[sub][h3][center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KnrGMHhnqrw]Henry[/url][/center][/h3][/sub][hr]

[i]Metal spikes flew through the air, whizzing out and past and around him. He felt them impact his hide, burrowing into his scales like nails through wood. But it was dulled and distant. As if it was happening but not. The air was alive with action- raging winds redirecting and misplacing most of the shrapnel. He aimed his gun, ignoring the searing in his shoulder. He felt the gunfire more than he heard it. The subtle shock of recoil from the stock against his good shoulder. Adam was providing cover for them. They could strike back safely now.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw it- the pinpoint flash followed by an arc of electricity. Impossibly fast and equally impossible to evade. It burnt through the air, unaffected by the winds and struck Adam.

Everything was dull, and muted, and gray. Except for the smell. He could smell the ozone and burning flesh clear as day. He screaming something- maw wide and bellowing. His voice had always carried, demanding attention like everything else about him, but he couldn't hear his own words. A rogue spike whizzed through the air and landed true- a direct shot to the skull. Adam crumpled, his body falling limp.

He remembered the smell of blood.

Maximilian shouted, sending his Echo forward. Cindy shouted. He shouted. He couldn't hear what was said but he could see the the pain in their's words. He knew what had happened before he even saw the body.

Up above, there was a groan, followed by the screech of shredded metal. The foundation of a building had been damaged, and was giving way- bearing down on top of him.

There was a crash, and smoke, and dust. He couldn’t see or hear anything anymore.[/i][hr]

Henry startled awake, his enormous body jolting like a compressed spring. The reinforced bed beneath him groaned under the sudden shift in weight, followed shortly by the horrible sound of contorting metal- which only set him off further. He was in Verthaven, closed off from the rest of the world. One of his closest friends had just died in front of him. The devil rose from the abyss below the city and brought nothing but destruction and blood and death and-

He haphazardly struggled out of the bed, his enormous frame collapsing in a heap on the floor. The impact of his weight shaking the furniture and other items in the room. His tail connected with his nightstand as it swept across the floor, sending a picture frame skidding across the room. He scrambled, pushing himself up and away. Thick claws gouged ugly scars into the concrete floor, and he stumbled forward, catching himself on the room’s opposite wall. Henry pressed his hands against the cool concrete. He could shatter it. Tear through it like drywall. This had to be what was left of some collapsed building. Or damaged structure. Or something. He’d get out of here and rally with the rest of the RAVEN task force. He’d get them out of this hellhole of a city. He’d-

He rested his head against the wall and breathed. He felt his whole body flex anxiously.

Verthaven was... god, eighteen years ago now. He wasn’t in danger of being killed, at least not right now. He was okay, he was okay, he was okay. [i]Breathe.[/i]

Henry pushed away from the wall and turned around to face his damaged bed. In the low light of the room the time displayed on the clock caught his attention. Red digital letters saying ‘3:49AM’. His day hadn’t started yet, still plenty of darkness left in the sky, but he wouldn’t be sleeping any more tonight. A glint of reflected light on broken glass on the floor tore his eyes away from the screen, and his heart dropped. The picture frame.

“No... No, no, no, no-“ He said, rushing forwards and kneeling down by the comparatively tiny picture frame, as if his sudden attentiveness would undo any damage it had sustained. He picked it up and sighed when he turned it over in his hand. The glass was shattered, but thankfully the picture itself was undamaged. It was a picture of him, Lihua, Meifeng, Sonya, Trevor, Cindy, Quentin, Cass, Reed, Adam... the Task Force, back before [i]it[/i] all happened. [i]"The red symbolizes the valor of the patriots who fought for our freedom,"[/i] the voice of some grade school teacher whose name Henry no longer remembered had whispered from the recesses of his mind as he peered out from beneath his umbrella at the rows on rows of headstones washed grey by the rain. He'd put up a small tentative hand and asked the teacher, [i]"I thought it was for their blood?"[/i] Well-acquainted with it, even at such a tender age.

He smoothed the picture over with the pad of his thumb, impossibly gentle for someone so big. He had no tightly knit task force anymore, and this battered and broken city was not Verthaven despite the external similarities. This was LA, and he'd be getting a new partner to watch his mountain of an ass in a few hours. Despite himself, he was looking forward to that. It was... nice to not be alone. To have someone to depend on and depend on you. A partner meant they would be essentially glued together at the hips. They'd go to the same places, take the same assignments, eat, sleep, and shit at the same time... For some it was too much, but for someone so far detached from the realm of normal it was a welcome change to not have to go through it alone.

He looked at the clock again.

3:51 AM.

He sighed again. In due time.