I prowled the back streets towards Pork City. I had to duck inside A-East as I passed. I settled into a well-shadowed corner and tried to concentrate. Leo Cantus had been threatening to break free and take over all week. I would be glad to unleash his power on that yoctogram Sakuraba when he and his partner showed up. I hoped Megs hadn't sent out the mission mail yet. No matter, I'd freaking smash the kid. I hadn't noticed any Players on my morning hunt though. I took that as a good sign. Mind, Pinky and Lollipop had wiped out nearly everyone else. Crud.
That brief rise in my temper caused my wings to sprout just a little way. I sighed heavily and thought back to my childhood, way before I joined the Reapers. I had engrossed myself in my work and, to the hectopascals, I had been a freak. They were so zetta dumb that they couldn't see the artistic beauty of math and complex calculations. They rambled on about CD's or clothes or whatever inane things passed for interesting among those morons. They never wanted to be friends, and that suited me just fine. They called my sculptures garbage, they never understood the perfectly calculated angles and the details placement consideration I had always put into my work.
As my wing tips slid back through my shoulder blades I jumped up and brushed the dust off my jeans. 777 never frigging told his guys to clean the place. Dumb git. As I strolled off towards the beautiful behemoth of a building that was Pork City, I remembered the sign I had left on my structure. 'Any tree can drop and apple, I'll drop the freaking moon.' Time to show the kiddies I was a man of my word. I gentle snarl slipped through my lips and I checked for my megaphone. I would be damned if this wasn't gonna be the best zetta freaking show on the damn planet.