“If you think an apology is going to sway me, then you do not know me at all. I don’t make deals with people I can’t trust. And you have proven that you are, in fact, one of the most untrustworthy bitch! I’ve ever met in my life. I’m getting out of here. fuck your suits, fuck your father and his sister, and fuck you too. I’m no one’s weapon or tool. You’ve read my file. " You know my fucking history and know I’m here for a fresh start from people like you that have used me time and time again.”Boyce remained silent for a few seconds as Arome started pulling shoes off the feet of the dead cultists. It was hard finding one that fit him. But as he was doing so, Bertha stepped forwards and placed a hand on his shoulder. She gave him a kind smile, that, frankly speaking, caught Arome off guard, and then she pulled him into her embrace. At first, the awkwardness of the situation hit home. After all, Arome was still stark naked, and only the clothes in his hands separated him from the woman

Arome watched them work with a dull look in his eyes. He was lucky enough that they had a shower on this floor, and he had gotten cleaned up. It had been a rather dull affair though, as he stood in the bathroom, his eyes locked on the image of himself.With all the blood washed off and removed, he could finally see his face again. His eyes seemed to be slowly changing their color. It was weird, but it looked like the black of his eyes had developed an extra layer within them, a ring of white within that black. It made it somewhat eerie to look at, but Arome did not particularly care.He had never been bothered about his looks, chocolate brown skin that spoke of his Nubian ancestry. Sharp features that were soft, yet imposing. And his hair…one side of it was now a stark shade of white, from the roots. He ran a finger through it, a tired sigh escaping his lips. White…usually a sign that vitality or the soul has been tampered with, or the mind has been broken. Each death, it seems, left

It was a mask, a lion’s helmet made from a sleek white metal with blue and black highlights to match the color of his gloves and boots. A flowing mane of white with blue tips stretched behind the mask, and even from there, Arome could see some sort of current passing through the individual strands of the mane attached to the back of the mask. He looked at Bertha and Bert. “There’s no way you made this just for me, it doesn’t look like something you just quickly put together.”“That’s because the helmet was made for your cousin.” Marissa’s voice came through the intercom, as if to remind Arome that she was still watching what was happening in the factory. Arome developed a scowl on his face as he took a step back from the mask.“How quaint. " Why are you giving it to me? " I don’t want anything of his.” Bertha chuckled as Bert walked up and clapped Arome on the back. “Then it is a good thing that arrogant prick rejected it. If I remember correctly, he says a Lion of the Stars has no ne

The moment Arome stepped out into the stairwell, alarms blared out within his helmet. He quickly ducked down under the wild punch that was thrown over his head as the door banged shut behind him, pneumatic hisses filling the air as the sounds of heavy clicks and bolts sliding into place were heard. He angled the rifle in his hand and squeezed the trigger, two quick bursts that pelted off a glowing blue shield that covered the body of his new assailant.A knee came flying to his face, but he raised the butt of the rifle, smashing it down on the knee before he got up and took a couple of steps backwards. Five cultists, the lead was a super with shield or barrier abilities. But it wasn’t just him that gave off a feeling of danger. One of them had green gas hovering around his body, another was a foot in the air, a small distortion around their body, almost as if they were controlling gravity. The remaining two were at the back, one with a gun and the other with a steel bat in his hands.

Rowan attacked first, firing off a stream of bullets that refused to travel in a straight line. There was a reason why he was called Gunsoul. Arome ducked to the side, but even with how fast he moved he could still feel close to having a dozen bullets impacting the side of his head. The helmet held up, but the same could not be said for his body.His suit was impact resistant, not fully bulletproof, as there was not enough time to get these ready. So getting shot still hurts like hell, even more so when you have to take on this many bullets. He held his ground though as the metal guy bull rushed Arome, spearing him and carrying him backwards, towards the same stairs that just broke his back. Arome cocked his arms back, the angle was terrible, and he would not be able to hit with his full force, which was why just before he could be slammed on the ground and his back broken again. He let go of his rifle and pulled his arms as wide as they could go, before bringing them together as quic