[Center][B][h1]Vanquisher[/h1][/b][/center]

[B]Time:[/b] ERROR
[B]Location:[/b] Quantico, Virginia
[B]Interactions:[/b] Tori [@Meleck]
[B]Mentions:[/b] 
[hr]

Vanquisher beelined through the sky towards the reported incident of a mutants terrorist targeting a passenger jet in the vicinity of Quantico, Virginia. As fast as Vanquisher was, it would take time for him to reach the incident. Sentinels would arrive on the scene first, but in that time he could digest the reporting as they came in. If the mutant was still standing upon arrival, Vanquisher would at least be prepared to face the threat. 

[color=crimson][i]Clint Eric Phillips. Male. 25. Caucasian. [B]Mutant[/b]. Height. 73 inches. Weight. Approximately 200 pounds. Suspected Phoenix Order member or lone wolf Phoenix Order sympathizer. Unemployed. Fled authorities 48 hours ago after positive drug test results for X-Gene suppressing drug, Casper. Target’s last social media posts contain statements of having lost everything and intent to act like a monster with nothing to lose… Possession of the following mutations. Ambient energy projection. Self-propelled flight. Superhuman level physical conditioning….[/i][/color][hr]

Clint Phillips playing with his victims might have been godsent, as it only allowed Vanquisher to arrive at the airport as the mutant terrorist floated toward the flipped and burning aircraft on the airfield's taxiway. The robotic Ultimate had significantly lowered his altitude on approach to the airfield. [Color=crimson][i]No sentinels? Fine. The objective remains the same. Eliminate the target.[/i][/color]

There were no words. No warning. Not a quip or introduction. No poses. Not even a grunt of vigor. And of course, there was no mercy.

Clint was currently elevated a few feet above the asphalt charging his hands up with energy. He aimed to kill off any surviving victims within the downed aircraft. He lost everything and was declared a monster. Now, Clint would show them one. A monster that had no qualms with killing to make things right. A monster that was cold and without a semblance of sympathy. 

And a monster Vanquisher was.

With little loss in momentum, Vanquisher's large hands clutched the back of Clint's neck and slammed him face-first into the asphalt, the impact forming a crater. There was no pause in Vanquisher's actions. Why would there be? From a knelt position, Vanquisher repeatedly slammed Clint’s face into the ground and with his free hand he charged up a thermal beam for a concentrated attack. His free hand radiated with a bright orange glow, the light enveloping his hand.

[color=crimson][i]Sufficient charge successful.[/i][/color]

Vanquisher stood up, still holding Clint up by the nape of his neck. The towering machine easily held him above the ground. Clint’s battered face could barely be recognized as anything except ravaged flesh. Anyone lacking Clint’s durability would be dead after the initial face-first collision into the ground. Clint was alive, but his cervical spine had intentionally been severed by the blunt force of the repeated slams onto the asphalt. Clint could not move anymore… he could not see… he could not speak… 

[color=crimson]“You [b]did[/b] have more to lose.”[/color] Vanquisher moved Clint so his body was facing away from the aircraft. Preventing further casualties than there already were was usually the goal if it could be helped. Once Vanquisher was in the clear, he fired a concentrated thermal beam, burning through Clint's back and out from his chest. Vanquisher dropped Clint who fell limp into the crater below. [color=crimson]“[b]Now[/b] you have lost everything.”[/color] His attention shifted to the burning aircraft. It was finally time to tend to the rescue of any survivors.