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Enter search code: 138824
Match Found: Nelson Martinez, a.k.a. Xochitl Cuauhtli
Relevant files: Evidence files 20A and 12D, Reference file234R
Evidence file 20A open
Contents: Journal of Nelson Martinez, found in the warehouse where incident 22X1 took place
March 17, 2010.
Decided to continue my journal, despite Cheryl finding it old fashioned. What can I say? I've always been a bit old fashioned. Hell, Cheryl had to fight to get me into the plane. Why we couldn't take a boat to Mexico is beyond me. Sure it would've taken longer but... I digress. When we arrived we perused a few local shops and had a fine cultural dinner (some sort of meat, though I've no idea what), but the hour was too late for any true sightseeing. It is morning now and we are on our in a cab en route to some obscure local chapel a local guide convinced us is quite beautiful. Cheryl wants to ask me something, I shall continue after we leave the chapel
March 20, 2010
I am no longer a man of my own, but an instrument of the world. I write this down so that future generations will understand my motives.
When we arrived at the church, I was mildly disappointed. It looked like a large box of poorly placed bricks. The only interesting features were the ornately carved door and the oddly colored red windows the guide ushered us forward with his hands, though his face seemed blank, and opened the door.
The inside of the chapel was truly amazing, even in its decrepit state. The small holes in the roof gave the room a natural light that interplayed with the blood red glow from the stained glass windows, giving the room an eerie, unearthly feel. The remains of the wooden seats faced to the front of the church where, shining in the hellish light was an altar of pure obsidian. Almost as soon as I saw it, I felt it calling, no begging me to touch it. Cheryl said something and tried to step towards me, but the guide held her back. Normally, anyone touching my wife would cause me offense, but the black altar's call had turned into a demand, and I was inexorably pulled towards it. My fingers touched the cold crystal, and all went black.
I awoke to a cold deeper than any that I had ever felt, one that chilled me to the core physically and mentally. I stood up on what felt like snowy ground and strained to see through the foreboding darkness that surrounded me. Suddenly, there was a faint glow from behind me, and I turned to see a nimbus of pure light floating in the air. And the horror that surrounded it
I was in some sort of ruined city, skeletal skyscrapers lamenting their former heights, and rusted remains of cars lying about the cracked streets. But worst of all, there were bodies. They were lying everywhere, each and every one literally frozen in a position of pure terror and pain. I fell backwards in horror, and asked aloud "W-w-What is t-this?"
A future said a voice, coming apparently from the nimbus. Except, looking back, I didn't hear the voice, so much as feel it.
"Th-the future?" I replied, still shivering from the icy world around me
A future, one where you do not save the world
"Me? Save the world? How? I'm a car salesman, for Christ's sake!" I had reached the point of cold beyond shivering
That may be what you are now, but you can be so much more. The world needs you to be so much more.
"Wait, wait, I still don't know what's going on! Who are you, for starters?
I am known by many names. I was called Tezcatlipoca. Queztoquatil. But most know me by a much simpler name. The sun.
"The sun." I stated in pure disbelief, finally reasoning that I was either dreaming or insane and that I might as well entertain myself. "Prove it"
The nimbus came over to me. It touched my skin
And I saw the Universe as the sun sees it.
I cannot explain what I saw in any terms of what I now see as our primitive language. But it changed me fundamentally, and in no way a dream ever could. I looked to the sun and spoke in awed tones "What could I possibly do for you?"
You can save me, little Xochitl Cuauhtli. You can save me from death
"How! How can I pos-"
Silence. I shall tell you. Long ago in your years, the world was about to descend into darkness. I saved the world by taking the form of the sun. But the transformation took a great toll on me, and my life force was weakened. I needed more to function. So I gave the Aztec people the charge of keeping me alive. And for a while they did. They did such a good job, I was able to stay afloat for all this time after they had been wiped out. But my energy is finally waning, and I need one of their descendents to begin the cycle anew. You are that descendant. Well, my little Xochitl Cuauhtli? Will you take up this cross?
I looked around at the devastation around me, thought about how there was no way I was going to let my Cheryl feel this horrible cold. And I said yes.
I heard the sound of a car backfiring far away
There will be those that try to stop you. They say they stand for justice, that they protect the weak. But they are truly a force of evil. One that will go to any length to prevent my continued existence. And until they are destroyed, this will be the future. They are the Sentinels. They will do everything they can to stop you. In fact, they have already begun
The world went black again.
And I found myself slumped across the floor of the chapel, the altar apparently gone
Super Speed: standard (rank 1)
I stumbled up from the floor, began to speak "Cheryl, you wo-" I slipped and froze in terror as I saw my wife s brain matter spattered across the floor! The guide looked up at me in terror and garbled something in Spanish, the gun in his hand LITERALLY still smoking. He raised the gun to me. But it was as if I had fallen from the normal flow of time, and his hand moving in a supernatural slowness. I gave an anguished cry and rushed forward, knowing only that this man was going to feel at least a fraction of the pain that was tearing me to pieces. I smashed the man with my fist before he could even begin to pull the trigger. I would notice later the strangeness of his wounds, but all I knew now was that he was sprawled on the floor, body unmoving. I fell to my knees, revenge not nearly enough to satiate the gnawing pain inside me, and cradled the corpse of my wife. Before I knew it, I had cried myself to sleep
Slashing Weapon: superior (rank 2)
I do not know how long I was out. But I was awoken by the sound of wood blasting apart, and I looked up to see the wooden doors of the gone, a cloud of debris all that remained of them. A figured stepped through the dust, saying By order of the Sentinels, Cease your tampering with the artifa- as soon as he spoke the name of the hated sunsuckers, I rushed forward. With my new senses, I finally noticed what happened to the obsidian from the altar. It had attached to my hands! I gazed at the beautiful crystal talons shining in the blood red light, and thanked Tezcatlipoca for this gift. I slashed through the sunsucker s body armor with ease, rending him apart from the belly up and decapitating him in two swift strokes. The bastard never even had time to raise his arms. At this point I still hadn t noticed the blood flowing into my talons. I was too busy ripping apart the already dead sunsucker.
I eventually stopped, my rage exhausted. I walked over to my wife, my eyes already spent of any tears I had. I retracted my talons (thank Tezcatlipoca for his foresight) and bent down to close here eyes, which were thankfully still intact. And I vowed vengeance. Not against the guide of course, he was obviously an agent of the larger force. No, the Sentinels are the object of my wrath. And they will feel it. Oh will the feel it.
End of file
Reference file 234R open
Contents: Tampico Gazette Headline file
VIGILANTE SAVES WOMAN, BRUTALLY SLAYS RAPIST- May 12, 2010
DRUG RING MURDERED, SHADOWMAN BELIEVED RESPONSIBLE- June 7, 2010
INNOCENT MAN KILLED DURING SHADOWAN S STRIKE- June 28, 2010
SHADOWMAN ROUGE! MURDERS BAR! - July 16, 2010
PUBLIC IN TERROR! SENTINELS SEND HELP! - July 17. 2010
SHADOWMAN APPEARS TO BE GONE! PUBLIC BREATHES SIGH OF RELIEF! - August 6, 2010
End of file
Feed the sun
Bio Vampire: superior (rank 2)
Evidence file 12D open
Contents: Voice log of Psylash, found in a Plane wreck in the Atlantic
bthhhrrzzz voice log entry 623, July 17, 2010. On my way to Tampico, mexico. Some fruitcake s been tearin the place up, apparently the same one that murdered Armored Ascension a few months back. After reading the file, I don t know how we didn t catch this sooner. Armored goes down and a new vigilante pops up a few weeks later with the same fighting style? No way was it a coincidence. And a bar full of innocents paid the price for our oversight. Well, fruitcake s got another thing coming if he thinks he s gonna get away with this. I m gonna smack him a good one for those innocents, and Armored too.
..bbththhhrrzz Voice log entry 624, July 19, 2010. God damn fruitcake! Uuuuuugh! Alright, let me start from the beginning. I got into Tampico just fine and met up with the local PD. They had got what I asked for: A strand of the fruitcake s hair. I attuned myself to the Psy-signature, and my god, his aura is so messed up, a hearty mix of extreme religious zeal and pure black anger. Anyway, I got two locations off the signature and we head out. We went to the first one and holy crap. I could see how his signature was so strong here. And why it was so messed up. We were in some kind of office, and the place had been massacred! The weird thing was though, there was no blood anywhere. The locals seemed unperturbed (at least less about that specific fact), saying that was the case in all the killings. Why the hell didn t we know this before!?! Anyway, we called in the CSI guys and headed to the second site. We arrived at some sorta warehouse, apparently abandoned and that smelled like hell. After seeing what this guy could do, I left the locals outside and went in myself.
Weapon Master: standard (rank 1)
The doors, while no challenge for me, were so rusty I had to force them open, and the noise they made didn t exactly contribute to stealth. So I strode in all man like and took a look around. The place looked like It used to belong to some counterfeiting operation (operative word being used to).Anyway, in case he was some sort of honorable criminal, I yelled out "Hey, Fruitcake! Come out here and show me what you got!" I heard some whispers echoing off the walls, repeating something that sounded like "Stuck-skunker" or something. Then I finally locked on his signature, and sent a blast at him. He somehow managed to dodge it and came flyin out at me with what can only be described as a crazy man's battle scream. I called my energy blade up at took a slash at him mid-air, but he actually blocked it! I like to compare my energy blade to a light saber, so whatever that black stuff is on his hands, it ain t natural. We were locked in melee, And damn, he was good. I can outfight a lot of professional swordsmen, and I couldn t land a hit on him. And then he actually got a hit on me! It was so weird, I could feel the blood getting pulled out of me as he struck me, and whatever bad mojo is in those claws completely screwed my Psy-signature on him.
Reaction Speed: standard (rank 1)
I blasted him away, sending him flying into a printing press, but the stupid fruitcake is apparently a ninja too and he just flipped off it and stuck his claws into the wall and climbed out a window like a demonic hiker. It s been a couple days and My signature on him is still screwed up. Instead of knowing where he is, I know where he wants to go. And he s headin for Khazan. I gotta beat him there before he causes even more trouble. I m on a plane now, hopefully I m not to late
End of file
Are you sure?
A man stepped away from the computer. He pulled a phone from his suit pocket and pressed a button
"It's done. I set it so the computer thinks they were deleted an hour from now"
"Wonderful! I don't need the Sentinels taking my Xochitl before he's charged. Hehehehe, they have no idea what s coming. Oh, Copperfield, you did such a fine job playing god with Nelson. Almost feel sorry for the man. Almost. Alright, get out of there before they realize something not right."
The man closed the phone, straightened his tie, and left the room, nodding to the unconscious guard on the way out