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Viperial City – PRIME Emergency Substation #11
October 15, 2014 | 9:26 AM
Five days have passed since the Surge.
The Rebels are gaining traction. PRIME is losing the fight for Viperial City.
Director Savage is desperate for help.
Bruce jolts awake.
The room is dim and cold. A single ceiling light flickers above. His wrists and ankles are bound in titanium restraints. Thick IV leads run from his arms. A monitor beeps steadily beside him.
He panics, yanking at the cuffs.
“What the fuck?” He mutters. “Where the fuck am I? Where’s Bradley?”
A calm voice cuts through the silence from an overhead speaker.
“Good morning, Bruce. How are you feeling?”
“HE-HEY! Get me outta here!” He shouts. “What the hell is going on? Where’s my brother?!”
“My name is Valerie Francis,” the voice replies—calm but firm. “You’re in a PRIME Substation. In containment.”
“Containment? Contained for what? I didn’t do anything—I was just at a football game. What happened? WHERE IS MY BROTHER?!”
“Bruce, I need you to stay calm. Your brother is here—he’s in the chamber beyond that wall. But I need you to listen so I can explain. Can you do that for me?”
Bruce thrashes harder, panic morphing into fury.
“Let me outta this! Now!”
“Bruce, please. I’m going to have to sedate you if you break containment again.”
“Again?! What the hell does that mean?!”
Suddenly, his body trembles—no vibrates—at high speed. The restraints hum. A blue glow flickers in his eyes.
Then—VWHIP!
He phases straight through the shackles and crashes to the floor.
What the fuck was that?
Dazed—he rises and scans the room. No doors—only a strange, opaque pane of glass glowing faintly in the corner. He approaches. Shapes flicker behind it.
A blaze—no, not a blaze. A person.
His jaw drops.
“…Bradley?”
He sprints forward—
VWHIP!
—and phases through the glass.
Inside, the heat is unbearable. Fire swirls from Bradley’s body like a living storm.
His brother lies on a gurney, engulfed in flame. A human inferno.
“NOOO! What are y’all doing to him!” Bruce yells.
He rushes toward his brother.
“Bruce—no! Stop!” Francis shouts from a speaker.
But Bruce doesn’t hesitate. He barrels forward, arms outstretched.
He grips Bradley’s shoulder, shaking him—and nothing burns him.
“Bradley! Wake up! Come on, man—wake up”
Suddenly, Bradley jolts. His eyes snap open.
“BRUUUUUUUCE!” He screams—and a firestorm explodes outward.
But Bruce doesn’t let go. Still clinging to him, unmoved by the raging heat.
Bradley, feeling the contact, blinks rapidly. His breath slows. His brother’s presence grounds him.
The flames begin to die.
The fire recedes.
And just like that—he’s back.
“Bru-Bruce?” He murmurs. “What’s going on? Where are we?”
“I don’t know, man,” Bruce says, eyes darting. “You were on fire. Like…actually on fire. What the hell was that?”
“I…I don’t know.” Bradley whispers.
A knock sounds against the glass to their right. A new window becomes visible—Valerie Francis stands behind it, flanked by medical staff and uniformed PRIME personnel.
“I can’t explain everything,” she says softly. “But I can tell you what happened a few days ago. It might help.”
Bruce and Bradley exchange a glance.
“A few days ago?” They both say confusingly.
***
Ember Valley – Viperial Penitentiary | 9:45 AM
PRIME has established a base of operations in the old penitentiary in Ember Valley.
Heaven’s Hammer—a Zeus Division strike team—enters the base with two captured Rebels in tow. Their hands—bound by prototype handcuffs.
Ace, the team’s leader, escorts both Rebels into the facility. He shackles one to a bench outside the interrogation room, then shoves the other inside.
The lights flicker on. Blood smears stain the far wall and fog the observation glass.
The Rebel flinches. Fear settles in his face.
“Go ‘head. Sit.” Ace orders.
He slaps a heavy hand onto the Rebel’s shoulder, slamming him into the metal chair.
“Now,” Ace says, “I want to know where I can find Vantor.”
He pulls a cigarette from the side pocket of his cargo pants and tosses the box onto the table. A lighter clicks in his hand. Smoke coils upward.
Puff.
“Tell me what I want to know.”
“I—I don’t know anything,” the Rebel mutters. “I wasn’t even recruited yet. This job was my first.”
Ace presses the burning cigarette into the Rebel’s hand.
“AAAAAAAAGH!” He screams.
“Bullshit,” Ace says. “You know something.”
“I swear! I don’t know! I swear!” The Rebel whimpers, shaking.
Ace exhales. “That’s very unfortunate.”
He strolls over to a wall-mounted phone, picks it up, and waits a moment.
“Bring in Thunder. These assholes aren’t giving me anything.”
He hangs up, then drags his chair to the back wall—far away from the table—and grins.
“Thunder will be with you shortly.”
A few seconds pass. The door swings open.
Tyson Willis steps in. He’s Thunder.
“Sup Ace?” Thunder says. ”This guy not talking, huh?”
“No, Thunder. He is not.” Ace says, taking another puff.
“I think he needs some shock therapy. Whaddaya say?”
Thunder chuckles. He grabs the Rebel by both shoulders—
—and unleashes a power surge of electricity straight into him.
The Rebel screams in agony. The sound pierces the walls, echoing down the corridor.
Outside, the second Rebel tugs violently at his restraints.
“Come on, man, I gotta get outta here!”
Inside, Thunder rips the Rebel from the chair and hoists him in the air.
“Where can we find Vantor?”
“I don’t know!” The Rebel sobs. ”I swear!”
“No?” Thunder grits his teeth. “Fine.”
He hurls the man across the room. The Rebel crashes face-first into the wall.
Teeth scatter across the floor.
Ace starts clapping.
“Oof. That’s gotta hurt.”
Thunder steps out of the room and turns toward the second Rebel.
He kneels.
“Tell me what I need to know. Or you’re next.”
The Rebel gulps. “I don’t know where his base is… but I know the next move. He’s gonna bomb the rest of Crystal Palms. He thinks that’ll finally get him global recognition!”
Thunder freezes.
His expression shifts.
“…Crystal Palms?”
Electricity pulses in his hands.
Memories flood in—his grandfather, the homes he left behind.
He turns and bolts.
Thunder storms across the penitentiary floor. PRIME operatives scramble out of his path.
From the upper level, Director Savage watches from behind the railing.
“Going somewhere?” He asks.
“Yeah,” Thunder replies. “Crystal Palms. Rebels said Vantor’s gonna blow it.”
“I’ll send a—“
“No!” Thunder cuts in. “ I got it. I’ll keep you posted.”
Just lightning in his veins and vengeance in his stride.
***
Viperial City – 47th St. & Collins Avenue | 10:06 AM
Thunder rushes through the city streets, lightning in his veins as he races from Ember Valley to reach Crystal Palms.
BOOOOOOOOM!
“What the hell was that?” He mutters, coming to a halt.
Suddenly—a car soars through the air toward him.
KRATOOOOOOM!
It crashes just feet away, exploding on impact.
Thunder spins around, eyes scanning the area. “Who the hell threw that?”
He sprints in the direction it came from and spots chaos.
A warzone.
Thunder smirks. “Time to play.”
He absorbs electricity from wrecked vehicles, power lines, and streetlights as he dashes through the carnage. Sparks swirl around him, dancing along his arms.
But then he stops cold.
Ahead, a team of six Ares units is being butchered to death by a horde of Rebels.
Without hesitation, Thunder lifts his arms and unleashes a storm of voltage. Electricity arcs in every direction—incapacitating the Rebels in seconds.
He scoffs. “Weaker than I thought.”
He rushes toward the Ares soldiers. He kneels beside one who’s missing his right hand, blood pooling beneath him.
“Jeez, man. You alright?” Thunder asks.
“Get outta here! Before he comes back!” The soldier yells, shoving Thunder aside.
“What? I’m here to help you.”
“No time! The Demolisher is here!”
The soldier scrambles to his feet, yelling to the others.
“Jace, Wax, let’s go!”
Just then—a school bus hurtles overhead and smashes into the squad with terrifying force.
CRASH!
Bodies vanish beneath the wreckage.
Thunder freezes. Slowly, he turns.
And there he is.
The Demolisher.
A seven-foot brute, giggling as he crumples a compact car in his bare hands.
“You wouldn’t be the guy running around ruinin’ Rebels business, would ya?” He asks.
Thunder blinks. “You just killed all those soldiers… by throwing a school bus at them.”
Demolisher chuckles again, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Yeah. I sure did.”
Thunder’s eyes go white. Electricity crackles across his body. He begins to hover.
In a flash, he unleashes a wave of lightning toward the giant—but Demolisher barely flinches.
No damage.
Demolisher finishes balling up the compact car, crushing it into a warped sphere of steel—then hurls it like a fastball. Thunder dodges, but only just.
He hits the ground hard.
Demolisher charges—colliding with Thunder and bulldozing him through three buildings before slamming him into the street, carving a crater in the pavement.
The brute lifts a foot to stomp him, but Thunder catches his foot mid-air, teeth gritted in pain. He releases a million-volt surge into Demolisher’s leg, stunning him just long enough to escape.
Thunder rolls away, clutching his ribs, gasping.
Demolisher dusts off his hands and smirks.
“You’re good, bruh. But you ain’t there yet. I need you to be stronger. Maybe we can run it back someday—if you live.”
He cracks his knuckles.
“But for now…I’m gonna knock you out.”
He charges. Thunder tries to fire—but he’s too slow.
BOOM.
Demolisher’s punch lands flush on Thunder’s chest, launching him several blocks before he finally crashes through the front of an abandoned supermarket.
Demolisher chuckles. “So much for that.”
He leaps away—vanishing into the distance.
Inside the rubble, Thunder groans. He drags himself out from the debris and taps a comms device in his gauntlet.
“Hey-hey… Sa-Savage,” he stammers. “I need…medical…”
He passes out.
***
Ember Valley — PRIME HQ | 10:43 AM
“This is Savage. Thunder! What’s your status? What happened out there?!” Savage barks into the comms.
Nothing.
Just static.
He repeats: “Tyson—do you copy?”
A faint crackle. Still no response
Viperial City —Abandoned Supermarket
A soft hum of static buzzes from the comms unit embedded in Thunder’s gauntlet.
His eyes twitch.
Thunder stirs, buried beneath shattered ceiling beams and broken tiles. He groans, clutching his ribs, blood trickling from his mouth. The faint voice of Savage crackles through the noise.
“…Thunder. Do you copy? Tyson, report…”
Thunder coughs and finally taps the comms.
“I need medical…” Thunder murmurs, barely audible. “Demolisher…he packs a wallop.”
“Hang in there. We have your location. Units are en route—ETA seven minutes. Where is this Demolisher?” Savage asks urgently.
A beat of silence. Then—
“Gone. I hope.” Thunder hesitates. “He hit me harder than I could handle… I was scared to get hit again.”
Suddenly, Valerie Francis bursts into the office, Bruce and Bradley close behind her.
“I think I found some of the help we need,” she says.
She steps to the side and gestures to the brothers. “Meet the Harris Brothers.”
Savage turns. The two young men glance at each other, then back at him.
Bradley steps forward.
“When do we start saving people?”
***
Ready for what comes next in The Surge: Aftermath? Chapter 3: Trial Run is waiting!