had wild, messy hair. Alan swung at him on instinct, but the man was already gone. He appeared to Alan's left, then to his right, each shift so fast it made Alan's stomach lurch. His fist passed through the cold air, never hitting its target. "Alright, that's enough of that," The man said, now leaning against the wall. "You've caused quite a bit of a stir, y'know." Avery let out a breath of relief, lowering her staff. "Sol, he-" "Yeah, yeah," Sol said, irritated. "And who might you be?" Alan asked, Flux growing in his fists. Sol ignored him, instead shifting his attention to Devon. "You tried to use your chains on that? Devon, buddy, I admire your optimism, but come on." Devon clenched his jaw. "How was I supposed to know he'd shatter them?" He said quietly, clearly annoyed. Alan shot forward, fist driving forwards, aimed for Sol's head. Sol effortlessly caught his arm, twisting it, before landing one punch on Alan's chest. In an instant, the world turned into a blur, as Alan smashed through the first brick wall like it was cardboard. He kept going, crashing through four more before his back cracked over a steel railing. His vision went black, and the last thing he heard was Devon's voice. "Jesus Christ, Solis, I think you killed him!" Solis put his hands in his pockets, and started walking over to Alan. "He'll be alright. With Flux output that high, nothing short of incineration could kill him."