[h1][color=FF1493]Malcolm Graves[/color][/h1]

Malcolm strolled across the walkways connecting roof to roof. Thus far, no sign of The Ram. How did he turn up last time? Oh yeah, they took on the Crimson... thingy. "Hey Eli?" Malcolm asked. "Where can I find those Crimson guys from last time? Theyre trackable too, right?" He asked.

[color=gray]"Not really, no. None of them are individually powerful enough to show up on the grid. But what you, Ursula, and Nora did last time probably stirred up the area a bit. So you could probably find a patrol if you look around a bit."[/color]

"Right..." Malcolm replied. He scanned the streets below, trying to find any sign of the Crimson Matriarch's soldiers. Nothing on the west side. Malcolm jogged north of the roof. Nothing below. Malcolm decided to walk over to the next building. He heard distant chattering below in this Zone's alien language. Malcolm peered down, and that's when he saw them.

Seven in total. All dressed in the same uniforms as the ones from before. They were each carrying a rifle, save the supposed leader, who went unarmed and unmasked. They were some ways away, and they hadn't spotted Malcolm yet.

Malcolm decided to go the same way he did before. He simply dropped down, and about halfway down he dug his left glove into the building, slowing his descent and bringing rubble down with him. One of the soldiers turned and pointed up at Malcolm, shouting. They all turned, raised their rifles, and fired. The officer merely watched. Malcolm quickly swung his fists up into a block, the bullets pinging and ricocheting off in different directions. Malcolm slowly but surely made his way to the closest one, one step at a time. When Malcolm was finally close enough, Malcolm quickly returned the bullets with an uppercut. The aggressor was not only met with a metal fist but also the electricity stored in his fists too. The officer backed away as his men formed a guard in front of him, two of them raising to fire their rifles while the other three took a moment to reload theirs. Malcolm rolled forward to close the gap to the next aggressor, who was just about to push the clip into its rifle. Malcolm aimed a gutshot to double it over, stunning it with brute force and a surge of electricity before standing up and throwing a punch on the back of its head. Malcolm then felt pain in the back of his left shoulder, he was shot by the aggressor next to the one he just took out. A moment or two passed before he was shot again, a little more closer to the spine but not enough for serious damage, never mind the adrenaline pumping through Malcolm right now. He turned to face the aggressor and took a couple of steps forwards while gearing up an uppercut. Malcolm swung upwards and knocked the gun out of its hands before landing a right straight into its chest.

The remaining three aggressors and their officers reared back. The troopers set their rifles aside, each of them drawing what looked like batons from their belts. The officer's head and hands began to develop thin, rising distortions as he continued to back away. He made a swiping motion with his right hand, and the troopers charged. Malcolm saw the three and he bashed his fists together. "You want more!?" He called out in a taunt. The fastest aggressor swung at his head, which Malcolm responded with a dodge. The second soldier went for a downwards swipe which Malcolm could only lean to avoid. The third aggressor caught him off guard and struck a blow to his head, sending Malcolm spinning backwards and onto the floor. Malcolm struggled to get up, when he got to his hands and knees Malcolm spat out some blood, making a small splatter on the pavement. He stood up and wiped his mouth with his arm, the cold metal brought Malcolm's senses back from the grogginess and he felt ready. He lifted his fists up into his pose. His left hand slightly more forwards than his right. He bounced lightly on his toes. "That all you got?" He asked the three, awaiting their next attacks. Malcolm planned to throw counter punches like his teacher taught him to when he was on the ropes.

Suddenly, that familiar scream. The troopers and the officer lowered their weapons and began to back away. Malcolm darted his vision to and fro as he attempted to locate the Ram. He never managed to spot him before there was a brief quake beneath his feat. He turned his head as it subsided, and there the enemy stood. Hunched over, arms hanging, legs crackling with explosive energy. The two eyed each other for a moment before the Ram slowly began to make his approach. Malcolm went back to his stance, bouncing on his toes and keeping his fists up. The Ram let out a quick yell before charging, turning and raising one of his legs the moment he got close. "Come on!!!" Malcolm yelled back, rolling to the left to avoid the kick. "Not this time!" Malcolm said as he turned and stood up. Malcolm went through his own charge, raising his right fist up. The Ram countered with a punch to Malcolm's gut. Malcolm grunted as the Ram hit him, with such force he had never felt before, and he was immediately on his hands and knees. Coughing, Malcolm weakly raised his head, witnessing the Ram taking a couple of steps back before finishing Malcolm off with a punt to the head, as if his face was a football. For the second time Malcolm was defeated, his vision was black, then similarly went to white.

[center][h1]...[/h1][/center]

[@Horrid]

[color=gray]"Yeah, sure, I'll point you in the right direction. Malcolm's in the area, he should- oh, uh, hold up."[/color]

Eli hit Malcolm's designator to stop it from beeping and rose from his seat. He looked out over the console to the young man waking up in his chair. [color=gray]"Got your ass kicked?"[/color] He called out. 

Malcolm chuckled, "Yeah" He said, almost disappointed. He sat hunched over in his seat for a moment or two, contemplating the fight. How could he beat this... this thing? Maybe the Foreman had something? An equaliser? Malcolm rushed over to Eli's console, putting his hand on the operator's shoulder. "Put me back in there." He requested in earnest. Surprisingly he didn't feel sick like last time.

[color=gray]"Aren't you the go-getter."[/color] Eli responded after a brief pause.

"Ive got a plan!" Malcolm said. "We've been missing weapons!" Malcolm explained. "The Foreman must have some he wants to get rid of, right?"

[color=gray]"If you think that'll change anything, go ahead and take a look around his workshop."[/color]

Malcolm nodded and jogged back to his chair, eager for the next round.

In collaboration with [@SepticGentleman]