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| − | M'Aara's surprisingly light on her feet. She doesn't make a single sound as she nimbly makes her way into the building. I almost feel like I'm cheating by keeping myself afloat with my powers. I follow closely behind her as we reach the main foyer.
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| − | What a dump. Luckily this old complex still has power. A few of the light fixtures in the ceiling are intact. They're a little dim, but it's better than nothing. It's hard to tell how much of the damage was caused by M'Aara's encounter and how much was here to begin with. There are piles of splintered wood and drywall all over the place. Some of the walls have gaping holes in them, giving us a peek at the vermin-infested insulation. The foyer itself is pretty big for a building like this. There are thick, carved wood columns arranged around the staircase in the center. They're holding up pretty well, all things considered. This place must have been beautiful once.
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| − | I'm not likely to get any backup soon enough to matter. But I'd be a fool not to at least try. I have to keep quiet, though. I touch my earpiece and quietly murmur my request to the A.I. Krow installed on the tech in my suit. “<font color="C8C864"><i>Jay, can you give the Challengers my coordinates? Let them know I'm about to engage a supervillain and need backup.</i></font>”
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| − | That familiar, posh tone of voice responds in my earpiece. “<font color="#7D7D7D">Of course, Miss Psion.</font>” It doesn't take him long to get back to me. "<font color="#7D7D7D">I'm afraid I am unable to establish a connection. I believe the signal is being blocked.</font>" Well that's...New. Since when does Shadow have the technical know-how to jam a communicator? Could be another player on the field.
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| − | The lights start to flicker. Now is really not a good time. I <i>really</i> hope the electricity holds out a little longer. M'Aara gives me a concerned look, she knows we have to hurry. Losing the lights would bring this mission to a whole new level of impossible. I give her a hand signal to check out the doors on the east wall while I silently float toward the west hall. She nods and quietly creeps over to check it out. The only sound to be heard is the muffled, ambient noise of the city outside. To be honest, it's tough not to focus on that. I'm trying my hardest to listen for the sound of living ooze dripping down the walls, or even some weight shifting on the squeaky old floorboards. Any sign will do.
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| − | Before I leave the foyer, I glance back over my shoulder at M'Aara. She seems to have found something. It looks like a curved sword but the blade is made of some kind of orange metal I've never seen before. The cross-guard looks a lot like her armor. Must be hers. Maybe she lost it during the fight? I'm about to turn back toward my hallway when I notice the light from the street lamp outside paints her silhouette on the big column next to her. Is it just me or is her shadow getting bigger?
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| − | “<font color="C8C864"><b>M'Aara! Get down!</b></font>” I send a wave of telekinetic force at the column. She dives out of the way and somersaults back on her feet a small distance away. What was once an elegantly carved piece of architecture is now scrap pieces of lumber on the floor. I hope I wasn't seeing things, because if Mister Shadow didn't know I was here, he does now. I carefully float closer as the dust settles. But the sound of debris shifting brings me to a dead stop.
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| − | Black tar littered with wood chips and dust percolates up from the rubble and congeals into a humanoid form. It morphs a formal suit and bowler hat on the figure while the details start to take shape. All except the face. There's nothing there but a familiar slit for a mouth and two giant black spots where the eyes should be. It's him alright. “<font color="644B96">I ammm-most pleased to see you have accepted. My invitation. Hm.</font>” He casually brushes the debris off himself and inhales a wheezing breath before he continues. “<font color="644B96">In a world where su- pervillains run rampant. Not many would place. Weight. On sightings of a walkinnng silhouette.</font>” Something's wrong with his voice. He used to sound like a creepy version of Jay. Now he just sounds...Broken. The incident must have taken more out of him than I thought.
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| − | So he knew I'd come after him. Fine. That doesn't change the fact that he might still have my memories. Memories that contain a lot of sensitive information about me and my team. “<font color="C8C864">I can't let you leave here, Shadow. You're still a wanted criminal.</font>” I can see M'Aara stealthily circling around behind Shadow while he's busy talking to me. Good idea. I just have to keep his attention a little longer and buy her an opportunity to strike.
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| − | He takes another strained breath. “<font color="644B96">I have no inten-tion. Of leaving. Now that you are here.</font>” I keep my gaze locked on those big black spots he has for eyes. Can't give him any hint that M'Aara's up to something. “<font color="644B96">But I admit. I was sur-prised to meet your new...Hm...<b>FRIEND.</b></font>” An inky tentacle shoots out of his back and delivers a powerful blow to M'Aara, slamming her into the wall. The impact shakes a whole lot of dust loose.
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| − | “<font color="C8C864">M'Aara!</font>”Looks like we're doing this the hard way. I really don't like the hard way. If I'm lucky, his speech pattern isn't the only thing broken after the incident. Time to see what you're made of, Mister Shadow.
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