Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Tyrant - 8



1989. Somewhere in Metro Park...


An old man fed the pigeons while sitting on the bench.

When the figure in the black suit and skull helmet appeared, he didn't even look up.

"Daylight? In plain sight?" the old man asked. "Really?"

"We've got about fourteen minutes before anyone comes by," the Skull replied.

"Mmn. I've got to ask," he said, lifting his eyes up to the hilt that jutted out above one of the Skull's shoulders. "...isn't the sword--you know--tacky?"

"It does the job."

"Just saying. Even the original wasn't scared to use guns."

"The original didn't have a problem with killing."

This made the old man's face split into a grin. "That's a problem for you, is it, son?"

The Skull sat down besides him. The bench groaned beneath the weight. "I'm not here to swap war stories, grandpa."

"No," he said. "I don't imagine you are. You've been a busy little bee, haven't you?"


"The US government's got a file on you a mile long," he said. "Appearing in the midst of battle and, in all the confusion, snatching some weapon--some earth-shattering device--away. Judging by the files, you've managed to get yourself quite a little arsenal. Not bad for 80 years worth of work."

"It's actually only been a few hours from my perspective," the Skull said.

"Ah," the old man said. "Regardless, you'd need at least a dozen highly trained men to operate all the gear you've stolen throughout history. You planning on fighting a war? With some friends, maybe?"

"Something like that."

"Heh. Either way, I guess it's none of my business. There a reason you decided to pester a harmless old man?"

"Harmless?" the Skull said. "Somehow I don't quite buy that."

The old man gave the figure a sly look. "Exactly who do you think I am?"

"I don't think. I know. You're the man who singlehandedly ended the invasion of 1984," the Skull said. "For under one minute, throughout the entire world, no one died."

"And now I'm an old man on a park bench feeding pigeons," he said. "When I slow time down--when I go faster--the rest of the world stays young while I get old. It took me quite a while to pull off that trick, son. Fifty three seconds for the world--sixty-seven years for me."

The Skull shifted position. "You beat all of them. Streak, the others--all of them your equals. But you managed to win."

"You'd think we wouldn't have been able to pull it off," Blink said. "We didn't kill. They did. But there's one thing that their master didn't count on. They were willing to kill--but they weren't willing to die. We were. And that's how we won."

"I need information."

Blink gave Skull an even stare. "On another super-weapon, I take it? You seem to have no problem locating them."

"My source didn't know where to look for this last one," the Skull said. "He told me you would."

"What do you need to know?"

"Where is the Muse of Music?"




  1. Well, a temporal ratio of 40 million to 1 is kinda cool. There's a problem of scale though; with a steady pace of 10 miles per hour, assuming he never tires, eats, sleeps or otherwise is forced to stop, a human could move about 6 million miles in 67 years.

    Just running all the roadways in the United States once is at least 4 million miles. Going all over the world at least once would take significantly longer than that...

    1. Why would he need to run all the road ways in the United States? He probably just hit key areas.

  2. Probably took a more efficient path

  3. Blink uses localised temporal field distortion to the effect that his overall mass can move faster than his perception and metabolism would imply.