Angels on Branly

I descended on a statue of a naked man holding a horse with his right hand. On the opposite side of the road stood an equal statue to where Makela had descended on. At that very moment, I felt like Tupac "All Eyes on Me", all eyes were literally on us but obviously who would not be dumbstruck by two cloaked black armoured humanoids and besides people are afraid of anything that is adorned or coated in black.

We jumped off the statue to the asphalt at the same time as though we were in synch. The ambient was a field with mixed vibes, millennials who have no fear for disaster were taking photos of us in conjunction with amazement and trepidation, adolescents and young adults were murmuring words such as Dark Vader (probably because of Makela), aliens, and so forth.

At that moment, everything went slow as if time decided to hang ten and chill for a bit. Behind us, besides the green trees, people and traffic were buildings adorned in white. In front of us stood the Eiffel, it was amazing though, the feeble and terrified crowd gave the aura of the Eiffel's magnificence away. 

As we walked forward to the tower, I looked at the driver in the car on my left, a yellow Toyota Yaris, he owned, I stood and turned my head to look at him and he lost control. I always wanted to know of the people that owned yellow cars. The guy floated free from his seat belt, made his way to the passenger shotgun, out the car, through the door's window, and ran like his life depended on the distance he was away from me. Huh… Yellow, friendly? Right... 

The man on Makela's right jumped out from the passenger seat on the opposite side screaming "Ange de décès", which means Angel of Death and something about Victoria's Secret. Who's Victoria?

A female driver behind the yellow Yaris ran out of her custom-coloured mauve Mini Cooper, though, what caught my attention was that as she was running and screaming, she was wetting her jeans. Come on, we were not that terrifying, we were not terrifying at all but I blame the media and the rest of the West for turning people into such feeble cowards. 

I heard Police sirens from afar and in seconds I could see the blue and red lights, police vehicles rushed in from all lanes of the Quai Branly, and in a matter of seconds, we were surrounded by the popo. The bravest of the cops came out of his car, a tall horse-faced blond Cauck with a vacant expression from what I could see.

 He wore a baby blue tie that complemented his shirt and crimson suit. This guy must have been the chief detective of Paris or something like that. He gestured for a megaphone, shook it, and finally spoke out. "We come in peace… est-ce que? Bon... Do you speak any English?", he cried out of the megaphone. 

I thought to myself, "We come in peace!?", that's what they said when they came to Africa and then they colonized us and why would they assume the best language to speak in a hostile situation was English?  Without moving her head in my direction, Makela said, "Jk, you know what needs to be done. The target is on the opposite side of the tower. I will handle the cops".

I can assure you that there have never been more guns pointed at a brother than the ones pointed at me but at least they were not going to open fire. One could sense and smell the pungent of dread and panic boiling and forming a vapour of dismay. The fact was, hell was going to break loose, all the cops could do was point their guns and that wasn't threatening at all because if a single bullet was released, I'd probably be like "ya'll gon'make me lose my mind, up in here up in here!", but they kept cowering behind their pointed guns. 

I reached the bottom of the tower and flew straight up to the first level on the Eiffel. It was only when I stood on the railings of the first level had I realized that the weather had suddenly changed from a hot and blue sky to a cloudy Monday afternoon feel. From the first level, one could see a remarkable view of Paris, the buildings were painted in white, to the horizon except for a skyscraper that was facing the Eiffel from a distance, black from what I could tell or just black due to the distance. I wore my aviator and zoomed in on the target, a man dressed in white (was everything and everyone white here?) pacing to the parking on Avanue Gustave Eiffel with a boy. 

I was about to remove The Gaddafi from my wrist but then I changed my mind and took out my Ark "they lie about us...", changed gear to a bow and arrow, I replaced the Military grade arrowhead with a poisoned one, I aimed "because they hide the truth about them...", I looked down on the target and let the poisoned arrow loose "therefore we display no remorse". In a matter of seconds, Jed Carter was laying on the ground. The boy knelt trying to help him from what I believe was his dying father, they exchanged words and he was history. 

The boy looked up and stared at me, which, was odd because I needed the aviators to see that distance, and yet he knelt there holding his father's left hand and stared directly at me. There and then, I lived my dream, I dreamed of this a year ago. Standing there with a foot to the railings it dawned on me, my subjection and service to the Creed have created a monster out of me. All my year in Temple Bongo Bonang, the training, knowledge, and isolation were to deflate my humanity. I grew up without parents, moved from one foster home to another, lived like a rodent in the streets of Cape Town yet, none of life's experiences matter, no, none concern for the boy who I had made fatherless. My only concern was whether to spare him or not; if I left the boy to live, he would have in his young adulthood seek retribution therefore it would be prudent to eliminate him as well. No remorse.

Out of nowhere, a military chopper shot bullets in my direction. I flew towards it trying to dodge the bullets but most of them hit me, if it hurt, I had not shown it. I flew above it, the pilot noticed that I was above and attempted to change position, I threw Nimzy at the chopper's propeller before the pilot released more projectiles. The chopper started losing altitude and when it hit the ground, at that moment, all I could see were colours related to fire breeding a blur ambient. 

As soon I gained site the boy and Jed Carter's corpse were no longer there, half of the parking had gone to flames. Cars that had previously been parked by their owners were now in no condition to drive, I hope they had good car insurance. I turned around and noticed Makela was at a party of her own. But…  where was Jed Carter?

I found the boy laying on top of his father's corpse, weeping. The site was too disturbing. The boy looked up, realizing I was just steps away from him. He launched himself on me but with one arm, I tossed the boy aside. I began to loot. I looked through his phone in search of clues, after taking a picture of the deceased. The boy came again for a second attempt, annoyed by this, I thought it better to kill the boy. He was too relentless to let go.

 I lifted the boy, my hands pressing against his neck, squeezing the life out of him. The kid tried to fight. One had to admire the kid's bravery.  "M… my s… son…", muttered Carter. I turned in bewilderment. Here I thought he was dead. "Please… l…l…let hi…him… go…", I dropped the boy on top of his father.  Gasped for air. "ppp…please let me… s…say ggg…goodbye… to mm… my… son.", There was no way Jed Carter was going to see another day so, I gave him his wish.

Makela wasn't only fighting the police, Interpol, and soldiers yet she was also blowing military tanks and choppers, "what did you do to get this much heat?", I laughed, "Jk, now is not the time for humour", retorted Ta-hawa. I flew in to join the party. It was a bloody mess; my Ark began to heat since it was constantly shifting from one gear to another. Spear to the shoulder of a cop, arrow to the spine of a soldier who was about to enter a vacant tank, sword stubbed to whoever was about to attack me from behind. I sent Nimzy flying straight to a soldier's shoulder blade but that's not all, to my surprise, Nimzy had cut through the shoulder blade, decapitated the cop behind the soldier, flew straight through a tank, cut through the temple of a police officer, Nimzy changed direction, it came straight at me, I ducked, Nimzy flew over me and sliced the cop behind me and it was speeding back to me. I was really scared of my evil-possessed tomahawk.

I caught Nimzy in mid-air as it was about to pass over me, remarkably the blade was bloodless. Whoa, spooky. I turned to look at Makela who was having the best time of her life. She moved from one enemy to the other at incredible combat speed plus her ability to apply all the Four Arts of Combat at random sequences made her look like a deadly hip-hop dancer. A jet fighter flew in shooting at us, Ta-hawa drew her sceptre and manipulated the wind to blow the jet off course and sent the fighter jet crashing on the left side of the tower and as soon as it collided with the Eiffel, the fighter blew to cinders. No remorse.

The sounds of bullets, choppers, and jets crashing, tankers exploding, blades slicing and stabbing through flesh, screaming voices and suddenly, it was dead quiet, well probably because most of the national security personnel were dead and it was quiet like; horror movie quiet, not that it's something to proud of though, it all occurred in less than 3 minutes, whoa. 

"We need to find a safe place to lay low and to remove the suit", Ta-hawa suggested. "Yeah, we attracted too much attention. The Maditau is going to explode when she hears about this" I added. From a distant building I thought I saw... "who's that?", Makela asked dubiously, "shit", she looked tense. "Ta-hawa?", I called. "JK, that's Bison", "so?", "he is the Metronome", she shuddered.

"If you felt cautious in New York, you ought to panic now. He usually sends emissaries but he came himself, this is not good", Makela was stress now. "Can we take him?", I asked. Makela scoffed, "there's a better chance of you winning a fight against Earth's Mightiest Heroes, single-handed than to stand against the Metronome", I wasn't sure if she was scared or just overrating this Metronome fella.  "How many like him are there?", I asked. "Just one and that's more than enough…", she shuddered.

The figure from the rooftop, stood, motionless, perhaps calculating the damage as to size our punishment. Makela was tensed, I have never seen her like that before. Her eyes fixed to the figure above. "What now", "shhh!", scold Makela.

The Metronome dropped an orange flare, Makela fell and sighed in relief. The figure disappeared and the flare fell not far from us. "What just happened", I asked. "We just stood before judgment. Bison is the advocate, Judge, and Executioner.  The Metronome, as in the name, keeps all worlds in balance. When one world disturbs the natural flow, like what we have done here, Bison steps in to set it back", she stood up. "let's move…", she added. 

We took shelter in a vacant apartment not far from the catastrophe. It so happens that the owner of the apartment was a journalist who recently travelled to Cambodia, boy did she miss the news of the century.

"I do not feel comfortable taking the suit off!", complained Makela, "I feel naked!", she continued. "Well unless you want to spend tomorrow blowing up ghetto birds then suit… yourself. As for me. Good night", I said half annoyed at her tantrum.

It was eleven o'clock in the morning, I should have still been sleeping because my entire body was in pain from the previous afternoon action but no, a bellowing Ta-hawa was shouting my name and something about France 24. "Keep it down, no one knows we are here", I scold at her. "We are on the news but I don't understand French!", she insisted on being loud. "There's an English equivalent, change the channel", I said still wishing I could sleep again. 

…yes, Joanna I am at the centre of the horrific massacre that took place here yesterday in the afternoon. Authorities claim that it was a terrorist attack though eyewitnesses say something completely different. 

Witnesses claim that there were two-winged alien humanoid machines cloaked in black that started what ended up as a disaster. The footage you are seeing was recorded by an armature photographer and as you can see that the witnesses' description matches what is shown from the images, some are saying they are aliens, demons while others are saying they are angels of death. 

Hours before the massacre that took place here, witnesses spotted the same unidentified humanoids just outside Paris and about thirteen hours ago, girls heading home from a nightclub recorded the same unidentified humanoids. What baffles me the most is that authorities claim it to be a terrorist attack when it appears too beyond that...

Now that Jed Carter was dead the Munssu had lost an indispensable member to their aim at initiating another War of Zayi. What bothered me at the time was the French government covering what took place on the previous day as a terrorist attack and then it dawned on me some of the soldiers had an upside-down red crucifix on the left side of their camouflage while others had the French Flag. The Munssu were present last night. 

To be honest, I was not surprised, the Munssu were key elements directly and indirectly during the foundation of Europe. Jed Carter was dead, one less Grand Bearer on the Knights' Table.