** Mole's office, Mole's restaurant, Japan **

Mole is sitting beside his desk, he is leaned back on his chair and his feet are placed upon the wooden surface of the furniture piece. He's wearing a casual gray business suit and wearing a pair of square reading glasses.

The fixer is currently engrossed deeply in a conversation with on of his contacts in Japan since his colleague and friend Adam Winters requested he fix a job for him since he's in need of some extra dough while also skimming over his restaurant.

The room is completely silent besides the cold and calculating voice of the room's occupant. Mole's words mouthed with wit and caring, such is a skill the fixer has acquired over his years as a connector between the different layers of hierarchy in the "Under" ands "Upper" communities in the world an Japan in particular.

Vapors of Nicotine full smoke melt into the air, escaping a small cigarette that dangles from the corner of his mouth. Mole's face is twisted with concentration, his lips eyebrows furrowed and his eyes narrowed.

A small twitch appears one a tense muscle at the bottom his lower jaw also teaching of the Chinese man's dissatisfaction with the current tidings that he's now learning from his contact.

"You've been babbling excuses in my ear for the last 10 freakin' minutes, this is costing me a fortune you stupid Baka! Get to the point" Mole says angrily, a very thin and subtle touch of venom and bitterness hidden within his tone but also well apparent to the recipient.

He listens as the man on the other side of the receiver replies he snarls and flexes his fingers, his teeth grit and his fingers tapping on the table with irritation and impatience.

"Don't you dare f**k with me Hagimei! You still owe me 40 grand for that little escapade in Vegas, remember?" Mole says and sits normally, clearing the ashes of his cigarette in a small skull shaped ashtray.

He puffs a small cloud of smoke and inhales deeply as he continues listening to the man's words through the receiver. A few seconds pass and suddenly, Mole grits his teeth, ignoring the bitter taste of the cigarette before he spits it into the ashtray angrily.

Blood runs quickly through his veins as his anger rises and adrenaline pumps through his system, the words obviously not to his liking. He hits the table with a fist, trying to vent his frustration and closes his eyes, as he's slightly dizzy from the amount of anger he's feeling.

"What do you mean you won't hire him? WHY?" Mole asks the man on the other side of the receiver angrily. "He's one of the best in Japan, he's cheaper than most, he's professional and most importantly he works with ME! And as I said before you stupid motherf*cker you owe me!" Mole says.

"Don't you dare hang up! I...I...D*MN HIM! D*MN THEM! D*MN EVERYTHING!" Mole shouts angrily and rams his fists unto the table in frustration before holding his head in his hands.

Some light enters the room from a small window in the room, the soft nocturnal light lighting up the Chinese man's face. His eyes are red and black bags are well apparent underneath his eyes. His hands are shaking and he seems quite exhausted.

"That's the ninth Client who's refused to hire Adam in particular ...this is getting suspicious, he must be in some serious sh*t if even his most loyal employers have turned their backs on him...” Mole thinks and sighs tiredly.

Then he remembers a conversation he had with an adoscolent girl two days ago. He remembers her Kunai dagger and her looking for Adam and his tired mind puts one and two together.

“Maybe it has to do with those Shinobi, I wonder what's their problem with Adam...maybe I should dig a lil' more into this..." Mole ponders and rubs his chin.

He sighs and runs a hand in his thin and oily hair. He looks up at the ceiling and licks his lower lip. "The things I do for that man...I'll call up my boys and ask'em to check the word on the street, gotta find out why nobody'll hire Adam..." Mole thinks as he sits straight.

He picks up the receiver and taps on some digits. He hums a tune he heard on the radio softly under his breath. He also taps his fingers to the tune as the dial tone rings.

3 rings later a voice answers him, he smiles and sits straight. "Ahh Shinetsu my old friend, how're you?" Mole asks in fluent Japanese while wearing a sly smile on his scrawny face.

"That's good to hear, Hai, I'd be happy if I won 200000 Yen at the racing tracks as well. Yes, actually I do have something I'd like to ask of you..." Mole says.

"I need you to check the word on the street for me, I'm currently engrossed in some business and can't be bothered, k'?" Mole asks in a friendly tone.

"I need ya to do some digging, Yeah I know you're a busy man, but you still owe me for bailing you out of that drug deal with the Colombians last year..."

"Hehe...a good fixer don't forget, you should know that by now, ne? Anyway, I need you to lend me your ear, find out why nobody's willing to hire my boy Adam Winters" Mole says.

"Whadda mean you already know? Well then tell me!" Mole says, curiosity oozing from his every word as he sits straight and breathes heavily, his eyes narrowed as he awaits the answer.

"Nobody will hire Adam winters cause...*click, dead dial tone*" Mole hears before the lights die down as well. He looks at the phone shocked "NO! NOT NOW! Godd*mned freaking generator!" He mutters and closes the phone.

He growls angrily and hits the table "Talk about lousy timing! I'll go flip the f**kin' switch." Mole thinks before he looks forward.

Suddenly his eyes widen and he gasps in shock as a silhouette dashes toward him the moonlight shifts it's angle and for a split second Mole can see who's approaching him, but that second is all he has

"Oh sh..." he begins. But he doesn't manage to finish his sentence.

The emotion known as fear, the one of man's most primal instincts is all Mole can bring to mind as an untenable figure dashes toward him at the very short period of time, his other sides pushed aside by the calamity that is about to befall upon him.

Sharp pain explodes in an area above his left shoulder, then a split second of calm before the sweet touch of unconsciousness engulfs him as the shadows embrace him and his limp form crashes onto his desk.

** Meanwhile Back at the Prison under the vast Negev Desert, Israel **

Joseph is looming over the woman, his face beading with sweat as well as his body under the tight leather suit which he is clad in. His black eyes seem to glitter with evil and sinister satisfaction giving the already eerie looking man an even more frightening look.

Joseph wears a smug smirk as he runs a hand in his silvery hair that is now damp with slight sweat, he arranges the now slightly wild locks with his hands and chuckles lightly.

While Joseph is the mirror of apparent glee and satisfaction, the woman is quite obviously the complete opposite.

This woman who is known to be regal, beautiful, one who wears an aura of serenity and complete calm is now shivering and sobbing on the floor like a dog beaten by a stick, though this poor soul has suffered much worse than any canine could ever withstand.

Her lithe and soft skin is flushed, and her nude body is now covered with bruises, these being a direct result of one of her warden's favorite hobbies.

The Psychic known as Joseph is a sick and twisted man, whose evil and corrupt soul have driven him insane as he is confined between the walls of the metallic prison. The constant isolation, the boredom and bitterness of his appointment to this place, all these have transformed a once proud and kind young man into a complete monster.

His hobbies consist of beating his captive; raping her, taunting her and practicing his basic Psychic attacks on the poor woman's psyche. Such has his life been for the last 2 and a half years ever sithe woman was captured by the council and imprisoned within this place.

"Well, Well, Well...After over 2 years you're finally learning Rose. Heh, usually you'd be sobbing and screaming more by now, what's the matter, do you like it by now perhaps?" He asks and rams his foot in her ribcage with such force it sends the purple haired woman crashing into the wall forcefully.

She flinches and collapses to her back. She hugs herself and closes her eyes; suddenly her bracelets flicker in purple as she grits her teeth. He was pushing her, he always had, but few were the times when her latent power actually had the ability to show under the powerful nullifying influence of the binding bracelets.

So it seems the boot you received in your pretty lil' face has finally taught you to obey my commands, eh? Has it? You masochistic b*tch! You like being hit! It turns you on, don't it?" He asks, taunting her further.

He has never pushed her quite like this. He always liked giving her a flicker of hope before taking it from her, stripping her of another small portion of her humanity and will to live, or rather the little shards of it which still remained intact from all she's been through already.

Rose crawls into a sitting position and cradles her head on her knees. For years now she had remained passive, she had bottled all her rage, woes and agony inside her heart.

She knows better than to try to escape THEM, but THIS man, THIS monster was starting to drill into her core of being and bring out the dormant dark and evil side which Rose seldom unleashed.

Few were the times were such rage had successfully consumed her, her eyes snap open and glow in a very furious shade of purple. "You...YOU...B*STARD!" She shouts and suddenly lunges at him, forcing her weak body to obey her as adrenaline flows through her veins.

She doesn't care about her lack of powers; she doesn't care about her nudity or the pain the bracelets inflict on her as she tries to summon her Soul power. All she cares about at the current moment is wiping the smug, the evil grin off her rapist's, her torturer's, her antagonist's face.

Joseph chuckles darkly and blocks a swift kick direct to his face by Rose and the follow up spin kick. Rose suddenly feels dizzy and barely able to stand and falls back even without being helped by Joseph.

"You forget your place, you're weak, hungry, an evil and vile spirit, you'll never escape us, you'll suffer for all eternity you stupid b*tch...now pay for your insolent actions!" He shouts and his eyes burst into black flames.

Rose curls into a ball and braces herself for a blow. She doesn't have to wait long before a flame covered fist rams into her left cheek. The force of the energy combined with the momentum of the blow send her crashing into the wall with such a walloping force she's knocked to her front side after hitting the wall, unable to move.

She lies on the cold metal floor, shivering, moaning and sobbing for her accursed fate. Joseph hmphs and spits on her "B*tch..." he mutters and turns to leave.

Rose raises her face to look at his back; her stunningly beautiful purple eyes, once full of warmth, knowledge and confidence now fill with frustration and rage. Both of these mixed with great fear. Indeed Rose realizes she will not be able to take much more of this treatment, she was near insanity and desperation already, she need liberation somehow, for someone to save her, but who would do that she ponders.

She hears the door of her cell slide shut as Joseph slips into the shadows and leaves her. She crawls over to the small blanket the council gave her. She's barely able to move since her body so weak of famine and the injuries she had received under Joseph's evil ways.

She grabs It and very weakly with a shivering hand pulls it toward herself, She wraps the thin blanket around her body and curls into a ball, desperately hoping to gain some warmth as the floor she lays on it ice cold.

Meanwhile as Rose curses Joseph in her mind and sobs over her state Joseph arranges the collar of his shirt and sits down by a table. He sits down on a leather chair beside it and grabs some water from a nearby bottle.

He drinks the water thirstily while closing his eyes, savoring the soothing sensation of the H2O cooling his throbbing and dry throat, the waters sinking deep into his body, sucked quicker then rain in the desert sand above him.

After all the 12 ounce bottle of water slides down his throat he removes the bottle from his lips and wipes the small drops that remain upon them with his sleeve.

"Thirsty aren't we little psychic?" A deep and bone chilling voice speaks from behind him. Joseph's eyes snap open as he suddenly swings his hand back in what seems to be sheer instinct to hit the intruder.

The blow hits nothing but the wall; Joseph grimaces as his fist slams into the metal wall but to his dismay his target not there. The phenomenon freaks Joseph to some degree as he rises to his feet quickly to pursue this intruder in a better position.

"Show yourself coward!" Joseph says and his eyes catch black flames. His hands burst into energy as he hears a clang behind him and turns around while releasing a quick blast of his power.

The intruder laughs a loud rolling and booming laugh. His voice seems to echo around Joseph, constantly circling around him in a quite frightening speed. So fast does he move, that it is impossible for Joseph to lay eyes on him, all he can see is a blur.

"Touchy little psychic aren't we? Why are you so jumpy boy, I just want to play" the voice speaks.

Joseph suddenly smirks "Play eh? Play with this!" he says and crouches while swinging his hands down. Both fists crash onto the metallic floor accompanied by audible clanging sounds.

Joseph feels his power erupt violently, coursing through his nerves and blood and swiftly being directed to his hands. A giant pillar surrounds the psychic and expands around him till it reaches all the walls.

Burning the fluorescent light bulbs on the ceiling and leaving the room in total darkness now.

Joseph then stands up and breathes heavily, using the energy was not a simple feat. He looks around and sees nothing. He blinks a few times and tries to use his psychic sense to find his foe.

He catches a presence nearby, too nearby for his liking, but his revelation is a second too late as suddenly a blow slams into his nose with crushing force. The blow is so powerful it sends the man catapulting back and slamming forcefully onto the metal wall while also breaking his nose.

"Nasty little trick, useless and harmless, but still that stung a bit, anyway...I'm wasting my time on you...so let's get down to business initiate. Open the prisoner's cell with your power so I might leave. If you do, you might live to see another sunrise, If not well, It won't be pretty..." The man says and Joseph suddenly feels a force pinning him to the wall and choking him.

But to his shock and dismay not tangible force or substance binds him, but alas he is still left paralyzed and immobile like a puppet being played by a set of giant strings.

Joseph grits his teeth and shuts his eyes tightly finding hare to breathe, blood choking him and flowing into his mouth. He spits it and coughs before channeling all the power he can muster to try and move and break the powerful hold the mystery figure's hold on him.

But yet again he is left disappointed and frustrated as it is of no avail and the hold is left intact.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, I expected more from a council initiate, but then again, you are weak and foolish...Joseph is it? Hmm...that's why they threw you in this dump, isn't it? You're a failure and they're too nice to say it in your face. How Interesting...Someone who's nothing, pathetic, foolish..." the voice speaks.

"ENOUGH! SHOW YOURSELF AND FIGHT LIKE A MAN!" Joseph bellows and manages in his rage to unbind himself and stand straight, entering a fighting stance and baring his teeth.

"So the little initiate has a death wish? Do you seek annihilation at my hands boy? Surely that is the only possible explanation you little weakling, you second graded non-talented wretch..." the voice continu.

"AAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGH!" Joseph growls in animalistic rage and lunges toward the concentration of Chi he feels, sending quick and wild blows at, each attack backed up by his power and inhuman speed.

His right fist flies forward, blocked. His left follows in a different angle, aiming at is probably the attacker's face, dodged. Joseph feels more and more fear as it seeps into his heart due since his foe proves his superiority over him in every possible level.

Joseph sends fake punch, the bait is eaten and Joseph spins around in blurry speed sending a kick to the man's chin. Joseph goes wide-eyed, as the impossible occurs, a blow that no fighter could possible block is caught by his foe's hand and his foot is pushed down.

Joseph doesn’t relent and leaps upwards while spinning trying to kick the man before he can block; the figure ducks under the kicks and rolls under Joseph standing up behind him.

The figure then kicks him in the rear side while laughing “You really do suck, my god you’re pathetic.” The figure says and chuckles at Joseph as he’s pushed forward by the blow and lands on his front side.

Joseph suddenly sweeps the figure’s feet and before rising to his feet, the figure seems to spin in midair and lands on its hands before balancing itself to its feet again.

A dark and sinister laughter once more fills the darkness as the man makes Joseph feel great shame, anger and bloodlust as he suddenly with inhuman speed slaps Joseph so hard it is as if Joseph's teeth rattle from the blow. Joseph is then sent into a spiral, crashing onto the ground heavily once more.

"He slapped me! I can't believe it! That stupid sonevab*tch! I'll rip the motherf**ker's heart out!" Joseph thinks and feels his power collect into his body. Very soon tendrils of black fire dance around his skin, licking his clothes and circling him as he gets up heavily wearing a very dark and angry facade.

His eyes explode with black fire as he feels all his muscles tense and his breathing becomes very irate "Ebony vengeance!" He shouts as he begins spinning. He unleashes all his power and he seems to explode into flames.

He hears a colliding of something on metal as he guesses that foe is seemingly hit by the powerful move. But to his dismay a boot rams into his face and sends him staggering back heavily, apparently his foe had kicked off the wall and propelled himself forward while extending his foot.

"Sloppy, careless...I expected as much from the likes of you Joseph, you really are a sorry excuse for a psychic you know that?" the man says and chuckles at the tired and angry prison warden.

A flurry of punches and blows are next rained down on Joseph's mystery foe, punches and kicks sent at lightning fast speed at the figure. So fast are some of the attacks that their movement is hardly traceable and blurry. Yet despite the very impressive offensive onslaught. Each blow swatted or dodged in a sound and calm manner.

The intruder is still shroud by a blanket of darkness, making it impossible to recognize him, and thus his origin or power. It seems as if his foe knows his every move before he strikes, He seems to always be a step ahead of Joseph.

"Weak...pathetic...worthless...is that really all you got? Oh please, at least force me to break a sweat" The intruder speaks as he soundly mends Joseph's attacks useless, harming his pride and shattering Joseph's hopes and confidence systematically with his actions, stripping him of any chance of victory or showing his true prowess.

Joseph then tries another punch before he feels it swatted once more, but this time fingers curl around his wrist and twist his hand, Joseph curses mentally before a blow sweeps his feet and the man uses his hand to twists him around and slams him onto the ground.

Joseph then feels a large hand grabs him by the neck, fingers coil around his flesh, locking him in visor-like iron grip that choke the life out of the exhausted psychic.

He is then lifted by his foe easily and for the first time the man shows his face and power as his face is lit from an unholy and dark power that blazes brightly from within the bowls of his eyes and probably his soul as well.

"You...you're...no...it's impossible! You're the... *choke, cough, grunt*" Joseph mutters weakly. His eyes lose their flame, and instead of rage fear and panic invade the wells of black. He fights against the iron grip in vain as he begins to choke and become dizzy.

"Yes Joseph, That's right, I am the one you speak of in a way. And you were indeed foolish and arrogant to stand in my path. Oh well now I'm going to have to deal with you, but not now, I have to see my soon to be guest first, so excuse me" the man says.

Suddenly from the surface of the man's fingers that are placed on the delicate area of Joseph's neck and an eerie power is sent forth into his nerve system. Joseph then gurgles and coughs before the pressure causes him to fall unconscious.

** Meanwhile, far from there, outside a large mansion, Scotland **

The Scottish night is cold, and winds blow swiftly upon the currents of the air. The astonishing scenery of green vegetation and trees decorates the earth, making the scenery of poets’ dreams.

Though within this landscape a single structure stands out within this beautiful nature scenery. This structure being a giant Victorian styled Mansion, the building covered with expensive and beautifully crafted statues, Roman styled pillars, gargoyles and a perfectly polished marble floor.

But beyond this artistic objects something else covers the mansion’s grounds, guards, large Scottish men with AK-47 rifles, ready to open fire on any intruder to their employer’s household.

They patrol around the balconies and before the gate’s their eyes open wide and sharp as an eagle’s. But they fail to miss a figure hiding in the shadows. This figure being male and now hunching behind a large boulder, placing his back against the stone looking at the guards carefully in a stealthy way.

”Hmm…lots of guards…lots of rifles, little maneuvering ground, I like it…now I guess it’s time I act, lord X is an impatient man after all…” The figure thinks and suddenly its eyes glow in faint red.

“Ahh how I love infra vision and advantages over my foes. Now for the firepower…hehe” he mutters to himself before reaching for his side. He picks up an M-16 rifle with a built in Grenade launcher.

He straps it on before loading it with armor piercing bullets. Then he grabs two 9mm guns also armed with silencers and straps them to both sides of his hips after loading them each with a clip of Incendiary bullets.

Then the moon shifts its white rays of light and illuminates the figure. The man is Jason in a commando outfit; his fiberglass covered eyes red with miniature yellow writing running across them.

“Time to have some fun…” he thinks and grabs one of his Pistols before moving into a kneeling position. Then he hunches sideways very carefully and aims his gun at one of the guards near the gate.

Meanwhile two of the guards are conversing merrily with eachother “Aye Argyle, I agree, but the pay’s good, and we need it for our ladies aye?” One of them says while chuckling.

“That’d be right lad, I indeed need a lot of money to feed m’kids. Ya think we’ll get see’em soon, because…” He says, that’s the last sentence he’ll ever mouth as suddenly something hits his temple and pieces through it.

Blasting two holes on both sides and leaving large trails of crimson and brain oozing on the ground as the man collapses.

“Argyle! Noooo!” The other man shouts before moving for his rifle. He turns around only to see a demonic looking man with red eyes aiming a gun at him and smiling evilly.

He moves and tries to open fire but he’s too late and soon a bullet hits him right between the eyes and blows half his skull apart. Obviously killing him instantly and preventing him from calling his friends.

Jason smiles and hears guards running toward the closed gate. He kneels on one knee while holding his rifle ready. His built in targeting system giving him a very high advantage over his foes, it being only one of the many warfare devices X had implanted in his cyborg.

“Sheamus, what’s wrong? Why’d ya shout Argyle’s name?” one of them shouts from the other side of the gate.

When they receive no answer they open the gate. Just as they do Jason grins very evilly, if one would look through Jason’s eyes he could see pixelized crosshairs targeting each of the guards and small writing telling him how to aim his rifle to hit with the bullets. Also soft electronic jolts signal him when his rifle is in the right position so he doesn’t miss.

He follows his system’s readings that only come as a backup, for if needed he has his own superb skill and prowess in this sort of combat. He pulls the trigger. Jason’s M-16 begins shaking as bullets are sent forth from the barrel.

The men are helpless to defend themselves as multiple bullets pierce their body, cutting through clothing, flesh and bone alike, leaving them screaming in fear and pain as they’re hit. In the end all that is left is a bloody and mangled mess of corpses when Jason concludes that they are surely dead.

The gunfire’s bangs fill the night air, piercing the serene silence of the wilderness; soon many guards start pouring toward the gate. Jason chuckles evilly and runs toward the gate.

He takes something from a pocket and slams it on the wall; it’s a small C4 charge. He arms it and dashes toward the rocks again. Some guards spot him and they open fire immediately.

“Kill the murdering scum,” one shouts.

Jason manages to avoid being hit by most of the bullets, but some hit and rebound off his synthetic skinned back. The guards look shocked but keep on firing despite their amazement at Jason’s ability to survive being hit by rounds of bullets.

“Forth of July was a few months ago, but that doesn’t mean I can’t play with fireworks now” Jason mutters to himself and ticks a button on a small remote he takes out of his pocket.

As he does the small C4 charge explodes into a huge mushroom of flames. An audible boom ensues and shakes the foundations of the whole building. The fiery power of the plastic based bomb utterly decimating the whole wall apart.

Beside the stone its recoil burns and tears apart the guards as well. Very little is left of them or the wall when the boom subsides. All that’s left is scorched bedlam. Blood, stone and burnt remains of what used to be humans, all these now stain the once green, lush and grassy grounds.

Jason admires the scenery of his work with a smirk “Gotta love the smell of death, fire and burnt flesh” he mutters and reloads his M-16 again before sneaking into the complex’s center.

He scans the surroundings with his cybernetic eyes, picking up heat readings from all around him; he curses mentally and dives aside just as many guards move out of hiding places on the balconies and open fire at him.

He was maybe made of synthetic material that could block some bullets but even it couldn’t do everything, one of two already damages the surface but a thousand meant death to him.

He fires wildly trying to force them back in order to reach some kind of cover, his plan works and the men duck under the railing of the balconies as he fires.

When his clip is empty he’s forced to run for his life.

“Shoot the monstrous murder! Kill him!” One of them shouts and Jason finds himself stuck in crossfire between the two balconies, he runs toward a supporting pillar of one of the balconies and hides behind it.

Bullets carve onto the stone, cutting out large chunks of it at a frightening pace. Jason fires back from his sheltered spot, taking down several guards, but not enough to ease his problems.

Several minutes pass and Soon he’s left with only one M-16 ammunition clip and he moves to fire with his pistols. Jason grins and chuckles darkly, the sound clouded by the loud gunfire.

“Idiots…you’re doing my work for me…” he thinks and stops firing once he’s depleted those as well, and just in time in his opinion. He arms his Grenade launcher part of the rifle.

Then he does a quick spin and releases a grenade from his rifle’s built in component, it sails through the air and aims itself in a wide arc towards the balcony in front of him.

The grenade perfectly lands at its target, right in front of the defending guards and explodes. Once again a hellfire of flames ensues and a boom rattles the building as screams of pain fill the air, but are overshadowed by the boom.

Jason is thrown onto the wall by the recoil of the blast, he grunts and shakes his head before recomposing himself quickly and leaping into the air. He spins around and kicks the pillar beside him with a very swift and powerful aerial roundhouse.

The collision of his cybernetic limb against the already torn and broken stone is enough to shatter it into two pieces. Jason then lands on his feet and does a roll forward thus avoiding being crushed as the whole balcony falls apart throwing the guards down with it. As they fall Jason unloads his last ammunition clip into their bodies, literally filling them up with lead.

In the end the whole inside of the white mansion is now covered with crimson, the Victorian ornaments burning and shattered, the once perfect marble floors now left bloody and cracked, the whole mansion torn apart. Jason chuckles at his plight.

He throws his M-16 off as he’s out of ammunition. He checks and curses his pistol are also out of ammo as well as busted from the collision against the wall seconds earlier. He throws them away as well and cracks his fists.

“Hmm…time for some survival games, time to seek and destroy the old fashion way” He mutters and grins, that is before a voice cuts his thread of thought.

“What are you? That you your psyche is blocked out from my power? Are you a psychic? And you are aware for destroying my house I am going to have to make you pay” A deep and calm voice speaks to him.

Jason spins around and lays eyes upon a tall man, with Red hair and a quite impressive built. The man’s eyes are an inhuman shade of orange and he peers on Jason curiously.

“I’m a messenger of your death William Greystone, and I doubt I’ll be ready to pay, old man” Jason says and enters his stance. The man chuckles lightly.

Jason was order by Xavier to assassinate this old man, one of the most powerful and ancient members of the council while X tends to some personal business. He told Jason the man was strong but not in par with X or the late Bison’s power.

Somehow thinking back at his briefing that doesn’t reassure Jason as he look at his target a little warily. ”What the h*ll was he thinking, sending me after a psychic who’s lived more than 400 years” he thinks and curses Xavier

“You insolent fool, not only do insult me but you also challenge me? I have lived to see empires born and die, I’ve fought warriors strong and weak, what makes you think you have the power to stop me?” he asks as his eyes begin glowing softly.

Jason grins and his eyes shift color into green, now scanning movements and not heat readings. He smirks “Simple fact, you’re Psionic potential won’t work on me, my master has made sure of that…old man” Jason says and smirks.

“Ahhh, but what your master probably doesn’t know is that I am not only a Telepath, I’m also a Pyrokentic,” he says and his eyes burst into scarlet flames and similar flames surround his fist.

“Now that I didn’t know…” Jason says and gulps. This surprising new twist in the battle’s odds is far from being to his liking, making him quite nervous.

“You’ve heard of the Kusanagi and Yagami families, of Kyo and Iori, of the King of fighters tournament, yes?” He asks.

Jason nods slowly and chuckles nervously. “Who do you think taught their families how to channel fire, the pope?” he asks and laughs audibly.

Jason goes wide-eyed “Well d*mn…you could’ve told me this Xavier…now this is gonna make my job a lot harder…” he mutters under his breath and scowls.

“Nevertheless, your time is up old man, prepare to die!” Jason says and hops lightly on his feet.

Greystone laughs and floats a little over the ground “Very well, I’ll indulge your stupid attempts, I haven’t incinerated a human in a while anyway.” He muses.

Jason grins at his words, and the element of surprise he’s going to have on the old Psyc“Whoever said I was human…” he thinks and lunges forward.