Chapter Text
In a dusty bar, seedy patrons hustled and bustled in an assortment of colorful clothing. The faint pink glow of the sign out front filtered through the windows, flickering in the cold night air of Madripoor. A very young man in a black and yellow leather jacket walked through the door inconspicuously. His eyes wandered past the various individuals in the bar to the far corner, where a small booth had been set up. He sat down on a barstool as he eyed the three people already at the booth. He wanted to bide his time.
At the booth, with his fingers steepled sat a man in a purple hood. There were green markings up and down his face as he draped his cloak over his shoulders.
“Come,” he beckoned. “View the power of hypnosis, and the true limits of the human mind, from I, Mesmero the Mysterious.”
“Quite some power,” the woman in a metal outfit that left one shoulder exposed but not the other scoffed.
“Hypnosis. Must be great at birthday parties.”
“If you want to book one, I can give you my agent’s number,” Mesmero sighed.
“That’s okay, Vincent,” the woman smiled, snapping her fingers. Her two companions, a large muscular bald man in green and yellow spandex, as well as a green-haired lady in a green and white bodysuit covered in a swirling pattern, stood on either side of the hypnotist, who gulped as he saw he had no paths to run from the attackers. And in an establishment as seedy as the Princess Bar, who would even lift a finger to help him anyway?
“I don’t kno-” he began, but the woman in metal rolled her eyes.
“How the mighty have fallen. The great servant of Apocalypse, Mesmero, reduced to party favors while on the run from SHIELD.”
“Apocalypse is gone,” he shook his head. “Never to return.”
“Or maybe he just got a better servant,” the muscular man cracked his knuckles.
“He’s all yours,” the woman scoffed as she stood up. The muscular man dragged Mesmero behind him by the throat, and the woman in green just grinned as she followed. At the bar, the young man in black and yellow counted the aggressors as they walked past him out the side exit.
It was just Arclight, Blockbuster and Vertigo. They would be easy. Before the bartender could come over the young man had stood up, silently shuffling to the door to follow the group. It wasn’t like he was old enough to drink anyway. Madripoor might be less lenient about things like that, but his parents would probably be very disappointed if they caught him drinking at 18.
In the alley next to the bar, Mesmero found himself pushed up against a wall, all three of his attackers sneering sadistically.
“What do you want?” he asked in terror.
“Our boss just wants to tie up loose ends,” Arclight smirked.
“We want to have some fun.”
“Let’s crush him, Arc,” Blockbuster leered.
“Let’s not, Arc,” came a firm voice from the end of the alleyway. The shadows of Madripoor obscured his face, but from what they could tell, he was wearing a form fitting leather tactical outfit. His jacket was unzipped, revealing a golden-collared dark t-shirt underneath.
“Let’s just put him down, and I’ll take him off your hands. Loose ends still get tied. No harm done.”
“What do you care about this scuzzo?” Arclight snarled, clenching her fist threateningly.
“Not much,” the young man folded his arms. “But I’m not crazy about three against one either. So how about we settle this peacefully?”
“I think me and my buds are going to squash this slimeball, so you and your stupid leather act just picked the wrong time to play hero,” Arclight snarled. She threw Mesmero to the ground, who just blinked in disbelief.
A smile grew on the man’s face as the three slowly began charging up their powers. He cracked his neck in anticipation as his left eye began to glow.
“This will be fun,” Nathan Summers grinned.