[center][b][color=mediumpurple][sup][h1]V O R T E X[/h1][/sup][/color][/b][/center]
[COLOR=Mediumpurple][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3]Bangkok, Thailand[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][/COLOR][INDENT][INDENT][sup][color=darkgray]January 2[sup]nd[/sup], 2052  |  12:07am  |  Streets[/color][/sup][/INDENT][/INDENT]

There was a sickening crunch as rebar met spine, Vortex's improvised weapon coupled with his mechanized strength snapping a poor fighter's spine and flooring him. He didn't pay it much thought as the body hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. This guy barely stood a chance, and he was hardly whimpering or anything, just gritting his teeth and gasping for breath. Vortex sighed, planting the rebar through the man's skull and into the concrete. The kill was already forgotten as he took a moment to look over the target. The building was rather well fortified, he could see gun emplacements, some metahuman troopers, an automated turret or two... It wouldn't be enough. Hell, it wouldn't be enough to stop him alone, to say nothing of the various other assholes they brought along, not to mention Little Luthor.

[b][color=mediumpurple]"Now... How are we gonna get in?"[/color][/b] He asked himself. He had at least a hundred ways to get past such... pitfully mundane defenses. He could probably do it in his sleep, honestly. No, what would be the most [i]fun[/i] way to kick down the door. The sight of a helicopter nearby gave him an idea, and he looked around the nest of goons he'd just taken down for any... toys. [b][color=mediumpurple]"Ooooh, what have we here..."[/color][/b] He muttered to himself, tugging a corpse off of a munitions crate, bisected vertically... that one wasn't him, funny enough. They had a Meta with them, and she wasn't especially accurate with that energy blade thing she could do. He popped the crate open, and a wicked grin spread from ear to ear as he eyed the launcher in the case. He wasn't familiar with the exact model, but it looked awfully new. He tugged it out of the case along with a rocket, gingerly slotting it into the tube as he took aim at the chopper, a holographic display coming over his eyes. [b][color=mediumpurple]"Nighty night..."[/color][/b] He muttered, squeezing the trigger as the rocket spiraled off towards its quarry.

He smirked as he dropped the weapon, clicking his tongue and following the rocket's trajectory with a talon... until he mimed a little explosion with his hand once it slammed into the hapless aircraft. [b][color=mediumpurple]"Boosh..."[/color][/b] He muttered with a little chuckle, that soon became a full blown cackle as he watched the machine spin out and crash into one of the compound's walls, knocking it down. [b][color=mediumpurple]"Ooooh, fuck, that was amaz... Hang on."[/color][/b] He suddenly quieted down, tapping his chin. [b][color=mediumpurple]"I... think that was one of our choppers, actually."[/color][/b] He said to nobody in particular, musing over it for a fraction of a second before shrugging. [b][color=mediumpurple]"...Eh, occupational hazard. Their pay wouldn't be so high if we thought they'd live."[/color][/b] He said with a sage little nod, stepping off the roof... And walking along thin air, his feet glowing with the Void Reactor's power with every step. 

Now to get in. With his rifle he picked off goon after goon, a beam of searing purple cracking out from the weapon, turning whatever flesh and soft matter it touched to dust. It was quite a horrific sight, seeing half of your comrade's head dissolve into a sandy, ashy substance, along with the brain [i]almost[/i] flopping free of the skull, but not quite. Vortex had learned a long time ago that it was funnier when you got your headshot a little off-center, too close to the middle and the whole head would be dust, but clip them by the ear and you only get half, makes them die a lot slower. Naturally by the sixth time they wised up, snipers trying to get a bead on the incredible hovering sociopath, only for him to disappear. By the time they found him standing off the side of a house he'd already partially domed a few more of them, but he would be gone again. This would repeat, and Vortex would be a little closer each time they found him, until whoever was in charge of the rooftop forces was all that was left. Well, he was probably in charge, he was yelling and he wore a beret, not that Craig could understand him. 

The apparent commander (probably a lieutenant of some sort) lost track of him, and given that he was the only one left he naturally started to panic a little, hyperventilating, looking around this way and that, ducking behind cover so that the scary robot man couldn't tear away half of his head with that rifle of his... He actually began to cry a little, drawing his side arm and looking toward the ground while he muttered a prayer... And then he heard a dull thrum, and when he looked up... [b][color=mediumpurple]"Huh. I like your hat."[/color][/b] Vortex mused, kneeling down and snatching the man's pistol from his hands. He began to babble and sob, and while Vortex couldn't tell what he was saying, it was pretty clear he was begging for his life. [b][color=mediumpurple]"Hrm, tell you what. You're screwed."[/color][/b] He said, gently lifting the charcoal beret off of his head, and putting it on. [b][color=mediumpurple]"You ain't getting out of here alive. That's not really up to me."[/color][/b] He said, gesturing out toward the city. Or, well. what was left of it. Even if he spared this guy some other legionnaire would probably paste him. [b][color=mediumpurple]"But this is a cool hat, soooo... I'm gonna kill ya quick."[/color][/b] He said, actually keeping his word against all odds as he kills the man with a few mundane pistol shots to the head. 

He chuckled to himself, tossing the little toy aside as he brought up a little holographic, mirror-like display, admiring his new trophy with a sly smile. He had to keep himself occupied while he recharged, after all. The theatrics had started to put a drain on him. More shouting could be heard as Vortex rolled his eyes, queuing up another [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xVU6o7xg_Lo]song[/url] through his augments as he prepared to engage the reinforcements that were no doubt coming. [color=mediumpurple][b]"Guess I oughta give Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch their little distraction. Lovers of the dark, step into light..."[/b][/color] He muttered the opening lyrics to the song once they kicked in, settling on humming along once the reinforcements arrived. Frankly, they bored him a little. He even made it a little easier for the goons that poured onto the roof from the stairs, only firing his autopistols in time to the music, directing them like some kind of demented conductor. 

It didn't matter, body after partially disintegrated body fell before him as kicked off into the air, stepping onto a wall that wasn't there as he walked down the non-existent surface, looking up through a window and teleporting inside. The soldiers inside fared no better. It was his specialty, tearing through the unprepared like an acetylene torch through butter. What could you do against someone that could teleport and make physics his bitch when all you had was some kinda 5.56 plinker? Not a lot. He went in hard, and he went in loud, very loud. Even if the Junta were aware of other inflitrators, they could not afford to ignore Vortex's carnage. Bodies practically clogged the halls as he just kept killing and killing, smirking as he observed them. They were beginning to crack. They resorted to blind fire more and more, their formations were less disciplined, more desperate. Occasionally he saw one break into a run, and at least one hurled himself out of the fifth floor window just because he thought gravity would be a less sadistic executioner. 

He... realized he might be having a bit too much fun when he remembered the objective. [b][color=mediumpurple]"Ahhhhh, fuck. Where's that Elevator."[/color][/b] He muttered, his augments showing him a path as he sprinted on through the building, occasionally offing a straggler. He found the elevator, but by that point he saw the Little Luthor That Could board it without him, and some... blue guy. He didn't recognize him, he didn't care. [b][color=mediumpurple]"Step aside, smurf."[/color][/b] He said, shoving past the speedster and using his gun to blow a small hole through the elevator doors, enough to let him see through so he could teleport inside. Which he did. He scowled as he watched the elevator descend, a bit too fast to give him enough time to cut through the roof and drop in with the rest of the gang, so he just ran down the wall...

And it was just when the battle broke out that Argonaut, Gunsmith, and Cheshire would here his voice. Unfortunately, it wouldn't be over comms. [b][color=mediumpurple]"Starting without me?!"[/color][/b] He roared, coming up from behind Argonaut and teleporting to the center of the room. To their credit, these goons weren't like the other poorly-trained jack-offs outside, they had enough discipline to draw a bead on him almost as soon as he appeared, which only gave him enough time to fire a burst into one goon before he was gone, a storm of leaden death filling the air where he once stood. From the ceiling he smirked. He'd let the others do the head to head fighting, he had a bonus to claim. The others were... bound to the physical plane. They had to obey the constraints of... space and physical law. Vortex was not so... burdened as they. Were he not here, those Ninjas dragging the General to the back would be making the right call, but... he was. He could see into the General's room, so he could be there. And he was. Once he appeared, he leveled his weapons at the two guards and gave them each a full magazine. He didn't know how capable they were or how many of his void-powered blasts it would take, so he just let them have it. No quips, no shouting, no extra noise.