New World, Same Violence (2/4)

It came out of nowhere.

One moment the sky was completely clear, the following a shadow began to fall off it.

It took me a second to see that it was a person. They seemed to appear from the horizon out of the blue without any indication, as if launched from a far-off weapon, flying through the air like a bullet.

Flying is too graceful to explain, it looked more like an uncontrollable spinning without a sense of direction.

They would fall to the ground and die if it continued. A height like that could easily kill, especially from an uncoordinated fall.

Without even thinking, I directed my sprint towards the falling person.

I had to catch them!

My mind was running, sprinting through various plans on how to catch the falling person, their speed slowly draining and now almost becoming a complete vertical fall.

I calculated everything, made sure that I would reach it just in time, and used my own velocity and momentum to safely catch and arrest the flaying person's momentum in turn.

I had to time this perfectly, no room for error!

There, they almost reached the floor, head first.

Before I slammed into them, my body carried both of me and the flying person forward, minimizing any damage that could be done due to their fall.

Using the balls of my feet, firmly using the ground as a trampoline in kind, I push forward and slide around. Positioning myself in such a way that no damage would be done to the person who was in danger of going splat on the ground.

My back slammed against the ground, but thanks to my own preparation for the occasion and the body armor protecting my torso the damage done was negligible.

What was not negligible in turn, was the large weight being pressed on your face.

Of course, because the person was falling headfirst, I had to catch them by the waist and turn away while pulling them up to make sure that their head would not make contact with the ground.

This did have the problem of slamming their rear end directly into my face.

While I mostly didn't care, there was another unfamiliar feeling that was quickly rising. One I have felt on other occasions, and I quite disliked it, not only making me unfocused but also allowing the targets to either fight back more effectively or run away.

So with practice born out of necessity, I completely crushed that unfamiliar sensation, dislodged my hands from the person's midriff, and planted them on their rear. They sunk quite a bit, and a part of me marveled at how soft and bouncy it felt on my hands.

But before I could push them away, as I intended, something else happened.

A moan drew my attention away.

Finally, sight returned to me, and I gulped at seeing who I was holding.

She was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. Perhaps the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life, not that there was much competition.

Large parts of my interaction with the opposite sex were raiding prostitution rings, and killing the odd assassin who tried to end me.

Those were always weird, some of them tried to bite, while others swayed their bodies in a strange hypnotic way. Not that it mattered, as soon as I established them to be the enemies I filled them with bullet holes.

This woman was different, however.

Her body was filled with burns, yet someone they didn't detract from her beauty, in fact, they seemed to somehow amplify it. Her short hair looked so silky, and I felt the urge to run my hand through it, I also absently noticed that her entire back was covered in nicks and scars.

I loved scars, they were meaningful, they showed how you fought, struggled, and managed to survive. It didn't matter if you won or not, scars were proof that you still hadn't given up, on yourself.

That was the feature that struck me as most attractive.

(Picture here)

I could stay there, watching her for who knows how long.

Until I realized that she was also looking at me, her eyes wide in alarm and a scowl that somehow made her flushed face pretty.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Oh, my hands were still firmly holding her rear.

Ignore, ignore every weird thing my body is telling me to do, ignore every call that seems to take movement away from my body, and ignore how a part of me is vastly content at hearing her voice.

Without taking my hands off her rear, my blank eyes focused on her, "You fall, catch you." was the monotone response.

Her scowl turned even deeper, but I didn't take the time to see it. Being near this woman was doing something to me, I didn't seem to be in control of my actions, which could cost me gravely in combat, I needed to separate.

"What's yo-"

Without warning I pushed my torso upwards, the sudden movement seemed to have surprised the woman because she gave a slight yelp as her rear was elevated with my hands, she was now being held upside down.

I freeze. Her face was now rubbing against my groin.

And as I notice the way her arms shake and her fist clenches in obvious signs of anger, my danger sense is barely enough for me to let go of her and back away.

A beat later the arms which seemed thin and delicate struck where my liver once was. It was not the move that surprised me, but the wind pressure that erupted from the movement.

What in the...? While the air pressure wasn't strong, it was still enough to ruffle your hair and clothes.

"Oh? As I thought, a civi wouldn't be standing around after the emergency dispatch was sound, who are you?" Within the blink of an eye, I almost missed it, the woman before me was standing up again completely unperturbed from her previous position.

Inhuman, was the first thought that popped into your head, how to kill her was the second. So far she had shown superhuman strength, so maintaining my distance was recommended, a few bullets to test if the strength applied to her skin would be enough to gauge if she would be incapacitated.

If not then the explosion of a grenade should destroy her internal organs, that is if the durability doesn't spread through her entire body.

I stopped. I saved this woman, and sure I probably did something that made her mad at me, but I had to get out of here and try and save the Heros who were in danger.

I also belatedly realized that she was speaking in English, a language that while I can understand well, I had very little practice in talking with.

No, it was her words that made me pause. I was familiar with sirens, they were mostly used to alert a camp about the enemy attack, but a few were also used to warn non-combatants to leave the area so they wouldn't become liabilities.

That must mean that civilians had been called off from an attack already, the conflict which I heard a few minutes earlier. The conflict that was still ongoing!

She asked a question, I needed to answer.

But I already knew the answer, it was a name that had been following me since I was ten, one that had taken literal piles of bodies to be made.

A title given to me because whenever I went, it was as if a Natural Disaster had laid waste to the area.

I had been called that for so long that Storm had become my name, the original one having long been forgotten, sinking together with the ship that carried my childhood memories.

My family, my mind, everything had sunk with that ship, so I made a new name for myself.

A new identity, one forged in blood.

"I am Storm," my voice was grave because it was admitting something not only to her but to myself. I was the Black Storm, a killer of thousands and a monster of war.

The set goal was for the search of warmth, gained from the protection of people. As such it would be the task to change from a killer to a protector.

The woman simply raised an eyebrow, looking me up and down.

"You chose a generic name like that?" Wow, okay, that slightly hurt.

My face showed no signs of the pain inflicted by the innocent comment, however judging by the smirk now on the woman's face I think she knew.

What a mysterious person.

"You?" This time, I pointed at her, the same question on my lips.

"Me? I am Noro, from the Protectorate," the way she inflected the sentence must mean that she was expecting some kind of reaction. And she seemed confused when none popped into my face.

Proctorate? That sounded like an organization, was she perhaps part of an army? It would explain her incredible strength, as well as her highly damaged body.

"You're not with the Nine, are you? With how much heat you're holding, I wouldn't be surprised." I note that while she made a show of putting her fists down her body was still stiff and ready to spring into action. A well-camouflaged technique is used quite often to inspire calmness and drop the target's guard.

I wouldn't fall for such a technique.

And what did she mean by packing heat? In fact, thanks to the weather it was slightly cold.

I did however show my confusion for her question. "Nine? Only one." I pointed at myself, to show her that there was only one here.

The look she gave me made me feel a bit self-conscious as if she was looking at a particularly slow child, and while I quickly threw that feeling away, I still didn't like the way her guard seemed to drop entirely.

Did she not see me as a threat?

"Yeah, not even those psychopaths would be stupid enough to question who the Nine are, you definitely ain't one of them." She seems to collect herself, her thoughtful face naturally turning into a frown.

"You an indie, first day of debut? Can't say I heard of a Storm around New York."

At her question I shake my head, at least to this one, I could answer truthfully and quickly.

"First day." My answer made her wince for some reason, and soon her entire demeanor changed, whereas before it was hostile, now it seemed to look like grudging sympathy.

I was familiar with the action of sympathy, but not directed to me, so when she looked at me with pity eyes, I frowned her way, the first emotion I allowed to seep through your mask.

"Well shit, you chose the worst day possible kid." Oh, she was implying the conflict that was occurring, one that I needed to go to now.

"Need to go, fight," I told her. She was safe and didn't seem to be injured, which meant that I could keep going towards the sound of conflict and hopefully protect the Heros.

"Hah, you remind me of myself. Don't worry, the enemy should be here by now." Was her response, she seemed to be reminiscing about something, and I wondered what.

Her words also set an alarm bell in my head, and finally, a question that should have been answered comes to me.

Noro was strong, unhumanly so.

However, if she was sent flying by someone else, specifically the enemy while fighting, that meant the enemy was as strong or even stronger.

A car was sent flying, both you and Noro jumping away from each other to dodge the massive projectile.

The enemy lies on the other side of the street. Do not hesitate Storm.