Far from the devastated lake, inside an old, abandoned warehouse, Number Six tended to her wounds. Physically, she was almost fully recovered thanks to the rapid healing of the Garde. Mentally, however, she was shaken. For years, she had lived on the run, fighting and surviving. She had faced Mogadorians, Piken monsters, and countless other dangers. She always had a plan, always had a way to win or at least escape.
But that man, Tom Jacker, was something else. He was an impossibility. A riddle with no answer.
"He's not just insane," Number Six whispered to herself while cleaning her weapons. "He's a law of nature gone wrong."
Her old strategies wouldn't work. Facing him directly was foolish. Avoiding him also seemed difficult if the man continued to cause a commotion. For now, she decided on a new approach: observation. She had to study Tom from a distance, understand his patterns, and maybe, just maybe, find some unseen weakness. She refused to believe that anything was truly invincible.
Meanwhile, Tom Jacker was starting to feel a bit impatient. He had been wandering around for several days after his encounter with Number Six, but there was no sign of the girl. It seemed his target had learned her lesson and decided to hide better.
"Okay, plan A, which was making random noise, isn't working anymore," Tom muttered, sitting atop a water tower, observing the town below. "She knows I'm looking for her now. She's wary. I need better bait. Something she can't ignore."
What can't a Garde who is constantly fighting Mogadorians ignore? The answer was simple: the war against the Mogadorians itself.
"If I become the biggest problem for the Mogadorians on this planet," Tom thought, a sly smile beginning to form, "then sooner or later, she'll have to deal with me. Either as an ally or as an enemy. Both sound fun."
His plan changed. He would no longer just create minor chaos. He would launch his own war. Based on the information he had squeezed from the Mogadorian earlier, he knew the location of a small Mogadorian processing facility, a place where they stored equipment and perhaps a few Piken monsters in captivity. It was the perfect target.
The facility was located in an abandoned industrial area. From the outside, it looked like a regular old warehouse. But Tom, with his Garde senses, could feel the activity and strange energy within.
He didn't bother looking for a door. He used his Telekinesis to rip a large portion of the building's side wall off, revealing a busy interior filled with startled Mogadorian soldiers.
"Special delivery!" Tom shouted as he leaped inside. "I brought an order of total destruction!"
What happened next was a demonstration of power that was both terrifying and efficient. Tom was no longer playing around as he had before. He moved with purpose.
* He used Telekinesis to lift massive steel containers and drop them like bombs on concentrations of Mogadorian troops.
* He released several Piken from their cages, not to help him, but just to add to the chaos, then burned the monsters to ash with a concentrated blast of Lumen when they tried to attack him.
* He created a telekinetic shield to withstand a barrage of energy blasts, then returned fire by launching superheated metal projectiles that he coated with his Lumen.
* And of course, any attack that managed to get through his defenses had no effect other than making his clothes more tattered. He was a one-man wrecking crew, laughing in the midst of explosions.
In less than an hour, the facility had become a burning hellscape. Most of the Mogadorians had been neutralized or had fled. Tom stood amidst the wreckage, not even breaking a sweat, feeling utterly satisfied. This was far more fun than just toppling trees.
Hundreds of miles away, in another city, Number Six was monitoring the news on an old laptop in a public library. A breaking story appeared, not on the main channels, but on conspiracy forums and from online eyewitnesses. Reports of massive explosions and a battle in an abandoned industrial park. The eyewitness descriptions were bizarre: explosions without bombs, metal objects flying on their own, and the figure of a man walking through fire unharmed.
Number Six froze. She didn't have to wonder who was responsible. There was only one person on the planet who fit that insane description.
She closed her laptop, her mind racing. This changed everything. Tom was no longer just pestering her. He was actively destroying their mutual enemy, but in such an open and reckless way. He was drawing immense attention, attention that could endanger any other Garde who might be in hiding.
She could no longer just observe from afar. She had to get closer. She had to understand what game Tom Jacker was playing, before that game burned the entire world down around them.
Whether she liked it or not, she had to meet him again. And this time, she had to come with a different plan.
Number Six arrived at the location of the destroyed Mogadorian facility at dusk. The sight that greeted her was worse than she had imagined. Molten metal, scattered debris from the building, and the thick smell of smoke still hung in the air. This wasn't the work of a strike team; this was the work of one person. A very clear message.
And in the middle of the destruction, the message's sender was waiting.
Tom Jacker sat casually atop the wreckage of a Mogadorian combat vehicle, as if it were his throne. He was tossing a dented Mogadorian helmet into the air and catching it again with Telekinesis. When he saw Number Six approaching cautiously from a distance, he caught the helmet one last time and grinned.
"I knew you'd come," Tom said, his voice carrying clearly through the silence. "You couldn't miss the after-party, could you?"
Number Six stopped at a safe distance. She didn't raise a weapon; her posture was wary but not aggressive. This was her new approach. "We need to talk."
"Finally!" Tom exclaimed, jumping down from his throne. "I was getting bored of waiting. So, what's on your mind? Fancy a round two? I've been practicing some new moves."
"Stop your games," Number Six cut in, her voice flat. "I didn't come to fight. I came with a proposal."
Tom raised an eyebrow, looking genuinely interested. "A proposal? I like proposals."
"You destroy Mogadorians," Number Six continued, gesturing to their surroundings. "I also destroy Mogadorians. Our enemy is the same. But your methods... they're reckless. You're drawing too much attention."
"That's the point," Tom retorted.
Number Six ignored the comment. "We could be more effective. Or at least, you could stop making a mess that could endanger everyone, including other Garde who might be in hiding." She paused, gathering her resolve. "I'm proposing a temporary alliance. We work together to take down bigger Mogadorian targets."
Tom stared at her for a long moment, then burst into laughter. A loud, genuine laugh that echoed among the ruins.
"An alliance?" he said between laughs. "You? With me? That's the funniest thing I've heard all week!"
Number Six's face hardened. "This isn't a joke. It's a logical step. We're both strong. Together, we could eliminate the Mogadorian threat on this planet much faster." She intentionally used the word "we" to create a sense of shared purpose, hoping to manipulate this insane man.
Tom stopped laughing, but an amused smile still played on his lips. He walked closer, and Number Six instinctively tensed up.
"Alright, alright. I'll accept your 'alliance'," Tom said, making air quotes with his fingers. "But with a few conditions of my own."
"What conditions?" Number Six asked warily.
"One," Tom said, holding up a finger. "We do this my way. That means it has to be fun and spectacular. I don't do quiet, boring plans."
Number Six winced, but nodded slowly. She could work with that.
"Two," Tom continued. "You have to stop trying to figure out 'what I am'. It ruins the mystery."
Again, Number Six nodded.
"And three," Tom said, his grin becoming sharper, more personal. "After all the important Mogadorians are defeated, you and I will have one more fight, a final battle. If I win, I get what I wanted from the beginning." He gave Number Six a look that clearly reminded her of his request to "take" her powers.
It was a trap. Number Six knew it. Tom wasn't interested in an alliance; he was just turning his hunt into a longer, more structured game. But what choice did she have? To refuse meant returning to the status quo, where Tom would continue to act on his own and likely cause even more unpredictable danger. To accept, at the very least, gave her the chance to be near him, to watch him, and maybe find that weakness she was looking for.
It was a dangerous gamble, but she was a survivor. She always took risks.
"Fine," Number Six said finally, her voice steadier than she expected. "I agree to your terms."
"Excellent!" Tom exclaimed, clapping his hands once. "The Dream Team is officially formed! So, what's our next big target, partner? I hear they have a major communications hub near the Rocky Mountains. Word is it's heavily guarded. Sounds like a great place to blow up, right?"
Number Six looked at Tom's childlike enthusiasm and felt a headache coming on. She had just made a deal with the devil, or something worse: an invincible agent of chaos.
She didn't know that for Tom, this was a major victory. His prey had just willingly agreed to step into the cage. This game was about to get much more interesting.
The main Mogadorian communications hub in North America was located in a remote valley in the Rocky Mountains. According to information Number Six had gathered over the years, the place was heavily guarded, equipped with advanced sensors, and served as the nerve center for all their operations on the continent. Destroying it would significantly cripple Mogadorian coordination.
"Here's the plan," Number Six said, sketching a rough map on the ground with a stick. They were hiding on a cliff overlooking the valley, several kilometers from the target. "I'll use my powers to create a thick fog when night falls. It'll mess with their visual sensors. I'll sneak in, invisible, and disable the main communication tower and the power generator. After that..."
"After that I go in and blow everything up!" Tom cut in enthusiastically, his eyes shining.
Number Six gave him a sharp look. "No. After I disable the primary targets, we retreat undetected. The goal is to cripple, not to announce our existence to the entire Mogadorian Armada."
Tom snorted. "So boring. What's the point of having great powers if you can't show off a little? My plan is better. We walk up to the front door, I knock it down, then we see who can break more stuff before they all pass out. Wanna bet?"
"This isn't a game, Tom," Number Six hissed, her frustration mounting.
"Of course it's a game," Tom replied cheerfully. "And I intend to win. Fine, fine, we'll go with your boring plan... for the first five minutes."
Number Six took a long, deep breath. She knew this wouldn't be easy, but she had to try.
That night, as planned, a thick, unnatural fog began to descend and envelop the valley. It was Number Six's handiwork, a perfect cloak for infiltration. As agreed, she turned invisible and began to move down the slope, agile and silent. Tom followed from behind, moving with his Garde speed, though with far less care, occasionally sending a small rock tumbling.
Number Six made it past the outer perimeter without any issues. She approached the communications tower, ready to place small explosives at its vital points. But that's when she heard a voice that made her want to scream.
"Excuse me! Does anyone have a map? I think my ghost friend and I are a little lost!"
It was Tom's voice, broadcast over the base's external speaker system. Number Six spun around in horror to see Tom standing casually near the main gate, having ripped the intercom control panel off and spoken directly into it.
Deafening alarms immediately began to roar. Searchlights swept through the fog. The base doors burst open and dozens of Mogadorian soldiers swarmed out.
"Great plan, partner!" Tom shouted to the invisible Number Six. "The stealth part worked! Now for the fun part!"
Number Six gritted her teeth. There was no point in being angry now. Plan B, or rather, Plan Tom, had begun.
Chaos ensued. Tom became the center of attention, deliberately drawing every shot towards himself. He was the world's best bait. While dozens of Mogadorians were busy shooting, blasting, and trying to slash the man who couldn't die, Number Six was given a golden opportunity.
She saw a strange synergy in this madness. With all eyes on Tom, she could move freely. She became a ghost on the battlefield.
Tom, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. "Hey, Six! Watch this!" he yelled. He used Telekinesis to lift two armored Mogadorian jeeps, then slammed them together in mid-air, creating a spectacular metal explosion.
Number Six, taking advantage of the chaos, slipped to the communications tower and planted her explosives. Then, she moved towards the generator. When she got there, she saw Tom was surrounded. At least fifty Mogadorians were firing at him simultaneously. Tom just stood in the middle of the energy storm, hands on his hips, as if enjoying a private meteor shower.
For a moment, Number Six hesitated. But then she saw Tom fight back. He seemed to absorb the heat energy from the blasts, then released it back in a giant wave of Lumen that pushed back all the Mogadorians around him.
Realizing Tom was more than capable of taking care of himself, Number Six finished her task and activated the explosive timers.
"Time to go, Tom!" she yelled, her voice carried by the wind she was beginning to conjure.
"Aw, what a shame, I haven't even tried to knock the tower down manually!" Tom replied. But he agreed. He created a massive wall of fire with his Lumen to block the pursuing Mogadorians, then shot off after Number Six.
They reached the top of the cliff just as a series of massive explosions rocked the valley below them. The communications tower collapsed, the generator blew up, and most of the base was engulfed in flames. It was a beautiful sight of destruction. Mission accomplished, albeit in the loudest and most unpredictable way possible.
Number Six stared at the dancing flames in the distance, then turned to her impossible partner. Tom stood beside her, without a single scratch on him, his face beaming as if he'd just watched the best fireworks show of his life.
"See? What did I tell you," Tom said, nudging Number Six's shoulder good-naturedly. "Great teamwork. When do we do this again?"
Number Six didn't answer. She could only stare at the destruction and realize that she had indeed crippled her enemy, but she had done so by riding a dragon she could not control. And that dragon was now looking at her, as if deciding which toy he was going to break next.
They found shelter in an old hunter's cabin, deep in the mountain forest. The rain outside fell gently, this time not of Number Six's doing, but a natural rain washing away the last traces of ozone from their battle. Inside, the silence was heavy and awkward.
Tom Jacker was cheerfully roasting some marshmallows he'd gotten from who-knows-where over a small fire he created in his palm using Lumen. Meanwhile, Number Six paced the small room like a panther in a cage.
Finally, she stopped and stared at Tom sharply. "You do realize what you've done, right?"
"Of course," Tom replied, popping a slightly burnt marshmallow into his mouth. "We blew up the bad aliens' base. That's a successful mission. I'd give it a nine out of ten. Would have been a ten if the explosion was bigger."
"It's not about whether it was a success or not!" Number Six snapped, her voice rising. "It's about the method! You announced our presence to the entire world! The Mogadorians now know there are two major powers working together. They'll send more troops, maybe even the main Armada. You've endangered everyone!"
Tom looked at her, an amused expression on his face. "And? Isn't that a good thing? It means we don't have to bother looking for them anymore. They'll come to us. Efficient, right?"
"Efficient?" Number Six let out a dry, humorless laugh. "You call attracting the attention of an entire enemy army efficient? What if there are other Garde out there? Kids who haven't found their Cêpan yet, who are still weak. They'll become soft targets because of you!"
"If they're that weak, they probably wouldn't last long anyway," Tom said casually, shrugging. "Law of the jungle, babe. The strong survive."
That cold comment silenced Number Six. She looked at Tom, trying to comprehend the depth of the selfishness before her. There was no empathy, no consideration for others. There was only a desire for fun and challenges.
"You don't care about anyone but yourself," she said quietly, more a statement than a question.
"I care about you," Tom replied with a crooked smile. "I care a great deal about getting your powers. That counts, right?"
Number Six looked away, disgust and frustration churning inside her. She walked over to the cold fireplace, her back to Tom. This argument was pointless. She was talking to a wall, a wall that could smile and blow things up.
After a moment of silence, Tom spoke again, his tone slightly calmer. "You know, you're much stronger than that kid I first met. John, was it? His Telekinesis was good, but your control over the elements... that's a work of art."
Number Six didn't respond, but she was listening.
"You can create a storm from thin air. Shoot lightning. I wonder, what are the limits?" Tom continued, more as if thinking aloud than asking. "And your stamina is great too. For a Garde."
That last sentence caught her attention. "For a Garde?" she repeated, turning to face him.
"Of course," Tom said. "You're strong, fast, tough. But you can still get tired. You can still get hurt. Not like me." He leaned forward slightly, his gaze intense. "I wonder, what does it feel like to never get tired? To never really be afraid of getting hurt? I guarantee you, my stamina in all aspects is incredible."
The words hung in the air, loaded with a provocative double meaning. Number Six felt her cheeks heat up slightly, whether from anger or something else. She quickly brushed the feeling aside. "Don't talk nonsense."
"Is it nonsense?" Tom chuckled. "We have plenty of time to find out, partner."
He stood up, stretching as if he had just woken from a nap. "Alright, fun argument. So, what's next? I'm getting bored of sitting around. We've destroyed their communications hub. The next target has to be bigger."
Number Six took a deep breath, trying to bring her focus back to the mission. "There's one more major target before we can even think about their main headquarters. An underground fortress where they conduct biological experiments and house a large number of Piken. Destroying it would cut off their supply of 'monsters'."
"Biological experiments and monsters?" Tom's eyes lit up again. "Now you're speaking my language! That sounds a thousand times more fun than a radio tower. Where is it?"
As Number Six began to explain the fortress's location, Tom listened intently. But in the back of his mind, his thoughts were branching out.
[System Panel]
- World Progress Analysis:
- High-powered targets defeated: 4 of 16.
- Completion reward (+1 Ability Slot) remains locked.
He smiled inwardly. Four. Still a long way to go. This alliance was speeding up the process. He would let Number Six guide him to all the important targets. He would let her think she had some semblance of control over the situation. He would enjoy every fight, every explosion, every moment of their strange partnership.
And when only the two of them were left, as per their agreement, he would collect his payment. The final game would be the most fun of all.