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In

[b][u][h1]Ponder on the Past II: Monster Mash at Nuclear One/Betrayal 149[/h1][/u][/b]
Time: What is supposed to be Midnight, 200 years in the future
Location: What was once Arkansas Nuclear One, Arkansas[/center]

The sun started to set over the mountains of Holla Bend National Wildlife Refuge, crimson red colouring the sky. In the fading sunlight, the dark outline of the nuclear power station, known hundreds of years ago as Arkansas Nuclear One, towered over the entranceway. The cooling tower had been broken through the center of it running north-south, the steam that it once produced long since been gone. The remaining buildings that were a part of the facilities were a mixture of complete rubble and ruins, vegetation coming out of windows and doors. [i]While it looks abandoned, who knows what secrets and dangers lie within,[/i] The Wanderer thought, the motorbike that he travelled on silent. While he did manage to get to the power station before nightfall, the journey had been tough. The unforgiving sun had baked the roads so much that fissures completely damaged them and the ground around them. Even with his teleportation abilities to get over the tricky ones, it had been slow going and the fuel that was in the bike ran out shortly after turning off of the I-40, walking-teleporting for an hour with the bike in tow. While it was kind of useless now, he did want to bring the bike back to Settlement 149. But for now, he needed to find where the power source for the machine back at the settlement. That means going through the building and looking for where the nuclear fuel rods are and bringing one back.

Moving the bike to the nearest building, The Wanderer parked the bike up and walked up to the entrance of the building. The entrance was partially filled in with a dead tree trunk that had grown through the steps leading up to it. [i]In another life, you would have become a magnificent tree,[/i] he thought, saddened at the sorry-looking flora. Clenching his right hand, he focused on the tree. He raised the clenched hand up and began opening it. The purple flames returned, covering his forearm. A moment later, a beam surged from the palm of his hand, the purple flames dying down and blowing back from the method. The beam left a hole between the left entranceway and the left side of the trunk, splintered wood scattered all over the floor inside. Without reaching for any source of light, he walked through the new opening into the darkness inside.

Inside, the immediate area around The Wanderer was illuminated, seemingly originating from him. The walls, cracked and caked with dust and dirt, was illuminated to a near-white with a hint of purple in the light. Inside, the corridors were barren, disintegrating boxes and furniture scattered all over the floor. There were some skeletal remains of the unfortunate workers, the fabric of the clothing thread-bare and appearing like it could crumble with a mere touch. [color=#4682b4]”Poor souls,”[/color] were the only words he could mutter. The events that led to the creation of the wastelands had killed billions of people around the world, though what had caused it was unknown to people today. Well, that what it had seemed at Settlement 149 as the people there had no passed-down knowledge of what had happened. The deeper he went into the facility, the greater the sadness of the long-forgotten past grew. However, everything that was around him was only seen through his left eye. Through his right, waves of purple energy were around, the waves appearing calm. While he was still being alert for whatever awaits him in this catacomb, he wasn’t on edge from anything in his immediate vicinity.

When he reached what seemed to be the generator room, numerous metal stairs filling the room to reach the top of the generators, the purple waves seen in his right eye began to ripple. [i]Something is here,[/i] he thought, standing still when he first saw the state of the waves change. His left hand was outstretched while his right was clenched tight. Looking around to see where the source of the energy came from, he slowly walked into the open area. Unlike sound waves, the psionic waves did not bounce around in the abandoned grounds, so the source of the waves would be easier to find. However, this particular source was hard to find, especially as the ripples seemed to never end. [i]Unless…[/i] He scanned around the room, seeing nothing, before looking up to the ceiling. It was then he saw it. While his left eye saw nothing but the dark shapes, his right eye sees nearly-white shapes through the purple waves. The creatures, most likely mutants, were resting on the ceiling and they were probably aware of his presence. If they were, they had not reacted to him yet as both he and them remained motionless. Sensing nothing coming from either side, The Wanderer made his move, slowly moving towards the other side of the room, following where the old steam pipes come from.

Once at the doorway out of the generator room, his left hand reached out to grab for the handle when a large ripple was seen in his right eye. Before he could react, a large hand grabbed him by the scruff of his coat’s collar. Whatever was behind him was large and the force of the throw away from the door suggested as such. As he was launched over the railing to the ground below, both his left and right eye saw his assailant; an 8ft Behemoth. A Behemoth was the end result of both psionic and nuclear radiation of extreme doses affect a large group of people, forcing them into a hulking mass of muscle, heads of the former people scattered around the body. However, the two sets of gigantic arms were very distinctive as numerous tumours were strewn across the surface. The impact of the fall had hurt the comparatively diminutive man was loud enough that it woke up the beings that were on the ceiling. However, as they see the Behemoth in the room, they began to fly away, human-skinned wings flapping straight for the opening in the ceiling. Once the winged mutants were gone, The Wanderer got up off of the ground, looking in the direction of the slow-approaching giant. Through the years of training, he knew a common weakness of the Behemoths: No matter what their design, their large mass had made them extremely slow. They do, however, make up for this disadvantage by the sheer strength and though hide, where in some places had scale patches that were tougher than titanium. Another weakness of theirs was the lack of psionics, despite them being formed by large psionic radiation. Something which suited The Wanderer well.

Getting into a fighting stance, the purple flames returned. Instead of covering his forearm, the flames licked all over his body, the flames small but intense in light. That was not the only thing that The Wanderer had done. On his right forearm, a large gauntlet of purple psionics formed, giving off an appearance of glass. The gauntlet ran down the length of his forearm and formed a disk over his hand. Jutting out from where the fist is, a large, pointed blade formed, a meter in length and made of the same material. Once ready, he ran forward, running faster at a much higher speed than what was suggested for his gear and frame. Pushing off of the ground, he launched himself into the air as he thrusted the weapon towards the mutant’s chest. Unfortunately for him, the beast reacted at a much quicker speed than he had anticipated. The large arms swatted him to the side, crashing through the wall to an office space. 

Groaning, The Wanderer got back to his knees and looked as the Behemoth was lurching towards him. Once again, he ran towards the giant, his boots audible on the metal catwalk. As the monster swung at him again, the man ducked underneath the arms, sliding through its legs while the psionic blade slashed at its groin area. However, as The Wanderer had suspected, the blade bounced off at where the legs meet, the scale plate undamaged from the blow. Getting back onto his knees, he slashed at the back of the Behemoth’s knees, the blade cutting through flesh and bone. Unlike what a creature of its stature, the giant let out a high-pitched wail as it sank onto the catwalk, the tendons on where the cuts were severed from the blow. Making no time for the beast to heal and get back up, the man ran to the door he had reached for, opening it during the mad dash. However, instead of running through it, he turned and raised his right arm to the area of the ceiling above the giant, the blade disappearing. A second later, a beam was fired from his palm. Unlike what happened with the tree in the entrance, he closed his hand while the beam came from his hand. As the fingers touched the beam, the front most point of the beam exploded. The force of the explosion rocked the room. The aged ceiling groaned before it started to collapse on itself. It was then The Wanderer ran through the door. The ceiling fell around, the concrete panels collapsing on and around the Behemoth, burying it underneath the rubble.

Reaching to the reactor room, The Wanderer collapsed onto a nearby control console. His body ached from the hits he took from the beast. That was something he could never get used to, no matter the number of time he has faced those creatures. It was a shame that the man who had taught him on how to take Behemoths out, calling himself Mick the Beast Killer, had been killed by one such creature, ripped in two in a solo hunting trip for the scales they had. As he remained on the top of the console, he looks to the storage room where he thought he saw sign for where the fuel was. While he could check to see if any of the rods were there, he thought otherwise as he fell into darkness, the pain and mental exhaustion exceeding his capacities together.
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[center]Time: What is supposed to be Mid-afternoon, 200 years in the future
Location: What was once Arkansas Nuclear One, Arkansas[/center]
The next day, The Wanderer woke up. The room was still dark, but the sunlight that come from the cracks through the facility crept through them, brightening the areas where his aura is unable to reach. Rubbing his eyes, he slid off of the console and walked to the fuel storage room door. He reached for the handle and tried, unsuccessfully, to open it. Letting go, he punched through the door, grabbing the handle on the other side so he could rip it out of the door. Going through the newly-opened room, his left eye stung as bright light filled his vision. As his eyes adapted to the light, part of the ceiling had collapsed, the dented generators seen in the daylight. Cursing under his breath, he began searching through the containers to find an open one to drag an unused fuel rod out. Minutes later, he had found what he was looking for and it was lugged over his right shoulder, his right arm and hand cradling it. The rod had a lot of weight to it, but his mutant side had made the object seem like it was a baseball bat. Walking back through the rubble of the generator room, he noticed that there was a crater where the Behemoth was, suggesting that the beast had survived the cave in and was searching for him. Luckily for him, the creatures also had a lack of a sense of smell, despite the number of heads that it had.

Reaching the car park, walking through the gap that he created the day before, he took a few steps before he stopped. On the other side, a group of men stood, assault rifles raised and pointing at him while protecting the Humvee they came here with. It took him a moment before he realized he recognized a couple of them and not by the ‘149’ permanent marker insignia that was on the sleeves. [color=#4682b4]”Relax, it’s just me,”[/color] he started, raising his left hand to show that he recognized him. However, when they did not respond back to him and kept the guns trained at him, he knew that they were not here to help him. [color=#4682b4]”I see… Well, I’ll certainly have a word with him when I get back…[/color]

Before he could finish, the men began firing at him. [i]I guess they forgot who I am,[/i] The Wanderer thought, looking at them with an unamused look on his face. With his free left hand, he conjured a near-invisible wall in front of him. Some of the bullets ricocheted off of it, but the majority struck the wall and fell onto the ground, flattened by the impact. Before he could launch an attack of his own, two of the men was suddenly grabbed by the bloodied Behemoth he fought with the night before. With each of its arms, it grabbed both ends of the men and ripped them in half, some of the joints popping before the muscles tore up. “Jesus Christ!” the supposed leader of the assassination group yelped before firing at the beast. The bullets had little effect from where they were hitting as the beast tore through the men and flipped abandoned cars as it gave chase.

Wasting little time, seeing that this beast will be causing him problems in him leaving the place, he propped the fuel rod against the Humvee and began firing beams at the beast’s back, causing it to stumble. As the purple flames flickered all over his body again, he walked up to the beast and fired a body shot to the creature’s left side, sending it crashing through the cooling tower. Giving it no time to get back up, he fired another beam in the gap the creature left behind, detonating it again. This explosion was larger than the one he detonated during the night, the tower’s foundations giving way and causing the giant structure to collapse in on itself. Dust flew everywhere as the tower fell, truly crushing the Behemoth under tonnes of concrete and steel.

As he walked away from where he stood to where the fuel rod was, he noticed the leader slumped against the car. The man didn’t get away from the beast in time and had been struck, his broken body in the crater in the side of the van that he was propped up against. Blood was coming out of his mouth, suggesting that his lungs had been punctured by the impact. While the majority of his bones had been broken by the impact, the soldier feebly raised his left hand towards the man he had tried to kill just moments ago. “Help… me” he wheezed, his raised arm shaking from the sheer strain of keeping it up there.

The Wanderer, instead of assisting the man, reached with his right hand for the holster that was on his left hip. From there, he drew a slightly rusted revolver, a small scope and laser pointer attached with duct tape across the barrel. [color=#4682b4]”You tried to kill me, no doubt orders from The Officer,”[/color] he rebuked. In one swift motion, before the injured soldier had a chance to beg for his life, he turned the revolver on the man’s head and fired. The bullet impacted his head and the sound of the bullet fragments and bone firing through the plastic body of the car. He immediately placed the revolver back into the holster and began loading the fuel rod into the Humvee.

[color=#4682b4]”Now it is time for me to have a word with that bastard.”[/color]