CHAPTER 2: "The Militia Wants My Head. I Think."

Bullets were flying, grenades were exploding, people were screaming and running, and Trevor was not happy. Nor amused. In fact, he was rather pissed off. "HEY, STOP FIRING, YOU'RE GONNA HIT SOMEONE!" He yelled out, activating a megaphone feature for his suit. It was loud enough for the militia to stop firing, confused, and frankly terrified. "B-But we were given orders to shoot-" "Does it look like I give a crap?!" Yes, Trevor doesn't swear. Think of the children, this could be being filmed! "Now go home, and think about what you've done!" Surprisingly, the militia started murmuring in agreement, and turned around, until another high pitched, angry, German-accented voice screeched out. "NO! FACE THE MAN HEAD ON AND FIRE AT WILL!" Trevor groaned at the voice, facepalming his helmet. "Oh, not this guy..." Out from a tank stepped a short, chubby man with a white handlebar mustache, a monocle, a slightly balding flattop, and mostly black and orange military general clothing. Baron Von Lutengutenberg the IX. The man screeched out again. "SO, WE MEET AGAIN, SPEEDSTER!" "Whaaat?! I can't hear you, the fascism is drowning you out!!" This caused the Baron to grimace in anger. "Of all the insolent-! MEN, TRAIN ALL YOUR FIRE ON THE FOOL!" As soon as the Baron screeched this out, the militia all started firing at Trevor. Trevor, however, laughed and started avoiding the gunfire quite easily. "Oh please, I've avoided near point-blank lightning strikes, some bullets are absolutely nothing!" He called out with a smirk under his reflective visor. However, the soldiers kept firing upon the hero. Trevor was jumping up, down, onto walls, doing flips, just plain old showing off towards Luten. "THAT'S IT, I'M DONE!" The IX Baron screamed out and pulled out a sort of bazooka, except some parts of it glowed blues and purples. "YOU HAVE ONE CHANCE TO SURRENDER AND JOIN THE B-MILITIA, OR DIE!!!"

Trevor glared at the bazooka, then at the Baron. The bazooka. Baron. "...You know I can avoid missiles, right? You can't-" He didn't get a chance to finish as the bazooka fired a blue and purple laser blast. Trevor moved out of the direct path of the laser, but then...something odd happened. The laser stopped as it hit the ground and redirected itself towards Trevor. "HOLY-!" He was struck by the laser which sent him flying into a building. The wall crumbled as Trevor groaned. "...Ow...." He muttered softly. He staggered to his feet, his suit was lightly damaged now. A few holes in the liquid metal, no biggie. "Alright, that was...different." He groaned, stretching. "Let's try this again." He quickly started running at the Baron, taking out a few militiamen in the process. The Baron quickly charged up another blast and fired, the laser racing quickly towards Trevor, who dodged it. When it redirected towards himself, Trevor made a small barrier of light, just big enough to block the blast. "I won't fall for that twice, Barry-boy!" "IT'S BARON VON LUTENGUTENBERG!" Baron Von Lutengutenberg the IX started charging another shot when Trevor suddenly kicked the gun out of the crazy semi-Nazi's chubby hands. "EEP! I-I surrender!" The chubby man yelped, putting his hands in the air. Trevor laughed a little. "Good. Now, release these people," he demanded. The baron nodded and let out a high pitched whistle. As soon as he did, the militia seemed confused and looking down at themselves, what the hell were they wearing?! Trevor sighed softly. "Alright, down to the station with you," he said, grabbing the back of his head and suddenly rushing to a police station, putting Lutengutenberg in a cell made special for him. "There we are! Have fun in prison, I need to continue my patrol!" The speedster said, before quickly rushing out.

The gun that was kicked, it had broken on impact with the ground it landed on. A small ball of swirling blue and purple energy encased in glass managed to roll out of the broken gun and into a construction site. It stayed there, undisturbed when someone came across it. "...Ey, Richie, look at dis weird rock," a burly looking man with a hardhat and construction clothes on said. The man leaned down and picked the core of the weapon up. Another voice called out. "Oi, as long as yew ain't stealing from the normal property, yew can keep it!" "Nice, I'm putting this in my office." The construction worker said. The man clocked out and started heading home. He lived in a small, one-story house. He walked to his small office area and put the glass core in a small plastic case. "There we are..." he said, his Boston accent thick in his voice. He turned off the light and left the room, the core giving off a small glow. He never noticed the small objects in the room starting to float, spinning around the room.