A Man With A Dream pt 12

A/n: Here's another chapter for Ya.

Also be sure to comment a lot, it keeps me motivated.

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Faster than a speeding bullet, Striker launched a cyclone of punches on all sections of the war veteran's body.

Every hit shattered bones and ruptured organs. It was a vicious spectacle and a fatal one for any typical person.

To finish his lethal combo, Striker wrapped up with a devastating uppercut that ragdolled the man several feet in the air.

Zooming behind his steampunked-themed associate, Striker smirked as Tinker's prepared cannon discharged.

The artillery was steampunked like most of his teammates' commodities, and as it released a steel sphere the massive mechanisms jutting out of its sides swiveled fiercely. 

In slow motion, Striker watched as the cannonball left behind a trail of smoke and ebony powder in its wake. 

Then he eyed the enamoring event of a globe of metal tearing through flesh before detonating in a vivid exhibition of blood and fire. It was like a scene from an exceedingly bloody thriller flick, only made considerably worse by the very real after-smells of such an action.

Scorched meat immediately assaulted both their senses and before they could even suppress the desire to crinkle their nose in revulsion, or gag in the case of Tinker, remnants of what was their opponent splashed against the marble floor.

For a moment both were silent. Not for any appreciation for the dead, but in anticipation of the renewal of the war vet.  They should have slain the man over ten times by this point but he had recuperated each time. 

However, this was the only time they had wrecked his body to this magnitude.

A few minutes passed and Tinker released a sigh on Striker's left.

" That may have been his limit. Most regenerators, regardless of rejuvenating talent, simply cannot come back from what are essentially tiny chunks of flesh or sprinkles of blood. His degree of regeneration was astonishing but he may have lacked the survivability of top regens. " Trinket said coolly. 

The strikerr was honestly delighted he had the kid as support, not just in this confrontation, but in general. While he wasn't a supergenius like some, Tinker possessed perfect memory recollection and an admirable IQ of 147.

Not that he'd ever announce it audibly, he had a reputation to maintain.

Turning to Tinker, Striker picked his ear in indifference.

"Eh? Are you sure about that? The dude was pretty tough compared to the punching bags we generally scuffle with." 

Tinker rolled his eyes and went to speak, presumably to say something sarcastic, but ceased as his gaze latched on something behind Striker.

Whirling around Striker found himself face to face with Wesley's fist.

Without an ounce of hesitance, Striker triggered his ability and weaved underneath the expertly tossed punch before responding with a punch of his own. Only this one was charged with the ample force of both the speed and destructive qualities of his power.

He anticipated his hand to rip through the man's midsection before the side-effect of his velocity melted Wesley's bones and organs to mush. 

Instead, Wesley stood there impassively as Striker's blurred fist landed harmlessly against his abdomen. 

For a moment Striker's psyche went blank.  All the world's pigmentations appeared to drain away as he mentally attempted to make sense of what transpired.

Only for it to come exploding back as Wesley unleashed a solely pleased chuckle.

Striker dared to stare into the man's piercing blue orbs and witness a spark of realization, along with surprisingly gratitude.

Then, quicker than ever before, Wesley caught Striker's limb in a vice grip and pulled.

In the following instant face confronted knee and Striker saw stars.

...

A/n: I demand your thoughts!

Alt title: Rebirth pt 3