Judgement's Chaotic Song

New York was a strange place. So full of life, so crowded and overpopulated, so crazy, hectic, and dark, and so full of crime that it was the closest thing to Tokyo in the United States. For that reason Koji called it Western Tokyo when joking with his friends. He'd explored the more interesting highpoints of the city from a tourists point of view; admiring the architecture of the Empire State building, the Statue of Liberty, and had taken the bus to Washington D.C. to see the Lincoln Memorial. The first thing Koji was surprised to see was a clear lack of Japanese influence in America. He had assumed that since Western culture was so prominant in Japan that it might go both ways. No, that was not the case. About the only thing Japanese abundantly found in America was video games developed, programmed, and designed in Japan, shipped to America, and translated into English. He had visited an American arcade and found it unappealing compared to the arcades found in his native Japan. He had thought that New York would be this great place, better then Tokyo, brighter then Tokyo, less criminal then Tokyo. But no. New York was just a different breed of Tokyo, an American branch so to say. New York was dirty, dark, and full of crime, just like Tokyo. The only difference here is that the American Police were far superior to that of Tokyo and Japan as a whole. He had to watch his back now. He couldn't just get in a fight with an American without paying for it. The police were only a phone call away and arrived instantly, which resulted in Koji exercising his legs more often then he was use to.

He had yet to be caught, he was too quick and crafty for the police. His small body allowed him to slip in areas the bulky Americans could not fit through with their wide shoulders and obese stomachs. His small knowledge of French Parkour also proved just as useful here in New York as in Tokyo. He could often be found jumping from rooftop to rooftop, falling great distances, only to roll to safetly when he hit the ground, and constantly climbing up normally unaccessable objects. But that was only the fun aspects of his life in the "Big City". His money was running out and he needed to find a job. At firtst he had tried to locate an underground street racing group but had failed to do so. The Americans were much stricter about cracking down on underground street racing, and besides: it was not like he had his own car anyways. But he planned to, as soon as he had the money, to order a true Japanese made street racer from Japan and 'bomb' around New York city in it, drifting around corners and generally wowing the populace while pissing off the police.

But that was just a nice dream and had nothing to do with the present. He needed money, which meant he needed a job, which meant he needed to clean up his act and actually be serious about looking for one. His money was running out and when it ran out he would lose his apartment room and everything else. So that is what he was doing today, looking for a job. The good news was American's put up signs on their businesses when they were hiring, the bad news is that he cannot read English very well. He can speak it just fine, but reading and writing was difficult for him. He was good with langauges, but only as far as speaking them. So there he was, wearing a pair of clean black slacks, black shoes, and a black dress shirt with a few top buttons unbottoned and the sleeves rolled up, and several pounds of silver jewerly located around his person in the form of bracelets, necklaces, and earings. His spiky hair was highlighted to the point that it looked brown with light blond steaks, which clashed nicely with his dark blue eyes and made his bronze skin seem lighter then it really was. A white cord trailed up from his pants pocket up his chin and then split to each side and traveled up to his ears, which were nearly hidden by his hair. Music was pumping into his ears, and he loved it. American music was so different from Asian and Japanese music, and he loved it. My Chemical Romance and Panic! At The Disco had become instant favorites among other bands, and he listened to them with every waking, and sometimes sleeping, moment.

He continued to stroll, looking for hiring signs, but nothing was found. He kept walking until, suddenly, he found himself at the edge of a giant crowd, or rather mob if the picket signs and the occasional shout was any sign. Being the ever curious, he paused his music and wiggled his way through the crowd to the front, which resulted in his legs running into a fence. On the other side was armed police officers and a jumble of other people. There were newsreporters and cameras everywhere. It must be something important. Koji poked the guy next to him in the ribs, softly, and the man turned to regard him, "What's going on here?" Koji asked and the man looked at him as if he was crazy, "Dontcha know? They're treatin' them mutants with some kind of cure," The man replied and then turned away. Koji turned back to the scene. The fence itself was on the edge of street and on the other side of the street was some kind of hospital building. Police were positioned everywhere. A bus pulled in from down the street and a group of people got out, mutants Koji assumed as they trooped into the hospital building, with guilty expressions. One man in the crowd was screaming out at police and anyone else on the other side of the fense with a pair of ears. He was arguing that there was nothing to cure, that mutation was natural evolution of the human race and that to cure it would be like curing humanity itself and de-evolving back to monkeys. The man continued to rant, and it all made sense to Koji. No one seemed to be listening, though, so the man played his trump card, which was to scream louder and accuse the government of unlawfully persecuting the extra-evolved humans known in today's media as mutants.

Now the crowd was starting to get into it all, nodding their heads and shouting "Yeah!". In Koji's mind it all made perfectly clear sense, it was against the rights established by Americans for Americans. Koji was from Japan and things were not the same, but it made sense. So he joined in with head nodding and the "yeah!"'s, getting really into it, feeling a passion for it in his heart. Then next thing he did would change his life forever. He grabbed the fense with his hands and rattled it, which caused the rest of the crowd to begin banging on things and screaming at the police, the doctors, and the mutants still within earshot. Unknown to Koji his powers manifested at that point. He was a mutant, the son of a mutant, and his powers were now being unleashed upon the world. As his passion and anger increased so did that of the rest of the crowd, each becoming angrier and angier until, finally, half a brick sailed through the air and connected with an officer's helmet, denting it and knocking the officer down. An rookie officer raised his gun and fired, right at the protesting spokesman, assuming he had been the one to throw the projectile. The bullet ripped through the man's chest, slicing through his heart, and sailing out his back, and into the women behind him. They both fell together, dead before they even hit the ground.

At first shock was felt and then a deap, seething anger boiled up. The crowd became angry, very angry. Koji turned from the fallen spokesman and glared out at the officer with the gun. He screamed in Japanese, gripped the fense, and threw his feet over it. The crowd moved with him, one being, one mind, one emotion. Together they jumped the fense with Koji, a multitude of several dozen slipping over and charging towards the police force, screaming, cursing, and brandishing any weapon they could find.
Blood had been spilt and more would follow...
For the crowd with filled with hate unfathomable...

New York. Perhaps a crime center, but it had become Christian's playground. His city of pleasure and freedom.

He called Manhattan Home, but he traveled often, all over America, sometimes back to Gifu, Japan, to see his grandparents. But for the most part, Christian lived for himself. He had few friends, and enjoyed that lifestyle, keeping he and his mutant ways to himself. The fewer people who knew about them the better, after all with the mutant cure uproar going on, he didn't want to be put in the middle of it like some other's were.

But tonight, his normal strolling path was littered with people, all gathered around a hospital. He hated crowds so he skirted them, blending into the shadows so he wouldn't be seen. It looked as if people were being lined out of a bus into the hospital to be administered the "cure". Chris couldn't help but scoff. They treated it like there was something wrong with them, like they were a disease, like the more chemicals they pumped into them, maybe they would get "better". Christian had grown to almost a pure hatred of "normal" people. They cowered in fear of the mutants, of he and his own kind.

Christian watched the ordeal go down like a movie on the screen at a dime theater. He only saw the small Asian who started the riot--well, he thought it was the Asian due to his grabbing of the fence, egging the crowd on until it was a mess of chaos and fear. Christian tried to tap into his mind from his position, but all he got was a surging mass of crimson fury and passion. It hurt him, so he stopped trying. Instead, he only watched, unable to look away from the scene in front of him.

Mesmerized.

Anger and hate filled the atmospere. It filled the mob, gave it energy, but at the price of blind rage. The police did not stand a chance as the mob bore down on them, the closest ones were crushed under a sea of fists and feet, killed instantly by the very people they were suppose to protect. The remaining officers drew their sidearms and batons and the mobs numbers lowered, but it only served to increase their hate, causing it to boil over into chaotic purportions. Blood covered the ground, the last police officer died. Their weapons were taken up, their bodies crushed undefoot, and then the mad beast paused and took in a breath. It had broken it's chain and killed it's masters, but now it was free and did not know what to do with it's freedom. But one rose to lead them, "All shall perish!" A voice screamed out, echoing from the lips of Takashi Koji before he charged the doors of the hospital, and the beast, as one, followed their messiah.

The mob was no longer the same, it had mutated, lost members, and grown angrier. Mutants in the mob employed their powers while dormant x-genes flared to life and new mutants were born. Yet the majority of the congreagation was human, and they shared the red haze of hate with their mutant counter-parts. No where in history had such an event occured; mutants and humans working together in chaotic harmony, moving as one, killing as one, breathing as one...

Gunshots mingled with screams as the mob entered the hospital from every opening. Doors, windows, and walls opened before them, allowing the beast inside. The beast had tasted blood and found it satisfactory. Doctors were slaughtered, nurses were butchered, and any mutant that stood against them was executed as traitors. And at the middle, in the eye of the maelstrom, was Koji, bathed in his own blood and the blood of others. He carried no weapons, using his hands instead. His fists dealt justice and his feet judgement. Nothing stood in his way. With his finger and lips he directed the beast. He had tamed it, made it his own, and now he was it's master. He fashioned new chains for it, chains he called justice and peace, judgement and rights. And just like that the beast became a slave again, but a willing one.

The persecuters of life would be punished here today!

Christian had never seen anything like it. It was like...the people, the mob had become it's own entity. Like it had its own brain. And that Asian man, the little one that had grabbed the fence, he was right in the middle of it, directing it, guiding it, controlling it. Fascinated and terrified at the same time, Christian could do nothing but take on the look of his environment so he could get closer without being seen.

He could hear screams, see, smell, taste the blood. He moved around the hospital's outskirts, keeping a safe distance, but close enough to see and hear what was going on. People on the street looking on had already run away in fear, or joined in with rage burning in their eyes. Chris couldn't believe how quickly it had happened. An annoyed gathering of people turned a chaotic, blood-thirsty, insatiable beast in a matter of seconds as he had watched with his own two eyes.

He found himself getting closer, trying to see every detail of the writhing, bloody mass of non-humans, circling the Asian man like he was a god, the Buddha amongst a sea of misguided people. He was like their Jesus.

Eventually not one life outside the mob remained. Some had joined the mob, the mutants seeking treatment had been alowed to leave, but in the end only the mob; the great dark beast that it had become, remained. The mob stayed close together, packed against one another, forming one singular being out of a multitude. Where Koji stepped the beast followed. He led them back down to the ground floor of the hospital, and there he took his stand upon the pile of dead and looked out amongst the crowd, and he was enlightened.

"My brothers and sisters!" He shouted, his asian accented voice souring through the large room, echoing off the walls and filling the ears of all those before him, "They seek to cure what is not an illness, they force their thoughs upon us. The call the next stage of life a curse and a disease, and in doing so have condemned the future of the human race. Mutation is evolution, and evolution is the future. It is what has turned us from primitive organisms to the most dominant species on earth. Yet they." He pointed off to the side, "The government, seeks to put an end to this. Why? How can we guess the meaning of such madness? They control the world and yet they choose to destroy life. They wagewars and abort babies. Countless billions have died because of their decisions, and this," He held in his hand a syringle containing the 'cure', "With this they deal death once again. Not our physical death, but the death of the future. With this they seek to cure evolution, a natural element of life, and encase the world as it is. But it will not last. Look around you, just look! You will find a degenerating world around you; full of evil and rapidly falling apart. Diseases spread, people become weaker, our immune systems are dying out at the same rate as our atmosphere. How long before we all perish at this rate? Evolution is the key to survival, and without the entire population of this planet, countless Quadrillions, will die. How will they die? Their bodies will break down as disease and the sun's radiation wear down their bodies. We are doomed if we remain standing instead of walking towards the bright future."

Every word made sense, every word was full of passion and conviction and filled the hearts and souls of all who heard it. Not one person was unchanged, and they hungered for more, A roar of approval went up, and filled the air. Slowly the members of the mob detached themselves to leave and return to their lives. It would not be long before the police arrived, in force, to quell the uprising, and the beast did not want to be caught by it's former master and it was too tired now to fight again. Koji watched them leave, finding a place outside the hospital to stand and watch them sneak back into the world, running home to hide, to bide their time until they could rise again. Blood still tainted their minds, and they were eagerly await the next time they tasted it.

What would their reactions be if they knew their "conviction" to follow this cause was only the result of the emotional field created by their "savior" that had mixed with their already negatively charged minds and forced them into collaberation with his massacre. They would likely feel disgusted and sorrowful, but for now they felt ontop of the world, having done what they believed they believed was necessary.

Takashi Koji wandered out from the hospital, his knuckles raw, cracked, and bleeding. A cut graced his cheek beneath his left eye and his lip was cracked in several places. The hospital workers had put up a fight. His clothing was splattered with blood, both his own and that of others. His hair is a mess, of all things. He looked like a survivor of a horry movie, except for the glint in his eyes. He looked happy, despite his appearences. He was pumped, not spiritually, but emotionally. Spirituality was not his doctrine. He did not believe in gods. He was a believe in destiny and fate. Obviously it was his fate all along to come to America and lead this uprising, this revolution. Only his memories of his father produced as much joy as he felt right now.

He began walking away from the hospital, only to pause and turn around. His blue eyes went out to another asian man, who was standing all alone. Koji had not seen this man in the melee, but that was understandable. He had not seen a lot of people, but he had felt them. This man seemed alien, incapable of being part of the beast.

He watched the asian man, but said nothing.

Christian's eyes followed the bloodied Asian--his accent was obviously that of a man straight from Japan. Christian rarely allowed himself fear. He didn't like the feeling, so he substituted it with anger. And on most occasions, with this much fear being put into his anger, he would be taking it out on someone.

But after that? There was no need for his rage. There was far enough in that one place to go around, no reason for him to add his own. The Asian finally spotted him as he had shifted back into regular light and would of course now be visible. Christian didn't move for a moment, only eyed him with a kind of perplexed curiosity, before he turned a little towards him to regard him with reluctant respect.

The police would be here soon, and Christian sure as hell didn't want to get caught here. But his mutant abilities would spare the police seeing him. This guy however. As curious as he made Christian, with all that blood on him...

"You're gonna get arrested..." Christian murmured in his only slightly accented voice, sounding much more uninterested than he actually was to learn more about this guy. "You'd better get the hell outta dodge."

Arrested? He hardly cared right now. The flames of revolution were fed by the blood of martyrs, but even then, Koji could not let himself be dragged away from his followers so soon. They needed leadership, they needed direction. How could he give them that from prison? No, he had to fight on, run now so that he may lead another chapter of this revolution.

He could hear the sirens. The police are coming!

"The storm is coming. Time to choose your destiny," He replied, before turning around and heading away from the hospital. His small feet pounded across the asphalt of the street as he crossed it, running to the other side, hoping the fence once again in one fluid motion, and then kept on running. Flashing lights up ahead! He ducked into an alley between two shops and ran down it's course, right to a dead end. He did not pause, as he ran at a wall, jumped and pushed off it, causing him to move up higher, high enough to grab the button rung of a fire escape ladder. Grunting, he pulled himself up the later with just his arms until he was able to use his feet, and then he flew up the metalic rungs, up the stairs, and on to the concrete roof of the shop the ladder was bolted to.

Jumping from rooftop to rooftop, he made his way away from the hospital. He could only go so far before the building began to break up and he could no longer jump from one to another. Employing another fire escape, he slid down to the ground and took off running. He used alleys to navigate through the city, keeping himself from being seen in his bloodied state, lest he create panic. He headed for his apartment, and the promise of a bath and clean clothes.

The storm is coming, and he's the opposing force...

"Oh for Christ's sake..." Christian could only manage as he himself took off in roughly the same direction for his own apartment. He was bigger, and not nearly as graceful as the kid, but he managed, his eyes catching only a few more glimpses of the mutant-turned-city-surfer before he ducked under a broken away fence and down the alley towards his apartment building, a bit run down.

Christian found himself glancing over his shoulder. That kid...his intentions might have been good but...not even Christian could condone the killing of all those people. Even if they did deserve it, and there was no one that would admit it before him that they deserved it. Giving an antidote for something that wasn't a disease? Persecuting mutants because of their advanced state? It didn't seem right, no, but neither did killing a bunch of people who were just trying to figure it all out...

And...the storm? Was that like...mutant code Christian was not in the loop on? Maybe the kid was just a whackjob. Then again, watching what he had been doing...watching the bloodshed, remembering the justice...it was like a wave of adrenaline through Christian's body. The image of the kid covered in blood was seared into his mind's eye, now, he'd never be able to forget it.

So was the kid their Jesus, or their Satan?