[center][b][h1][color=#44F03E]𝔽[/color][color=#42E93C]𝕦[/color][color=#40E33A]𝕥[/color][color=#3EDD39]𝕚[/color][color=#3DD737]𝕝[/color][color=#3BD136]𝕚[/color][color=#39CB34]𝕥[/color][color=#38C532]𝕪[/color][color=#36BF31]:[/color] [color=#32B32E]𝕋[/color][color=#31AD2C]𝕙[/color][color=#2FA62A]𝕖[/color] [color=#2C9A27]𝔾[/color][color=#2A9426]𝕣[/color][color=#288E24]𝕖[/color][color=#268823]𝕒[/color][color=#258221]t[/color] [color=#21761E]𝔾[/color][color=#20701C]𝕒[/color][color=#1E6A1B]𝕞[/color][color=#1C6419]𝕖[/color][/h1][/b][/center] [color=008000][h3]𝕊𝕨𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕥 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕠𝕟𝕤[/h3] [b]ℕ𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟠𝕥𝕙, 𝟚𝟘𝟞𝟜 𝟙𝟡:𝟚𝟘[/b] [b][𝕊𝕚𝕥𝕦𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 ℕ𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕝], 𝕀𝕟𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘....[/b][/color] The neon screens precariously hung atop the walls of the derelict factory sprang to life, eschewing their advertisements in favor of a close-up shot of the stage. Once again, the entire crowd of Central Square could see the three podiums as two candidates made their way towards their posts. Campbell and Gatch shook hands before parting ways, both eyeing the debate's moderator as they awaited a return to matching wits. A hush came over the crowd, but the resuming of the debate was by no means able to quell the craze of the people of the Reclaim Zone entirely. This was no presidential debate after all. Denizens of the Reclaim streets were never a people that could be silenced. There would always be some argument being fought over, some exchange taking place, or some plan being put into motion. Even with a stage set and decorated more extravagantly than the Reclaim Zone had seen in years, today was no exception, though momentary feedback from the mics upon the candidate's podiums did offer a second of silence. The moderator was the first to speak up. [color=778899][b]"Welcome back mayor Joshua Gatch and councilman Dexter Campbell... We're going to get right back into things with as little delay as possible. The first question falls upon you, incumbent mayor Gatch. Regarding the continual growth of abandoned sprawl in the zone..."[/b][/color] The man trailed on and Gatch soon followed. He hadn't even finished his short speech by the time a number of rowdy crowd members had taken to cheering. The understaffed line of conscript security officers sent glances towards one another. It was clear that they were unsure of how to tackle the raucous Reclaim masses. In the end, however, they would do nothing more than maintaining their line before the stage. After all, a loud crowd was better than a massive brawl. When Campbell was called to respond to Gatch, he stood tall. It seemed like the debate was all he needed to reinvigorate his stage presence and command the crowd. [color=coral][b]"If you want to see what the people of the Reclaim Zone really need, you're going to need to look into the abandoned sprawl, Gatch. It's more than just dead buildings and husks of factories waiting to be turned back into industrial wastelands for megacorps."[/b][/color] Campbell gritted his teeth as he paused. His white knuckles bared down on the sides of his podium. With just his words, the people of the Reclaim had seemed to quiet themselves even further. [i]Was it that they were listening or perhaps just startled by Dexter's commanding presence.[/i] No one could be quite sure about that, though for the first time in perhaps years, the people of Reclaim Zone shared at least one common feature: all had their eyes glued to the stage. Another attack soon came from Campbell after having left the eerie silence to hang for just a moment. [color=coral][b]"And this race, Gatch... This race is about much more than bringing corporate income back to the zone. Look around you— all of you! This isn't just a race about the economy. This is about—"[/b][/color] The last of Dexter Campbell's words echoed around Central Square as he was cut off, but what followed drowned them out, echoing even louder. The explosive gunshot resonated enough to shake the eardrums of every man and woman present, but what shook them even more was the way they witness Campbell's left eye explode in a mist of blood and viscera. He fell immediately. The crowd was sent into a frenzy as the security line all panicked alongside them. People began to scatter and trample one another in their best attempt to flee the one open side of the otherwise closed off square. The violence wasn't through yet. In rapid succession another series of shots tagged the helmets of the security officers. Before anyone could even react and realize that the shots were coming from above, half of the line had dropped to the ground. Wild blind fire started to spray the rooftop opposite the stage. Both the moderator and Gatch had started to flee towards the exit, but the mayor would soon realize his mistake for not watching the rooftop. A figure with his face shrouded in a hooded mask jumped from the derelict factory down towards the crowd below. In the middle of his fall, a blinding ball of white-hot plasma tore through the air, slamming into Gatch's leg, sending him tumbling to the ground out in the open. With blinding speed, the assassin shot towards the stage. It was clear that he was heavily augmented beneath the thick kevlar cloak that covered his body. The security officers that remained seemed entirely concerned with their own safety, leaving the assassin to shoot himself forward in a momentous jump that launched him onto the stage only a meter from the incumbent mayor. Suddenly the life in the Reclaim had entered its own primal state. Injured citizens were strewn everywhere. The crowd was erupting into a frenzied state wherein fights erupted in effort to escape. The assassin stood on stage. Mercilessly, the remnants of the crowd that weren't fighting to flee through the massive crowd were forced to watch the man reach down with a metallic claw, plant a foot on Gatch's chest, and rip the mayor's APEX arm prosthesis from his body. Gatch's pained screams could almost be heard over the terror of the crowd itself. Campbell was slumped against the ground, blood pouring from his skull, but the keen eye of any medical personnel might recognize that he was fighting to maintain life. Consciousness, however, was another thing entirely. Another keen eye might recognize within the crazed masses one particular man, the insignia of the Knights emblazoned on his arm. He fled all the same. A thousand things could be done, but only a God could imagine which could offer anything more than [i]Futility...[/i]