Lulu's tantrum was anything but ordinary.
The mont her soft, sweet voice echoed through the studio, viewers across the city saw her wave that heart-topped wand. A blinding, iridescent light erupted, washing out the cara feed.
In living rooms across New York, people instinctively shielded their eyes as their television screens turned into a solid wall of white.
A few monts later, the light receded.
"Thump!"
In the SHIELD Operations Center, Commander Victoria Hand stared at the big screen, her breath hitching in her throat. She stood up abruptly.
"Holy shit!"
Hand blurted out a rare profanity before snapping her head toward a technician. "Cut the feed! Block the signal from NY Channel 1, now!"
The agent scrambled to comply. They had good reason to be panicked. As the light faded, the figure of Barry Weiss curled on the floor began to shudder violently. Before the eyes of millions, he was shrinking—shriveling at a visible rate.
The junkie was undergoing a complete biological restructuring. Within a few heartbeats, Barry Weiss had utterly vanished. In his place sat a repulsive, oversized grey rat.
"Holy shit!"
Back at the Stacy residence, Gwen jumped off the sofa, her face a mask of pure shock. "That is not scientifically possible!"
Locke, sitting beside her, shrugged nonchalantly. "Gwen, it's magic. It's not supposed to be scientific."
He had told her it was a witch's spell. Science? In the face of true sorcery, science was barely a footnote.
Gwen's shock was echoed by the rest of the world. As that final image flickered across the screens of New York, the task's influence multiplier finally hit its peak: 100x.
The ter was full.
The next second—*CRACKLE*—static filled the television.
"Huh?"
Locke looked at the snow-covered screen and the corners of his mouth quirked upward. No need to guess; that was SHIELD's handiwork. They were dedicated to keeping the mystical world separate from the mundane one. If they didn't act after a display that shattered the public's reality like that, they wouldn't have a reason to exist.
Locke wasn't angry. He had achieved the desired effect.
He looked at the large grey rat cowering on the studio floor. Even as a rodent, its back leg was broken and twisted—exactly like Barry Weiss's.
Locke turned to the stunned Patty Finn and smiled. "Patty, do you think this punishnt will make other criminals think twice before using my na?"
Patty stared at him with an unreadable expression. Think twice? It was likely no one would ever dare impersonate the Assassin again. To be turned from a man into a rat... while the world watched... was a fate worse than death.
"Oh, by the way," Locke added, his smile widening. "Even as a rat, his consciousness remains intact."
Patty snapped out of her daze. "What? He's still aware?"
"I told you, I wouldn't kill him," Locke said softly. "I'll let him live a good, long life. Letting him die would be far too easy."
A quick death wouldn't serve as a warning. He didn't want to deal with copycats every other week. This was about efficiency and finality. Besides, with the spring sester starting soon, Locke wanted to focus on gathering achievent and potential points at a more appropriate age level.
The sound of sirens—the *real* ones—began to wail outside. Locke adjusted his cuffs and looked at Patty. "In a way, the clown is still alive, just... a change of species. Well, I've overstayed my welco. Goodnight."
He picked up the "little gifts" he'd left near the door and exited, leaving behind a shivering grey rat.
...
Two minutes later, the doors burst open as a tactical team in full gear sward the studio.
But the bird had flown.
George Stacy arrived shortly after, followed by Commander Hand and a curious Agent Colin from the FBI. They walked into the silent studio.
"George."
"Patty." George looked at the producer, his expression softening slightly. He scanned the room until his eyes settled on the despondent grey rat. "The Assassin is gone?"
Patty nodded. "Yes."
George didn't bother ordering a periter search. It was useless.
Jason Braut limped into the room behind them, his gaze landing on the rat. Suddenly, everything Locke had said on the phone made sense.
'He'll be handed back to you alive... what you do with him is up to you... unless the Animal Protection Society cos after you.'
Jason finally understood the "Animal Protection" joke. A cruel, jagged smile spread across his face. He reached behind him and pulled out a large iron cage he'd "borrowed" from soone in the elevator.
"Get this damn rat in there," Jason ordered two officers. "We're going back to the station."
The officers looked at George. George looked at Jason.
"It's a rat, George," Jason said flatly. "Not a person."
George looked around at his colleagues. They were shocked, yes, but their eyes held the sa dark satisfaction as Jason's. It was a rat. Not a man.
Commander Hand spoke up, providing the necessary "official" cover. "This was likely a high-level illusion or a magic trick we haven't seen before. The real Barry Weiss was probably moved by the Assassin during the flash."
'Magic trick.' That was the story. Whether the public believed it was their business. As long as the authorities "believed" it, it was true.
"Detective Braut," Hand said, looking at Jason. "While it is just a rat, we should ensure it's handled properly for the investigation. It shouldn't... die."
Jason caught her drift perfectly. He looked at the squirming rodent in the cage. "Don't worry. We'll take excellent care of this rat. It's going to spend a very, very long ti in our basent. It won't die easily."
George remained silent. He knew his n were on the verge of a strike; if he pushed the "law" too hard now, he'd be the one taking the fall for a collapsed departnt.
Patty Finn walked over to Jason and whispered a few words in his ear. Jason's eyes lit up. He thanked her, looking at the rat in the cage with a bright, terrifying grin.
He didn't care if it was magic or a trick. He just knew that a rat had no civil rights. And that was enough.
...
Gwen's Apartnt.
Locke slipped through the window his avatar had left cracked open, reabsorbed the double, and closed the latch. He smoothed his hair and stepped out of the study.
Gwen, who was still chatting with classmates on her phone, looked up. She blinked.
Locke paused. "What?"
Gwen shook her head and stood up. She walked over, stood on her tiptoes, and sniffed the air around him. "I don't know... every ti you co down from upstairs, it feels like you're a different person for a second. What were you doing?"
Locke's heart skipped a beat. 'Has she evolved so kind of 'Locke Radar'?' He laughed it off. "I was just checking the safe. You know, making sure the code George gave actually works."
Gwen glanced toward the kitchen where her mother, Helen, was doing the books. She whispered, "My dad doesn't have money in there, does he?"
"Nope," Locke said truthfully. "Just a gun and so old cold-case files. Any thief opening that safe would probably leave a donation out of pity."
Gwen nodded in relief. "Good. Mom hates it when Dad keeps secrets, especially now that he's a Captain."
Locke sat back down on the sofa with her.
[Ding!]
[Task Completed: "Soone is Imitating My Face"]
[Base Reward: 1,000 Achievent Points, 1,000 Potential Points]
[Influence Multiplier: 100x (Maximum)]
[Final Reward: 100,000 Achievent Points, 100,000 Potential Points]
***
Read 30 Chapters early on P-atreon/Redestro666
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