God help him, he’d started to get comfortable. He had a job he liked, a well-honed team that gave him purpose (and that, after all these years, echoed what he remembered as the best days of the academy), and a government-funded house with Allison, and things were stable.
Of course, then came January 14th. More out-of-control powers exploding all over the city, the team mustering more often, more rebel activity than there had been in ages, more risky missions than they’ve tackled in a while. Tonight, there’s a flaming wreckage of a crash on the highway, a transport gone wrong, a battle breaking out on the street between enforcers and resistance metas.
The battle feels like home.
There’s a smooth grace to the way Allison fights, and even after so many years, Luther finds himself pausing to admire it; his attention slipping for a second, his head turning to watch her whirl and kick and a ferocious smirk spread across her face.
Then one of the fighters comes for him, but even as they start lunging for him, the tall blond man is simply… not there anymore.
Blink. And Luther’s gone, reappearing several feet behind the attacker, and there’s the easy pull of a trigger and another body hitting the ground.
Blink.
Number Five had been terrifying with this power, a tiny nimble whirling dervish of lethal energy — and his twin brother, handed the same ability, is no less. Luther’s a massive shadow falling across them, a pair of hands twisting and snapping bone, flinging bodies left and right. He doesn’t mouth off like Five once did in their missions; just sets himself silently, methodically, to ruthless work.
and the ending’s not the same, they changed it from the book / closed to allison hargreeves
Of course, then came January 14th. More out-of-control powers exploding all over the city, the team mustering more often, more rebel activity than there had been in ages, more risky missions than they’ve tackled in a while. Tonight, there’s a flaming wreckage of a crash on the highway, a transport gone wrong, a battle breaking out on the street between enforcers and resistance metas.
The battle feels like home.
There’s a smooth grace to the way Allison fights, and even after so many years, Luther finds himself pausing to admire it; his attention slipping for a second, his head turning to watch her whirl and kick and a ferocious smirk spread across her face.
Then one of the fighters comes for him, but even as they start lunging for him, the tall blond man is simply… not there anymore.
Blink. And Luther’s gone, reappearing several feet behind the attacker, and there’s the easy pull of a trigger and another body hitting the ground.
Blink.
Number Five had been terrifying with this power, a tiny nimble whirling dervish of lethal energy — and his twin brother, handed the same ability, is no less. Luther’s a massive shadow falling across them, a pair of hands twisting and snapping bone, flinging bodies left and right. He doesn’t mouth off like Five once did in their missions; just sets himself silently, methodically, to ruthless work.