The bustling streets of Lower Manhattan were a blur of noise and motion as people went about their daily routines, unaware of the battle that had erupted just a few blocks away. When Cal and the clawed agent crashed onto the pavement, the impact sent a shockwave through the crowded street, drawing gasps and cries of alarm. Pedestrians stopped in their tracks, eyes wide with fear and fascination as the two men faced each other.
The agent moved first, his speed blinding as he closed the gap between them in an instant. His attacks were precise and relentless, a deadly mix of high kicks and slashes. Cal stumbled backward, his punches wild and uncoordinated compared to the agent's disciplined movements. It was clear the agent was a trained fighter, using his power and skill to dominate the fight.
Cal felt a surge of frustration as he was driven back, the crowd around them gasping with each blow. He knew he was stronger, faster even, but the agent's combat training gave him the upper hand. Cal tried to counterattack, but his swings were too wide, his steps too slow. The agent's claws flashed again and again, always aiming for Cal's eyes, forcing him to stay on the defensive.
This man is nothing but a mercenary, Cal thought, rage simmering beneath the surface. A man willing to use his power for nothing but his own gain. He could be helping people, protecting them. But instead, this piece of shit is only using it to pad his pockets. He doesn't care who gets hurt.
The agent's claws came close again, and this time, Cal made a decision. He let the claws tear into his eyes, blinding pain searing through his skull as the world went dark. The crowd screamed, some people turning away from the gruesome sight. Cal gritted his teeth, feeling his flesh tear and bones crack, but he didn't hesitate. He reached out into the dark, his hand finding the agent's wrist, and squeezed, his other hand wrapping around the agent's throat.
The agent choked, shock filled the man's eyes as he realized Cal wasn't backing down. He struggled, his face contorted in pain, but Cal held firm. His vision returned as his eyes healed, the gruesome wounds sealing shut in seconds. He stared at the agent, his gaze cold and unyielding.
"People like you," Cal growled, his voice low and dangerous, "don't deserve power. You use it for such pathetic, selfish reasons." He tightened his grip on the agent's throat, "I wish I could take it from you."
The agent's face twisted with rage, his free hand slashing at Cal's arm. His claws cut deep, severing muscle and tendon. Cal's arm went limp, but he didn't let go with his other hand. Instead, he swung, backhanding the agent.
The force of the blow sent the agent flying. He crashed into a parked car, the metal crumpling around him as he slid to the ground. The car alarm blared, the noise echoing through the street as people screamed and scattered. Cal stood there, his chest heaving, his arm already beginning to heal.
The agent stumbled to his feet, his eyes wide with fear as he looked at Cal. He suddenly felt it dawn on him, he was outmatched. Cal's raw power was beyond anything the agent could counter with his training or powers. He knew it, and Cal knew it. Panic flashed across his face, and he turned, shoving through the crowd with desperate, jerking movements.
Cal watched, his body trembling with the effort of holding himself back. He couldn't lose control. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus, to stay calm.
The agent crashed through the glass doors of a nearby boutique, sending shards flying as he stumbled inside. Cal followed, his heart pounding with a mix of rage and determination. The boutique was a small, upscale store, the kind that sold little trinkets and home decor. Women screamed and ducked behind displays as the two men burst in, the scene a chaotic mess of shattered glass and overturned racks.
"You wanted this fight, you tackled me from the sky to get it, don't run from it now" Cal snapped.
Cal's eyes locked onto the agent, who was cornered near the back of the store, his chest heaving as he looked around wildly. He grabbed a young woman with red hair, yanking her close and pressing his claws against her throat. She let out a terrified sob as blood trickled from where the claws lay, her eyes wide with fear as she struggled to breathe.
"Shut up, freak!" the agent spat, his voice shaking. "You think you can shittalk me? Don't get cocky!"
Cal froze, his heart sinking. This guy was an asshole for sure, but he hadn't expected this, not from a government agent, a government super hero. "Let her go," he said, his voice tightening as he got angrier. "There are so many witnesses. You're wearing a badge. You're supposed to be better than this."
The agent's eyes darted around, his grip tightening on the woman's throat. "They'll throw me back in a cell if I lose this fight. I'm not going back!" His voice cracked, the fear in his eyes raw and desperate.
"Back in a cell?" Cal repeated, his voice low with realization. "You're a convict? The SRA is using people like you?"
The agent's face twisted in anger. "Shut up!" he snarled, his claws pressing harder against the woman's throat. "I'll gouge her throat out if you move!" The woman sobbed, her body trembling as she looked at Cal with pleading eyes.
Cal's heart pounded in his chest, her red hair and terrified face reminding him too much of Amber. He took a step forward, his hands raised in a placating gesture.
"You kill her, and it's back to jail for you. No way out of it. You're supposed to be a hero now, right?"
The agent's claw tapped against the woman's jugular, his face contorting in a bitter smile. "I'm no hero, and neither are you. You think you're better than me? They linked you to that guy with his head blown off. We're both murderers, you and me."
Cal flinched as the memory of Henry's head exploding flashed through his mind. The agent's grin widened as he saw Cal's gaze waver, his eyes gleaming with a twisted satisfaction. "If I'm going back, I'm taking as many people with me as I can."
Cal's vision blurred as a surge of rage, hotter and more intense than anything he'd ever felt, shot through him. He imagined Amber in the agent's hands again, imagined this monster killing her, killing innocent people. His breath came in harsh, ragged gasps, the heat of his anger so intense it was visible, steam rising from his skin.
His jacket and shirt, already torn from the fight, were almost completely destroyed, revealing his bare skin underneath. His muscles were tearing and regrowing at an accelerated rate, his body responding to his extreme distress. The energy being burned by his transformation radiated off him as intense heat, the air around him shimmering as though his body struggled to contain the raw power coursing through him.
The agent's face went pale, his eyes wide with horror as he realized what was happening. Cal stumbled, the pain of the transformation almost unbearable.
He looked up, his eyes blazing with fury, his voice a guttural snarl. He made a decision that felt like a puzzle piece fitting into place.
"You don't deserve to live." He let it out. Like a weight off his shoulders as he said it.
The agent's face twisted in terror as Cal took a step forward, his body trembling with the force of his barely contained rage. The woman sobbed, her body shaking as she clung to the agent's arm, her eyes locked on Cal's, pleading for help.