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SM/DC Chapter 7 : Fury in the Alley
🕑 Added 2025-01-26 00:47:10 +0000 UTCArthur stepped out of the school building, the weight of the day settling on his shoulders. It had been an eventful one. ‘Meeting Raven, checking out my powers...’ His thoughts were a storm, but as he stepped into the bustling streets, the momentary chaos of his surroundings helped ground him. ‘Still, beyond that... I didn’t notice anyone else who seemed out of the ordinary.’
He couldn’t shake the lingering doubt Raven’s words had sparked in him. ‘Was she telling the truth? Or was she just a wary person sensing shadows in everyone?’ He glanced around, seeing nothing that stood out. No one else had given off that same vibe she had. He thought about it for a moment, but decided against dwelling too much on it.
‘I’ll figure this out in my own time.’
As he walked toward the school’s front gates, his eyes landed on George, standing beside a sleek black car parked at the curb. The older man was waiting patiently, his hands clasped behind his back as he leaned slightly against the vehicle. His expression was stoic, yet there was a hint of something unreadable in his gaze.
Arthur walked up to him, his feet crunching against the pavement with each step. “George,” he called out, his voice casual but firm, “you can go ahead. I’ll go back on my own today. Got some business to take care of.”
George straightened up at the sound of his voice, his lips twitching into a small, understanding smile. “Master Arthur, you know I can’t do that,” he replied, voice full of gentle admonishment. “Your mother would be very displeased.”
Arthur sighed, trying to hide the frustration that bubbled beneath the surface. “I insist. You don’t have to worry about her.” He gestured vaguely in the air, like it was nothing. “I’ll be fine, really.”
George’s smile grew slightly. “It’s not your mother I’m worried about, Master Arthur. It’s your brother,” he said, his tone light but with a tinge of concern.
Arthur blinked, his steps faltering for a moment. ‘Brother?’ He hadn’t thought about it much, the mention of a sibling was very strange. ‘Guess it makes sense. I would have some here’
But as quickly as the thought came, it was gone. Arthur shook his head slightly, clearing his mind. “Oh well,” he muttered to himself, watching as George bowed his head politely and slipped into the car, driving off down the road.
Arthur stood there for a moment, watching the car disappear into the distance, before turning to take in the view of the city around him. The towering buildings, the neon lights flashing from shop windows, the busy sidewalks filled with people hurrying to and from their destinations—it was overwhelming, in a way. The sense of normalcy in the chaos of it all.
‘This city... it's so big. And so... loud.’
He walked slowly, letting the sights, sounds, and even the smells of the urban sprawl sink in. ‘I need to get more familiar with my surroundings. This place feels alien.’
As he walked, though, his mind drifted.’ still, everything looks like where I’m from, ordinary, for a place where superhumans walk.’ His senses were already alert to his surroundings, but it didn’t take long for the dark side of the city to present itself to him. The more he observed, the more he began to notice: Crime. Everywhere.
People in hurried conversations, their words sharp and clipped. Little pockets of conflict cropping up around him—an argument over a purse, a man trying to sell something suspiciously from a bag. But even worse, there were more dangerous things lurking in the shadows: desperate figures, dangerous deals, a general air of lawlessness that seemed to linger despite the presence of capes and masked vigilantes.
‘For a place where superhumans roam freely... it’s still very much the same. Chaos rules.’
It was almost like a dark irony. Powers were supposed to bring order, but in a city like this, the people with power weren’t always the ones keeping the peace. Arthur grimaced slightly, feeling the weight of that truth sit heavily on him.
As he continued walking, lost in his thoughts, something caught his eye—movement in the alleyway ahead. A figure, a woman, seemed to be in trouble. Arthur’s senses sharpened, and without thinking, he quickened his pace toward the sound of low voices. His blood pulsed in his veins, his instincts kicking in.
A couple of men, rough-looking with their jackets pulled low over their heads, were standing in front of the woman, blocking her path. She was backed up against the cold brick wall, her hands clutching her purse to her chest in desperation. One of the men was making menacing gestures, clearly trying to intimidate her into handing it over.
“Hey,” one of them sneered, “you wanna give that up easy? Or do we make this difficult?”
Something inside Arthur snapped. Without thinking, his bloodlust swirled to the surface like a burning tide. He wasn’t aware of his own eyes glowing, but the strange power that had stirred within him was undeniable. He moved quickly, almost instinctively, closing the gap between him and the thugs before they could even register his presence.
“i was hoping to find someone to test my current strength”
The two thugs were so focused on the woman that they didn’t notice Arthur closing in on them until it was almost too late. As he stepped into the alley, his presence seemed to disrupt the air itself. One of the men, a scruffy figure with a scarred face, turned at the sound of footsteps, his hand instinctively going for the knife at his side. The other followed suit, reaching into his jacket. Their eyes widened when they saw Arthur standing there, calm as ever, unarmed.
“What the hell?” the scarred thug growled. “What’s a kid doing here?”
“None of your business,” Arthur said, his voice cold and steady, his eyes fixed on the thugs like a predator sizing up its prey. His stance was casual, but there was an aura of danger that surrounded him.
The thug with the unkempt beard scoffed, sneering. “Kid’s got guts, I’ll give him that. But you’re about to regret this, punk.”
The first thug lunged, his knife flashing in the dim alley light. With practiced speed, Arthur sidestepped the attack, feeling the blade cut through the air just inches from his face. The thug’s momentum carried him forward, but Arthur’s foot swung up in a perfect arc, slamming into the thug’s side with such force that he crashed into the wall, gasping for breath.
Before the second thug could react, Arthur was already on him. He grabbed the thug’s wrist mid-strike, the knife barely grazing his skin as he twisted the man’s arm with brutal efficiency. With a snap of his wrist, Arthur forced the weapon to drop, sending the thug stumbling back. The thug’s eyes widened, disbelief flashing across his face.
“You—” the thug began, but Arthur’s fist collided with his jaw before he could finish the sentence. The punch was like a wrecking ball, sending the thug sprawling onto the ground, his body crumpling in a heap.
“Pathetic,” Arthur muttered under his breath, the adrenaline coursing through him as he moved effortlessly between the two men.
The first thug, still trying to regain his bearings, lunged at Arthur again, but the young man was already steps ahead. He ducked under the wild slash, stepping into the thug’s guard. Before the thug could react, Arthur’s knee connected with his abdomen, knocking the wind out of him. He gasped, unable to speak, and Arthur’s fist came down like a hammer, smashing into the thug’s temple with a sickening thud.
“Bastard!” the second thug yelled, stumbling to his feet with a feral snarl. He grabbed a nearby bottle and swung it at Arthur’s head. Arthur ducked, then sidestepped, letting the thug’s swing pass harmlessly by.
“You’re really making this harder on yourselves,” Arthur said, his voice dripping with contempt.
The thug growled and attempted a desperate charge, but Arthur was too fast. He sidestepped again, and before the thug could react, Arthur slammed his elbow into the back of his neck with all his strength. There was a sickening crack, and the thug collapsed to the ground, unconscious before he could even scream.
Arthur took a step back, wiping his hands off. He turned toward the woman in the corner, who was still hiding, wide-eyed, her back pressed against the wall.
“Are you okay?” Arthur asked, his voice softer now. He was about to take a step toward her, but his instincts flared just in time.
A flash of steel caught his eye, and without thinking, he twisted his body and ducked, narrowly avoiding the blade of a third thug who had emerged from the shadows. The man’s knife sliced through the air, just grazing the sleeve of Arthur’s shirt.
Arthur’s heart raced, but his movements were fluid, controlled. He shifted his weight, using his agility to his advantage. He spun around, grabbed the thug’s wrist mid-swing, and with a sharp twist, he snapped the man’s neck with a brutal, practiced kick to the back.
The thug crumpled to the ground like a ragdoll, lifeless before he even hit the pavement.
