[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/YnyLXpw/proto-ace-banner.png[/img][sup][h1][b][color=black] A C E  O F  B L A D E S[/color]
[color=cadetblue]A C E  O F  B L A D E S[/color][/b][/h1][/sup][/center]
[hr][center][sup][color=cadetblue][b]THE DOCKS.
NOW.[/b][/color][/sup][/center]
Night again. I’m sitting on the ledge of an apartment building looking down on the streets, my police scanner tuned to what I’m pretty sure is the right frequency for the Docks. It’s been about ten minutes and nothing yet, or at least nothing I can get to in a reasonable amount of time. I sigh, feeling the seconds tick by as if they’re hours.

As my mind wanders, I recall my encounter last night… Or I guess this morning, saving Marth from his ex. That was my first time fighting another Gray and thinking back on it, I’m surprised at how well it went. I acted professionally, took out the threat quickly and efficiently, then escorted Marth to the school with no incident. I raise a hand to the back of my neck, rubbing the tender bruise where Bruno struck me. That was the one slip up. Shouldn’t have summoned a new sword so soon after dispelling the old one either, I was running on fumes the rest of that fight.

Still, all things considered, I’m doing pretty good at this whole superhero thing. Sure, it’s all small time stuff so far, but I’m working my way up. I think I might have a shot at the big leagues in the fut-

I hear a loud bang down below, not a gunshot but something else. My head pivots to look to the source of the sound, seeing a hooded figure yanking a busted lock out of a rolling shutter. Shit, someone’s breaking into Wireless Hut? I better step in, can’t let Mr. Phone’s store get ransacked.

… Yes, that’s his real, birth name. At least he says it is. I got my phone repaired there a few times.

Damn, think straight Scott, you gotta step in. I climb down the fire escape and leap down into the alley, turning the corner to head into the store. As I step inside I almost lose the hooded guy between the shelves of retro tech, cardboard boxes full of wires and standees from bygone stores. But I can see the hooded guy is already behind the counter, facing the wall. I summon my sword silently, making sure it’s blunt, then rear my hand back to throw it.

Time to shine.

[color=cadetblue][b]“Mind if I cut in?”[/b][/color] I say, and throw my dulled sword. Hoodie tilts his head and dodges it by a fraction, the blade sailing past him and slamming against the big old Tecsun FM unit, crumpling its plastic frame. Hoodie looks at the sword for a beat as it slips off and clatters to the ground, before turning around and cracking his knuckles.

[color=cadetblue][b]“Fuck,”[/b][/color] I mutter under my breath. I [i]have[/i] to stop throwing them like that. Suddenly, something in the radio connects and the store’s speakers spark to life.

[color=gray][i]“Thiiiiis is 99.9, Calder County Classic Rock! Bringing you the Godfather of Punk himself, Iggy Pop!”[/i][/color]

[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vYZ-n8L0AaI]Music fills my ears[/url] and Hoodie gestures for me to come at him. I can tell from the way he’s standing this isn’t his first fight. I need to get past him and grab my sword, summoning another one would wipe me out. But I have a couple inches on him, and I’m decked out in thick biker leather. I can probably truck right through him.

I run forward and Hoodie pops up on the counter. I go to juke him but he kicks me hard in the chest and I crash into a row of shelves, a box of flip phones tumbling off and slamming into the back of my neck. My bruise throbs and I hiss in pain, lifting my head just in time to see a fist slam into my gut.

I don’t even have time to throw a punch back. By the time I even lift a hand, he’s thrown too many punches for me to count, and I can’t even throw a punch back because my fist is batted away like a fly. This time a fist crashes into the visor of my helmet, shattering it and sending a shard of glass digging into my cheek.

I can’t do this. I need the sword. I need to get to the sword. Please, god, please, just let me-

I don’t even feel the sword dissipating and reappearing. One second it was behind the counter, the next it’s in my hand. As Hoodie throws another fist into my chest, I slam the dulled blade into his side and he grunts, pulling back and putting his guard up. I sidestep away from the shelf and put some distance between us, keeping my sword at the ready.

He grabs a spinner rack of key chains off the counter and throws it at me in one smooth motion. There’s maybe an instant for me to react but I manage to do so just in time, swinging my sword at the display and batting it aside. In that split second he’s already on me again, his fists seeming to fly at me even faster now.

His strikes are coming so quickly that I can’t block them all. He throws a right and I hold up the flat of my sword to counter it, but it’s a feint. I see the real strike coming and --

I’m on the ground, ears ringing. I see the lights coming through the chipping visor in my helmet. Did he knock me out? For how long? I realize the song has only skipped a half second. My eyes open in time to see him holding his leg up at an impossible angle, almost above his head, ready to crack my skull open like an egg. I roll out of the way and try not to fill my helmet with vomit.

I realize I have to turn this around right now or I could die, right here, on the linoleum tile of the damn Wireless Hut next to the bootleg DVDs. Hoodie raises his leg for another stomp and I know he won’t let me dodge again.

I bring my sword up from the tile and catch him in the thigh. He shouts and stumbles off his balance. I try to trip him up but he bounces backwards and throws up his guard again, giving me the space I need to push back up, supporting myself with the tip of my blade against the ground.

He doesn’t jump back on me right away, just stands there bobbing on the balls of his feet. He probably doesn’t want to get hit by the sword again. Considering what he just did to me, I’m hoping it hurt pretty fucking bad. Maybe I can end this.

[color=cadetblue][b]“Still got enough in you for another round? Because I do!”[/b][/color] I swing my sword forward in a killer arc, if it was any sharper it’d take Hoodie’s head clean off. But he doesn’t dodge, he throws himself closer, inside the reach of the blade and catches it close to the handle.

My breath catches in my throat and we struggle over it, but he already has the better position. He presses the crossguard into my hand and I feel the force travel up my arm, twisting my shoulder back so far I swear it's about to pop out. I drop to my knees and the sword drops out of my grip as my hand goes numb. I’m finished.

I look up at the guy who’s about to put an end to my superheroic career, holding my sword blade-first over my head like a guillotine, and see that his hood fell back in the scuffle. I realize I recognize him. He looks a lot older than the last time I saw him, and a lot different under the Wireless Hut’s cheap fluorescent lightning compared to the scattered sunlight of the Vanguard family cookouts.

[color=cadetblue][b]“Wait, wait!”[/b][/color] I hold up my hands. [color=cadetblue][b]“Rock! It’s me! Scott! Scott Knight!”[/b][/color]

Rock holds firm in his stance. [color=green]“I know. You done?”[/color] He [i]knows[/i]!?

[color=cadetblue][b]“Y-yes?”[/b][/color] I keep my hands up, bracing for the next hit.

Rock drops the sword and turns, heading deeper into the store, past rows of mouldering consoles and ancient adapters. I work to get to my feet, struggling past the stabbing pain in my chest and the ringing in my head. Do I feel a broken rib? How many are broken? Am I concussed?

[color=cadetblue][b]“You-you [i]knew[/i]?”[/b][/color] I ask, stumbling after him.

[color=green]“Once I saw the sword,”[/color] Rock says.

[color=cadetblue][b]“And you still…?”[/b][/color]

Rock meets my eyes through the crack in my visor. [color=green]“Someone wants a fight? I give them a fight.”[/color] He sticks his hand into the edge of a wall tile and works to pull it off. [color=green]“You’re not cut out for this shit, Scott. Quit while you’re ahead. Or you’ll end up dead.”[/color]

I can’t even argue with that. I got my shit rocked, pun intended. Bodega burglars and stalker exes are one thing, but Rock is on a whole other level. I’m just lucky it was him and not someone who actually would have killed me… And then it hits me what he might mean, thinking back on the Mountain’s statue in Memorial Park that was just unveiled yesterday: maybe he doesn’t want to see any more people he knows dead.

He drops the tile and it cracks against the ground. There’s a panel underneath, a dark blue screen crisscrossed with glowing lines, like some spy movie gadget. Rock puts his palm against it and it hums for a moment, sending a light up and down his prints. Then it flashes red and beeps angrily.

[color=green]“Ugh,”[/color] Rock groans, [color=green]“must have aged out of the biometrics. Hand’s too big.”[/color] He slides the panel up to reveal an old fashioned keypad. He punches in the pin too fast for me to even make out what keys he pressed.

The music cuts out. [color=gray]“Welcome, [u]MOUNTAIN[/u],”[/color] a flat robotic voice announces.

[color=cadetblue][b]“Why is this in Mr. Phone’s store?”[/b][/color] I ask as a wall mounted display of CRT monitors slides up and away, disappearing into the ceiling. I see there’s a cavity in the wall, shelves and pegboards chock full of superhero gear. It’s a treasure trove, all the stuff I would have seen The Mountain using on TV and more.

[color=green]“Saw kept spots like this one all over the city,”[/color] Rock said, [color=green]“some were for general Vanguard use, but this one was Saw’s. Phone is his cousin.”[/color]

Okay, I [i]have[/i] to ask. [color=cadetblue][b]“... Is Mr. Phone really his name?”[/b][/color]

Rock doesn’t dignify the question with a response. I just stare at him as he swipes a dull metal utility belt off the shelf and checks its compartments. He goes to put it around his waist, but it doesn’t wrap all the way around him. I realize it must be the same one he used as a kid, left to collect dust for all these years. Instead he throws it over his back like a bandolier and clicks it shut around the crook of his shoulder.

[color=green]“You’re still here?”[/color] Rock looks back at me.

[color=cadetblue][b]“I’m not quitting this…”[/b][/color] I say. [color=cadetblue][b]“I… Can’t.”[/b][/color]

[color=green]“Your funeral,”[/color] Rock says, with the gravity of someone who has just come from one.

[color=cadetblue][b]“I realize that,”[/b][/color] I say. [color=cadetblue][b]“This isn’t a life that ends peacefully. I’m ready to die for something… Good.”[/b][/color]

Rock shakes his head. [color=green]“You sound like him. Idealistic idiot.”[/color] He reaches into the compartment and pulls out something dark with a shiny tip. He shoves it into my hands.

[color=cadetblue][b]“Is this a…?”[/b][/color] I start.

[color=green]“Grappling hook,”[/color] Rock confirms.[color=green] “You might need to replace the gas canister, but it should still work.”[/color] He thumped the panel with his fist twice and the CRT display began to descend back into place.

[color=cadetblue][b]“I- Thanks,”[/b][/color] I say, looking the device over before clipping it onto my belt.

Rock steps past me and makes for the door. [color=green]“Just stay in your lane, kid.”[/color] He looks back and I see something haunted in his eyes, [color=green]“there are monsters out there.”[/color]

The store’s bell chimes as he steps out into the night.

I wonder for a moment who would replace Mr. Phone’s lock before realizing it would probably be me. A moment after I can’t hear Rock’s footsteps outside, I head out of the store myself.

[right][sup][i]Written in collaboration with [@DocTachyon].[/i][/sup][/right]
[hider= Author’s Notes]
Doc - By the power of [s]God Emperor[/s] Captain Unicycle, this is the fastest a Doc post has ever come together! He was a joy to work with again. I think the last time we did one of these was way back in UOU.
Uni - The olden days with Chow Yun Castle and Vigilante Ghost Rider. We had no plans but by god did we have a dream.

Doc - Over the course of production we somehow established Rock’s favorite childhood movie was Kung Fu Panda.
Uni - He was mad when he saw Kung Fu Panda 2 and Tai Lung wasn’t in it.

Doc - Not super sure what the extent of Mountain’s gadgetry is, probably a much lesser version of Batman’s kit. No Shark-Repellant Mountain Spray here.

Uni - We decided it’d be smart to have Scott begin to progress his powers a bit in this post (finally tapping into his telekinesis to bring the sword back to himself) as well as giving him a bit of another level up through Rock giving him the grappling hook. No more climbing up and down fire escapes for this guy.
[/hider]