Chapter Text
The phantom pain of his missing eye jerks him awake. William Ellis brings his hands to his head, pressing lightly to make it go away.
"Just in time, I was going to wake you up. Our station is here, let's get down." says Luca Balsa over the speaker. He stands up and pats the dust off his coat, turns his mechanically enhanced eyes to William. The latter retracts the hand from his scars and readjusts his goggles over them. “This is the terminus, we have a bit of time to spare if you need.” The smaller man says, a crooked, but nonetheless warm grin on his face. William Ellis – the taller of the two – sighs and stretches as he raises from his seat, his leather jacket squirting softly from the movement. “Nah, I’m alright mate, let’s go.” Luca nods and leads the way, his blonde head bobbing occasionally as he rambles about the event they are going to attend.
“– since then Universal Exhibitions have been presenting increasingly revolutionary inventions and concepts; and for each edition, theoretically impossible structures have been brought to life as a testament of science’s potential to reshape our lives. If you ask me, there have been more and less successful attempts, such as…”
William tunes out soon enough however, as his eyes wander to the grandiose structures and neons swirling on the front of the main theatre hosting the current Exhibition. The building without its lights looks ancient and noble, like a heritage of a time now lost. Yet, with the neon lights adorning it, it’s as if the palace had been gifted a new life. He remembers hearing that the organisation had been quite rough, especially with the Metropolis’ travel restrictions.
William sighs, with those restrictions only Victor and Luca can normally go, as this edition of the exhibition is held in dual fashion - the separation being made on the social class that could attend. The “VIP” event hosts not only the most innovative creations, but also their makers. How Victor managed to qualify William to such an event is beyond him, but to prove their standing as high-society, the duo had to give their IDs - their true identities - to the organisers of the event in order to get the tickets. If something were to go wrong, the corrupt police force would not only have their faces, but their names and addresses as well.
Luca answers as if he is reading William’s mind. “Don’t worry. We are just here to see an old acquaintance of mine. Nothing should happen aside from maybe a few passive-aggressive lines from the coward.”
“I take it you’re on bad terms ? He’s your mentor right ?” William wonders, reminiscing about the mission presentation Luca, Jose and Patricia prepared for the occasion. He has to refrain a chuckle; they had given their all on it, but in the end Luca - as the perfectionist he is - corrected every tiny irrelevant mistake made. Him and Patricia began to argue on the matter, and in the end William and Jose bet on the one who would gain Victor on their side. William won a very fine bottle of wine.
“Was my mentor. And we parted ways because I couldn’t stand… Well, most of everything he was doing at the time. Knowing him I doubt that he has changed, so expect him to be bitter and rude about my departure. But don’t worry, I doubt we’ll even come close to wanting to strangle him.”
“Very reassuring.” William hums in irony.
“Take it as a test of patience! And don’t worry, I’ll film everything so you can train again when this is over.” Luca grins again. A confident demeanour and a few jokes… He seems in high spirits despite it all, notices William.
The music gets louder as they progress, and soon enough they can hear the Eternal Aurora's bewitching voice. Right, she’s one of the sponsors after all. The entrance is full of guards. Half of them human and half of them machines, the former to check for the identities and the latter in case something happens.
Luca passed the gates smoothly, but for William…
“Webb Ellis ?” repeats the guard, as if he is sure he has heard the name somewhere but forgot. “Isn't it… Anyway, we have you in our database. But would you mind lowering your goggles for a bit ? It’s the procedure, we have to make sure your face is the same as the photo we have.”
The thing is William minds, actually. He needs to be discreet after all. He leans on to the guard, lowering his voice a bit.
"Usually I'd love to but… You see I'm getting an implant soon, the surgery is in a few days as it happens." He confides the next part to the guard in a hushed voice: "The area has been prepared and I'm a bit shy to show it now, when in a few days… Well, I'll be as good as new. You see what I mean ?"
Comprehension dawns on the officer's face. "Ah yes of course ! I should've known, my apologies." William gets off the guard's private space with a relieved smile. "It's alright, people don't usually realise until they go through it." He reassures while waving his hand to shoo the matter away.
The guard nods. "With this matter resolved let me welcome you to the Great Exhibition of the Metropolis." He takes a step on the side to let the man enter. "May your surgery open a new world for you." He smiles warmly.
"Oh don't worry about that !" William answers as he walks in. He taps his forearm lightly. "Those ones have done the job already !"
Luca is grinning yet again when the taller one reaches up to him. "What am I hearing ? You're getting an eye prosthetic and you didn't even consult me ?" He muses. The camera in his left eye flickers.
William snickers and pushes the smaller man further into the exhibition. "Shush now ! I know I'm not the best liar but I don't need you to blow my cover."
"Oh but it was a very convincing bluff actually !" Luca cheerfully provides while letting the other push him around through the butlers with champagne and the rows of booths. "You should have seen my face when I got my eye, it was all-" William stops their motion right in front of a stall, startling the smaller man. Upon discovering that the booth is themed around "independent cinema", Luca immediately drops his tirade and launches himself into another monologue, muttering to no one, examining carefully the inventions and novel ideas presented.
William hums in contentment for a distraction well-done. He follows idly, keeping a lazy eye on the film-lover like one who would try not to lose a child in a crowd. He takes in the flow of celebrities and aristocrats, the animated arguments and the heated discussions. Over it all the voice of the Aurora echoes, reverberated through the speakers and through the halls. She sings as if she is the muse and the musician, heartfelt words and detached voice perfectly flowing in the tempo.
The man with bleached hair listens only for a brief moment before he shakes the melody out of his head. He’ll just let Luca finish his tour before heading directly to the objective of their mission.
They did not expect their target to have a special room prepared for him. Luca and William searched through the multiple halls before stealing a plan from a guard and noticing the backroom used by a certain “Prismatic Light”. Luca made a grimace at the pseudonym his mentor chose after he left.
Knocking as a sign of peace before entering the backstage room (technically these zones aren’t out-of-bound for VIP visitors, but still), William opens the door before receiving any answer, the Auditorium - Luca - following him closely behind and closing the door after them. William pushes a thick red curtain to access the centre of the room. Richly decorated with ornaments on the walls and around the windows; neon lights arranged like tentacles around the art déco touches, the decoration contrasts starkly with the ambient chaos. The men have to be careful not to step on the screws and pieces of machinery littering the place, lingering on the tables and carpets alike.
The duo sees a man in his fifties, both eyes mechanical and the left side of his face covered with metal skin. The glasses he uses seem to be of protective nature rather than to help his vision, edges rough among the long, finest clothing and most delicate fabric. His hands are moving deftly - with an accuracy and a fluidity that subtly falls into the uncanny valley. Looking closely, an elaborate exoskeleton is adorning them, melting into the skin and dictating the movements, the flesh and bones becoming like puppets, the metal their guiding thread.
The scientist is bowing on to his plans, on his right an almost-completed machine. Its bowels are open to the world, its use a mystery for the newcomers. Upon hearing the door closing the man bites out “I do not want your blasted champagn-” as he levels up his gaze. He stops when he sees the two men before him, confusion and then surprise on his face when his irises shift quickly, adjusting their depth of field. He removes his protective glasses. He recognises the Auditorium.
“Luca ?” His surprise fades soon, replaced with bitter rage. “Are you here to sabotage me again, blame me for your misfortune ? You can try, we both know how it ended last time.”
“Still playing the victim to convince yourself that there is nothing you could have done without even trying ? I see that “last time” didn’t teach you anything worthwhile.” Luca retorts.
William intervenes, trying to divert both men’s attention. “What is this invention ? Will it be for the main event ? I saw your name on the flyer, Professor Prismatic Light.”
The professor huffs, upset with his former disciple but clearly lashing on to the occasion to change the subject. “It is for the main event indeed, if you must know. The Eternal Aurora has taken an interest in my work and has sponsored me for the creation of this jewel of technology.” He says as a matter of fact. “The Aurora herself ?” William fakely wonders. Speaking of the devil, her voice can be heard even in the backstage room, he notices, as if no place in the Metropolis is out of her reach.
“Why yes; for she is a lady of science and of arts. Nothing can hide from her educated gaze.” Prismatic Light confesses as he turns his lenses back to the screw he was sewing before the two men arrived.
“So she sponsors you ? Or commissioned for a new creation ?” Asks Luca, venom gone and interest picked. He takes a few steps and begins to inspect the creation.
“A bit of both; I presented to her my plans and added a few adjustments that she suggested…” The man’s mood seems to sour at the thought. “I moved on from previous projects, and it is for the better.”
The Auditorium sighs and pinches his nose. “Really ? It’s no wonder that the thing looks more like a first draft than a true invention. It isn’t even half done.” He waves his hand designating the machine and then it’s various pieces lying here and there. “Admit it; you’re late and the thing isn’t near ready to meet the public eye, and that’s why you haven’t kicked me out of this room yet.”
“Mind your tongue, Luca.” The man drawls. “I never thought the Metropolis could forget so fast, but I must guess you have been sent by that woman to check on the progress. Let her know that everything is going according to plan, and be gone from my sight. You aren’t needed here." That woman ? Must be the Aurora, which means she knows that the machine won't be presentable for the exhibition's main event... Deduced William, watching the scene unfold, unsure how to de-escalate the situation now. Luca took a step toward the old inventor. "Must you always assume the world revolves around you ? Even if she sent me here doesn't mean that I'll step on your level and waste my time in lies and venom of years past !"
"You speak of what you do not know, eager to misinterpret and to repeat mistakes over and over again. I know better than to waste my energy into fruitless endeavour.”
"Would you now ? You conceal and you lie, refusing to face said mistakes, never trusting others with the truth and blaming them for not acting how you would like them to ! You feel like you have to move on because you refuse to surmount the obstacles in your way !”
"Your naivety is astounding; not every obstacle is meant to be surpassed, and I have already lost too much to realise this mere fact.”
There’s the smell of thunder in the air ; the calm before the storm.
“You speak of loss as if you haven’t spat on my father’s grave.”
Uh-oh. William readies himself to intervene in case one or the other would try to throw hands.
"You don’t understand. You never have. You never will.”
There is no tone in the professor’s voice. It is somehow more chilling, more tinted with grief than any other word muttered.
The lights begin to flicker rapidly. The Aurora’s voice distorts itself in the speakers. The Auditorium takes another step; towering over the old man in spirit, in spite of his small size.
“Despite the years, despite it all you have never changed ! You continue to clam up as if it would absolve you of your sins, trapped in the past while I found myself a cause, something worth my creations - my life - and worth so many others. You on the other hand ? You barely know what you are doing, your work has gotten even sloppier - and I didn’t know it could be possible - you even end up working for the Eternal Aurora of all people ! You almost admitted how your plans had no value nor use until she could figure out one for you to complete it ! I bet you barely remember the reason why I left; drunk on misery as you are. When did you stoop so low ? How did you end up at that point ?” He spits out, coloured with rage and his mission for the Pirate Radio clearly ruined by now.
" You know nothing. "
Prismatic Light barely moves for a few seconds, his knuckles turning white on the screwdriver he was using until the argument broke out. He makes a movement to rise from his seat and William quickly steps in, an arm raised before Luca to protect him from whatever may be coming.
The lights go out.
The Aurora’s voice doesn’t reach anymore.
The audience screams.
Complete darkness envelops the exhibition and the metropolis as a whole ; a city without sun nor stars or moon at the mercy of a pitch-black chasm. William takes a step back in surprise, accidentally shoving Luca in the process. He can only hear the other stumble with a confused yelp. The whisper and cries of metal echo in the small room. The Vanguard hears a chair fall to the ground - the professors’ ? - he barely feels the air flow of an impact and braces immediately; blocking a hit that sends him flying backward. Knocked into the opposite wall, his breath is knocked away and his vision goes blurry for a split second too long. His valid eye catches the glow of purple neons and the hissing light of colliding metals. Quickly the fight seems to end with the sound of an object piercing flesh. The wound absorbs the blade and regurgitates blood, and the noise repeats itself. Multiple stabs follow. William feels the wall behind him with his hands as he tries to regain his footing, disoriented and slightly shaking, his legs barely functional; did he accidentally disable his wheels’ lock under the stress ? He can’t feel his body and only dares looking in front of him, the pitch darkness of the abyss only pierced through by a faint purple light unveiling the face of the professor. Oil drips from his mouth and nose as the flesh of his face contorts in agony. He falls.
The lights flicker back to life. A dead body lays on the floor.
William is too stunned to speak for a few seconds. The voice of the Aurora resounds with newfound clarity in the speakers, eerily distant from the mess of the scene the two survivors are in. William stabilises his legs and pushes himself up fully, taking a glance at Luca. The Vanguard hastily regrets and turns his gaze to the corpse in the middle of the room. He regains composure as he realises the situation they are in. He turns to Luca; his worries on a whole other problem now.
“We need to get out.”
The Auditorium doesn’t answer, hell, he doesn’t even seem to notice the other, still paralysed by shock and maybe something else entirely. William takes him by the shoulders and shakes him, hushing through gritted teeth.
“Luca, we need to get out ! We can’t be caught here !”
The mission is already screwed; but they can’t afford bringing attention to themselves as suspects of a murder. The victim being one of the Aurora’s underlings makes the situation even worse.
Luca still doesn’t move. William tries to snap his fingers in front of his face. It seems to do the trick. The motion startles the blonde and he lifts a haunted gaze to William, panic replacing his previously catatonic state. Voice weak and trembling.
“Please, tell me this is a dream.”
“I-”
William makes a pained face; if only .
Yet there is the body, and despite the two men refusing to look at it, it’s growing cold and will soon begin to rot.
Luca exhales shakily when seeing William’s expression. He rumbles, nervously this time.
“That- That’s how it is then ? I never thought- But what happened ? Did someone break in ? Wait, William weren’t you shoved ? Are you alrigh-”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” William squeezes the other’s shoulder as if to make a point ; a reassuring one to rely on. “Luckily, it looks like no one has come yet to check on the professor, we can sneak out, but quick.”
Luca nods. He seems to only understand half of what is being said. William approaches the door and places his ear on it to listen for any movements on the outside. Nothing. He makes a sign at Luca to follow him. He carefully opens the door without a sound, peaks at seemingly empty hallways. Turning around, he realises the other hasn’t moved. He takes his wrist and starts to run. A scream soon resounds behind them; someone has found the body.
Only then does the sheer panic begin to sink in William’s veins : he takes a sharp turn in which Luca’s shoulder bruises, the sound of the collision then alerting a guard nearby who calls for reinforcement once he sees the intruders. They hustle the guests, robots and officers alike, not stopping at the exit and barely looking back. Flashing lights, adrenaline drumming into their temples. Luca’s breathing is heavy ; William’s grasp on his wrist is slowly giving in. Damnit . Behind them the footsteps of military boots and the sizzle of radio transmitters. “The suspects have escaped the exhibition-” Said suspects dive behind a corner, to the train station. “-Heading to the station. We need reinforcements. Prepare to block vehicles departures-”
At Luca’s pace weakening, William scoops him in his arms, unlocking the roller wheels at his feet and gaining momentum.
“S-Sorry !” The blonde chokes out his breath. “Don’t be ! It’s me !” retorts the Vanguard. He jumps over a barrier and the impact of his lending makes the Auditorium hiss for his bruised shoulder. “It’s fine ! I wasn’t- I haven’t- At your right !!” William ducks. A projectile grazes the back of his head.
“Reinforcements ? Already ?!”
“We could get aboard one of the trains before they manage to stop the departures !” Luca suggests, confusion gone and urgency drenching his voice.
“Not an option ! They’ll see which one we take and send guards to the station we’ll be heading to !” Plus you’re not built to jump off a moving vehicle goes unsaid. “There’s no exit for us !”
“Don’t say that ! There must be a way, at least for you !” Luca insists.
At least for… ? Oh. I know.
William sprints through the platforms, putting temporary distance and breaking line of sight between them and the pursuers. The bells ring for a train in a nearby platform, steam takes the colour of the yellow neons and the convoy sets itself in motion. William takes an abrupt turn towards it. He grins in what he hopes to be a comforting smile. He feels the edges of his lips tensing nonetheless.
“Could you not tell Patty how much I tossed you around today ?”
The smaller man seems to struggle for comprehension, then his eyes go wide as the puzzle pieces itself together in his mind. “Don’t you dare-”
“At least one of us gotta escape, ya know ?”
He throws with all his strength the smaller man to the end of the train. Landing perfectly on it, on his back, the loud horn of the train departure muffles his cry of pain.
William dives right back into the station, as if the detour never happened.
The cells haven’t really changed since the last time he has been imprisoned. William remembers the whole Pirate Radio team getting caught for trespassing a theatre owned by an old company slowly being forgotten. Jose wanted to celebrate the anniversary of the formation of their little group and invaded the spectacle hall for a “cinema and disc jockey night”. They got caught pretty quickly as the suspicious activity was spotted by the short-circuit in the building caused by Wick (did he chew on some cables ? William never got to know). The subsequent jail custody was, at first, filled with chatter, then with idleness, until the journalists caught the news of the effraction and the incident. The little TV stuck in the wall then transmitted the live investigation of the offence and mischaracterized every member of the rebels, which led, by a domino chain as hilarious as it was delirious to watch, to a huge buzz around the Pirate Radio crew, their station and the Have Fun affiliated magazine. In only 10 hours the story made it around the Metropolis. Some policemen even came to Victor to ask if he had prints of the newspaper ; Patricia had her mouth agape the entire time, Luca began talking cinema with them, Jose probably lost it internally at some point and William wishes he was making that up. They became popular enough that they were released without any charges pressed, and the company owning the theatre even resumed business.
This time, however, this was no simple effraction. William was accused of murder, and in the Metropolis you can never trust in your innocence, as heartfelt storytelling easily overpowers the raw facts. The news changes on the TV next to his cell; the Vanguard sees his face in it, a photo taken by a paparazzi, long ago, where he’s smiling wide and fake and the ugly scar across his left eye is still healing.
“For too long the Metropolis shook in fear. Now fear not, dear citizens, as the culprit - the serial killer ! - terrorising the city is now behind the bars.”
What ?
The voice of the presenter is blurred from the station’s white noise, yet it resounds with assurance and vigour. It fills the room with the charisma of justice; a false idol that rings true.
“Today at the Universal Exhibition, the latest crime in this horrendous series of murder brought to light the identity of the man claiming the lives of so many innocents. Indeed, with the assassination of Sir Alva Lorenz, known as Professor Prismatic Light, our upstanding officers could identify and arrest the monster behind these barbaric acts. The highly dangerous individual, Webb Ellis.“ The name William used at the height of his career, “Webb Ellis”, is displayed under his photo. Over them the accusation, no, the condemnation glowing in black and white : “Serial Killer”.
The white noise grows, the Vanguard can’t tell if it’s all coming from the TV post.
“The true identity and occupation of the man have been revealed, thanks to our ever-efficient and beloved police force ! Stay on, folks, as our on-site investigators will review the previous murders and uncover soon the killer’s psyche, background, activity and, of course, his horoscop-”
The door at the end of the corridor opens then slams shut, William, snapping out of the surreal cable programme, turns to the newcomer and takes a step back, arm raised to fight back. Once someone is a “culprit”, they lose all their rights in the Metropolis.
William doesn’t recognise the newcomer at first, his uniform has changed after all, yet his bandana, serious face and unabashed scars stayed the same. Upon realising who it is, a cocky, nervous smile creeps on the Vanguard’s lips.
“Mad you couldn’t catch me yourself captain ?”
The officer looks at him dead in the eye, and quickly gets the keys of the cells out of his pockets.
He unlocks the Vanguard’s prison.
William gapes and furrows his brows, silent confusion taking hold of him.
“You are in danger here; follow me.” Tells the man.
“You’re helping me ? Why ?”
The officer shakes his head.
“We don’t have time.”
The officer leads the way and the Vanguard follows.
Their travel is, at first, silent. They take twists and turns, pass through rooms that the Vanguard would have never guessed were there. The more they progress the less the building is taken care of, paint and ceiling in scrambles, electrical cables naked, William could swear he saw a rat in the shadows.
One thing he can say for sure however; there is no security camera on their path.
The officer opens another door and William passes through. It’s a dead end. The policeman locks the door and turns slowly toward the Vanguard.
“I know you’re not responsible for the murder.” He claims. “However, you’re not out of the police building yet. This place is under renovations; and if I want to I can still turn you in.” He taps the talkie-walkie in the pocket of his jacket. “Collaborate with me and I’ll let you go.”
William catches himself grinning again. “Turn me in, now ? Won’t it be a bit suspicious, officer ? You know how the internal investigations go around here don’t ya ?”
They don’t go well, they never go well. Rumours spread faster than fire on fuel, the innocent becomes a pariah and the black sheep is ousted before it can even realise what is going on.
Both men are silent for an eternity. Then, taking his time as if the world is slowing down, the captain takes a bottle of glass lying close and suddenly smashes his head with it. The siren blares and engulfs the noise of breaking glass. Someone has noticed the empty cell and William is now a fugitive. The screams of the station frame the officer’s bloodied face. His expression is unbothered, determined, highlighted by the red flashes of faraway alarms. His voice pierces through the chaos with clarity.
“Assault on a representative of order. You threatened me; I had no choice but to help you escape. You’ll be going down the hole alone if you don’t agree to collaborate here and now.”
William can’t help but take a step back. The Vanguard, despite knowing better, feels cold sweat running down his spine.
“Quite the convincing bluff, sheriff .” He tries to muse, tense under the sirens, under the threat and under the man’s dark gaze. William knows he has nothing to fear, but he can’t help faltering in front of the officer’s cheer presence.
Thank God for Patricia and her gossip.
“Good news.” She announced, barging in the room where all the committee was assembled, helping Jose fix his old radio transmitter. Or, more accurately, Luca reassembling it after changing whatever piece broke inside. The others were either giving the instruments like nurses giving scalpels to a surgeon, or hanging around the room as self-appointed “pom pom boys”. All except Luca perked up at Patricia’s entrance.
“We never have enough of those ! Please share.” Jose urged her, all smiles and probably a bit tipsy.
“Captain Gupta has been demoted, and not just one grade; he’s the sheriff now.”
Victor made a pout, a question being quickly typed on his mask, typewriter clics flowing in a frenzy.
“Isn’t that a promotion ?”
At that Patricia blessed the room with one of her rare smiles.
“Usually yes, but, ah, how to say this.” She paced around the room. “Originally, the role was that of a peace enforcer for the country, a hero elected by each and every citizen. Centuries passed, their duties were restricted - by time and means - to that of a jailkeeper. Their election was twisted too - by corruption - to be decided by the most influential of the city. Nowadays, with no prison to keep, no judgement to pass on, no country to travel to - only the Metropolis… The sheriff is just a pet that the wealthy can order around for their bidding. Captain Gupta - well, former captain - is now useless, and has no access to the cases of the police force.”
“Wild.” Said William, flatly. “So who’s that Gupta guy anyway ?”
“The one with a bandana you’re always complaining about, if I recall correctly.”
He remembered then - a man with fire in his eyes, spitting out his title with fury. Gupta. The guy was genuinely terrifying. Thick-headed and determined, he had a pretty solid score in stopping the plans of the Pirate Radio “terrorists” and was always the last one able to keep up with William’s sprints through the city roofs. Daring leaps and jumps that anyone would be scared of - especially William - without the slightest hint of enhancing prosthetics on his body. How ? He always asked himself, filled with fear and a hint of jealousy.
The sheriff looks wounded, he takes a step back. “How do you already-”
“Yet.” William raises his hand to stop the man’s next words. “I’ve still decided to help you; threat or not.”
Now the Gupta guy just looks confused. “...Why ?”
“Because.” William shrugs. “You want me to help you with that murder case right ? I mean not only is it beneficial for me but… It’s good. Plus I owe you for that escape, y’know.”
“I-Yes. Don’t worry, I only want you to give me your testimony of the event, since you are a witness. After that you will be able to go.”
Maybe it’s too bold. Maybe he should just escape and hide for a while. “I won’t.”
The sheriff blinks once. He circles with his hand in the air. Elaborate .
The Vanguard exhales “There’s something fishy about this. No one has come to interrogate me and suddenly I’m the culprit, that case’s resolution’s looking quite like corruption, innit ? Plus… You’re the best officer in Metropolis. I’m sure that you haven’t lost your job because of your performances.” The sheriff purses his lips. William nods. “Yeah, I thought so.”
He holds out his hand and makes his warmest smile. “Let me introduce myself, Neon Vanguard, rated most handsome criminal in the Metropolis, at your service.”
The sheriff makes a grimace. “I don’t want your pseudonym, give me your real name.”
He has to exhale to get out of his persona. He’d rather not, but now’s not the time to be picky, isn’t it ?
“...People call me the Neon Vanguard, but my real name’s William Ellis. Webb is actually just my middle name.”
The officer… Smiles. It’s small but it’s there, the blood doesn’t change it. He firmly shakes William’s hand. “Ganji Gupta. Thank you for your help.”
Solving this murder might even lead to something more about the Metropolis itself.
William bites his lip.
The memory of Luca comes back to him.
Oily blood on his clothes, on his face, on his hands. Electricity humming around his fingertips.
Prosthetics glowing in a gentle, unnatural purple light.
William chases the recollection away. No way. It doesn’t even make sense.
It can’t make sense.
It… can't.