The last few weeks had been some of the best of Danny's life since his arrival to RhyDin. He had set aside all of his vigilante work and focused just on being the best possible person he could be for his girl, Lizzie. All paranoia and fear of something hunting him - of being left alone - had vanished in that time. For the first time in years, Danny was a normal guy living a normal life.


He had left the day to day operations of the group he brought back with him up to Zee. She kept him informed, but Danny was adamant about having a hands off approach. He was done with the whole nighttime hero thing. He had closed that chapter of his life, all the good and bad. He was just Danny Brooks, a guy working odd jobs to pay the rent. No more mysteries, no more searching, no more trying to fight the inevitable. Just forgetting all the past and living in happiness for once in his adult life.


It was then that he turned a corner, metaphorically and literally. He was face to face with the same person who had haunted him not too long ago - the one who literally cut him to pieces. Except he seemed to have suffered a similar fate. The doctor's head was stuck to a doorway, held in place by an arrow. The rest of his body nowhere to be seen.


Danny stumbled backwards as his breath caught. It was hard to shock him, but this was quite successful. It was hard to specify if it was due more to the face of the deceased, or to how he had come across it. It was deliberate. A message. He had been taking the same way home for days now. Someone knew his pattern. He swiveled quickly, his eyes looking upwards, searching for any sign or trace of the person behind the message. His body tensed, coiled, waiting to strike at anyone or anything.


But nothing. Just cold air against his face, and the lifeless expression of the head attached to the building's door. Danny spared it one last look before he walked past, and even though one person he felt genuine fear about was dead, Danny still felt a little less unsure about the brightness of the future he had been envisioning.

I'm a meticulous person by nature. Or maybe I just became that way growing up. But I like to plan and organize and set things in order before I do things. I want to take control of situations and dissect them and turn them to my advantage, even if they don't go the way I originally plan for them to.

Take, for example, my little meeting last night. The cute blonde I'd been watching for a while finally went to a place besides work. I know she's got something going on with him, but hard to say what. She's definitely not his type, so I don't know if he's trolling or what. But then again I don't know much about him these days.

Back to the girl though, tough acting miss Lizzie Liddell. Came at me with a spraycan. Ha! I wonder if that tough act of hers ever works. Can't see it happening though. She looks too damn fine when she's all mad to ever intimidate anyone with a working pair. I told her as much, and that got her even more worked up. That's where the plan fell apart and I had to ad-lib.

I was planning on making good with my fake "I'm so lost!" pathetic act. Get in with her, make her feel like she was going to be my tour guide, and go from there. But when she got mad. I just had to keep pushing her buttons. Get her more worked up. I admit, I had a guilty pleasure from it, but it was also almost as good as my original idea. If I keep goading that from her maybe she'll get backup and I can learn more about things. I bet she can't get her mind off of me anyway, and that's another workable angle.

Speaking of which, that girl had a bunch of them I wanted to work. Damn. Even if this ends up being a dead end, maybe I can get something out of her. Or in her. Who said I can't have a little fun while I'm here?

Danny was pushed up against a wall by a two handed shove, giving a little grunt as he felt his back his the surface. Those same hands then curled around his neck, a long, toned leg lifted and wrapped around one of his, heels caressing the back of his thigh. Full, pouty lips danced dangerously close to his own.

"Expecting something like this?" the husky voice whispered. Her head was titled, the lips dove in to claim his own.

And they would have, if Danny had not turned his head and gave a light push to the woman pinning him to the wall. "Knock it off, Zee," he muttered with a frown, untangling her from him. "That's not funny. In more ways than one."

Her lips turned downward, her face the perfect definition of hurt. It was hard to say if it was real or not. She was always hard to read. A hand was placed over her chest, and she was sure to add a heave to be sure that his attention was drawn to her ample bosom. "Why, Daniel, I'm upset you would accuse me of impropriety, even indirectly. I was only acting in character." Zee then smirked, continuing, "Or would you rather have me wearing a dirty small undershirt and pants that continually fall off my backside? I would be willing to do such if it was all it took to get you into my bed."

Danny stared at her, nonplussed. He then shook his head, slowly. "Ignoring all of that, thank you for your opinion. Though next time I think if I need a woman's opinion on an idea, I'll ask Kazzy." A moment's pause as he looked back at her. "Don't even say it."

"My lips are sealed, my sweet Daniel," Zee cheerily responded, much much too cheerily. Danny groaned.

"Anyway! What's been the word around here? Operations been going well since my retirement?"

Zee's eyes turned upwards, accessing any information that needed to be told. "We're still getting most things set up to your specifications, which have become more rigid since you won't be helping with them. So we have nothing new on that front. But," Zee clicked her tongue, her eyes lazily drawing back to Danny, "There have been rumors of either you or your, ahem, lovely ladyfriend possibly being scouted."

"What?" Danny's brows furrowed as his body tensed. "Tell me everything."

"Unconfirmed sightings of a man around your apartment complex and both places of work. Hard to tell or reach a conclusive yes or no, as we can't tell if it's the same man, or multiple, or just a series of coincidences." Zee saw the concerned look on his face, and she sighed. "I will be personally investigating the matter, and having brought it to your attention, I assume the two of us will break this case promptly. Just like old times!"

"Right, right," he mumbled, distractedly. "No confrontations if it is someone. Find out what we can first, then I'll make contact. Let me know if he makes a move on Lizzie. Then I'll really handle it myself, got it?"

Zee nodded. Then Danny mirrored it. "Good," stated simply. "Now I'm going to go home and hide this stuff and hope Lizzie reacts like you did."

Zee sighed, rolling her eyes. "Wonderful," she said, the word dripping with sarcasm and a pinch of jealousy. Danny sent her his biggest lopsided grin, and made his way from her room.

"Joseph, you get that info from the crime scene?"

The watch investigator Joseph Fowler was just returning to the station, envelopes tucked under his arms, camera hanging from the strap around his neck. He looked distracted, but the question was processed after a moment and he nodded. "Yeah," he said as he set the folders on his desk, flipping through them to open one up and remove an old wanted poster. "Remember that break-out we had a while back here? The masked kid? Witnesses place him there."

"You're kidding? Thought he left or went into hiding after that mess."

"Apparently not," Joseph muttered as he sat in his chair, a squeak coming from the old piece of furniture. "Maybe he was just laying low. Broke up a fight between some of our guys and a gang, apparently. Smacked those guys around good, didn't leave too many injuries on ours." He then paused as he continued to flip through the envelopes, one of which contained a plastic bag with a large piece of fabric inside. "Lost some of his mask though. Maybe we can comb it for hair samples. Or get some mage here to pull off residual images."

"So the investigation is?" the man trailed off as he asked the question.

"Reopened. The vigilante special unit we put together has its first target, and it's this guy," Joseph emphatically put his finger on the picture of Danny from the old wanted poster with the proclamation.

"I'm not here to explain a master plan. You were brought here for a job, Mister Brooks. I merely welcoming you to the position. Orientation, if you will."

Danny's eyes went toward the voice, more out of habit than anything else. He saw nothing, not even the white spots that dot along the black when his eyes are closed. The drugs were keeping him groggy and unable to focus his thoughts. His body was attempting to expunge the foreign substances, but without proper focus and meditation it was losing the battle.

"I'm sure you want to know how we have come to discover your name and unique set of talents. It is not important. What is important is you and your skills are under my employ," the voice continued. It was gravelly and weathered. "As you may have surmised, you are in the presence of others who are much in your same situation. Younger, though, and helpless compared to you. Naturally, we will not have you drugged when we send you out, so be aware of the control. Each time you disobey, we kill one of the children. If you escape, we kill one each hour."

Danny attempted to push toward the man, but was restrained both by shackles and the hands holding his arms. He stumbled as a rush of dizziness swept over him. It was the most feeble he had ever felt.

"The drugs are also something else. A sinister concoction, I admit. A cocktail of highly addictive substances. Eventually we will overcome your tolerance and you will beg for dosages. You may as well enjoy it. Most pay fortunes."

Danny could feel his heels drag on the soft carpet as he was pulled away, the voice sounding further and further away. "Your first assignment is in two days, Mister Brooks."

Why am I always the one that's outnumbered?

It was the only thought that came to Danny's mind before it was blanked out and set to autopilot. He managed to count up to about thirteen (including the ten or so he dispatched of outside the building) before giving up and giving an exasperated sigh as the only outward tell of frustration. There were always obstacles -- always cannon fodder he had to run to. If he were in a mood to crack jokes, he would have made one about having to tear through a group of ninjas just to go to the grocery store.

This was no time for jokes. Suspicion set in only a few days after the encounter where he learned it might be possible to time travel to prevent the death of his parents. Danny had set up a network of the orphans he befriended during his brief period in captivity, and this network was good at finding out information. Apparently the man who he spoke to a few days prior was seen with another individual -- an individual who knew nearly everything there was to know about Danny. He was put up to it, and odds are it wasn't because it was an entirely altruistic goal. After all, there were easier ways to approach Danny other than attempting to break into Kesey.

The next two nights had Danny spend them much like usual, except this time with the goal of finding out if he was being tracked. He had a pattern recently, having set his mind to cleaning up the Devil's Wake before moving outwards. His suspicion was rewarded when he was able to take note of a shadow midway through the first night. He appeared again on the second, but was able to escape when Danny attempted to confront him. There were too many questions, and Danny believed that he was purposefully being set up and someone was intentionally toying with his mind and emotions.

All that led to tonight: Danny tracking down the hangout of the person he suspected was behind sending the person to his apartment and the shadow following him. This person knew too much about him, which narrowed the list of suspects down. Danny didn't believe anyone other than Zee would follow him to RhyDin from the Reach, but apparently he was wrong. But of course, before he could confirm anything, he had to deal with the group of apparently armed and trained fighters in front of him.

The first aimed a fist at Danny's face while the second attempted a stab with a butterfly knife. These two were not the ones to be worried about. The worry was reserved for the man in the back readying what appeared to be some sort of semi-automatic weapon. A second later the muzzle flashed, and the first bullet exploded from the barrel of the gun.

The fist was on target, until the moment Danny dodged inside, using his left hand to press up into the man's right armpit and keep him in front. At the same time, Danny's right hand grabbed the wrist of the knife-wielder, twisting it outwards to guide the man behind the punch-thrower. It was then the sound of the gun was heard.

And less than a millisecond later, the bullets hit the shield of flesh Danny had assembled in front of himself just as the gun was fired. Danny released the wrist and pulled the knife from the dying man's hand, throwing it at the gunman's eye. As he heard the scream and the firing stopped, Danny tossed the dead weight toward another assailant while charging toward a swordsman. As the man aimed a decapitating swing toward Danny's neck, he leaned backwards and dropped to his knees, sliding beneath the missed attack.

A rising uppercut was delivered to the person he stopped in front of, with Danny leaping a few feet in the air. He snagged an arrow out of midair just to the left of his head with his right hand, using a tornado motion to zip it back to its original owner, where it found a home in the man's chest. Danny's feet hit the ground as the swordsman came back with a downward slash, which had its momentum stopped as Danny thrust a palm up into the man's elbows, snapping his arms in two. A roundhouse kick to his head cleared the path in front of him.

Just in time, as Danny could almost feel the breath of the giant behind him. Danny ran forward, just out of the grasp of the man as he headed to a corner. He made a slight curve in his run as he eyed another man just to one side of the corner. Then effortlessly, Danny jumped toward the wall where the bottom of his left foot hit on the right corner. With a huff Danny's right foot hit the left corner and he propelled himself off of it, spinning in midair and delivering a kick with his left foot to the skull of the man, sending him to the ground.

Before he had a chance to regain his balance, the giant had caught up. Danny didn't expect the man to move so fast, but there wasn't a chance to marvel at the speed as what felt to be a block of concrete hit his face and sent him sprawling. On his back before he knew what happened, the giant loomed over him and appeared to be ready to bring his fists down upon him like a hammer.

From his back, Danny kicked at the giant's kneecaps, sending them inside out. Before the giant had a chance to yell in pain, Danny kipped up to his feet and sent a punch to the man's groin. It was then that he bellowed in pain and doubled over, giving Danny the chance to lock his fingers behind the giant's head and pull it down into a lifting knee, which shattered every bone in his face.

It was over in less than two minutes. Danny allowed himself a moment to appreciate his work before he walked over the crumpled and moaning bodies on his way to the last door ahead of him. Figuring he'd be polite and knock before entering, Danny aimed his palm at the metal door. In the blink of an eye, the door was on the other side of the room as Danny stood in the doorway.

No need for caution, there was nobody here. Green eyes hidden behind two way mirrors scanned the room for a sight of an escape, but in the end it was inconsequential. He wasn't here. The only thing he could do was look for a clue to the identity of the man he was hunting. That wasn't hard.

Set up in the corner, the familiar looking jacket caused Danny's brows to crease in confusion. It was his old letter jacket from high school. Danny lifted it, his jaw tightening as he thought this as another attempt at a mindf---. Up until he turned it over and saw the number embroidered on the front: 08. This wasn't his letter jacket.

"David?"