Pandemonium City

In the lower downtown area, Michael is running up the street. His long black trench coat, loose black jeans, and untied sneakers were soaked in rainwater as he splashed up and down the avenue.

"Hey hey hey! I'm walkin here!" screamed a tall purple-haired man as Michael rushed past him, crossing his path as he crossed the street simultaneously.

He turned around quickly, his silvery glowing eyes tilted as he spilled sweat, "sorry, I... I... I'm sorry, I'm in a rush!"

He bolted down the long crowded streets. His DSLR camera dangling from his neck as he passed by freshly washed glass shops and hotdogs stands selling overpriced sandwiches.

He eventually reached a tall, monolithic tower in the middle of more monolithic towers. But he knew the difference between the towers. He knew that the one in front of him was the HQ of the biggest broadcast company in the world. And he also knew that he had a dream, a mission, a chance. So with all the courage built up over the last month, he walked through those doors and-

"Yeah, sorry, but we can't accept that."

"What? I... But I... I made the appointment. I have the paperwork. The-"

The secretary typed away at her computer. Clickity clack. Clickity clack. She was bouncing up and down with those long acrylic nails that slightly bent at every key.

Michael watched patiently as she scoured through the computer. As she scrolled up and down, pretending like she was doing something important. She looked back up at the pouting silver-eyed man in front of her.

In a bored tone she said, "yeah, you didn't make the appointment with the right paperwork. Sorry but come back again in... Three weeks..."

"Three weeks!" screamed Michael.

"If you raise your voice I will have to call security."

She looked up at him. He looked down at her. He watched as she combed over her nails and pressed against her brown hair. He watched as she glanced past his eyes, not caring to even look at him.

"Fine... Three weeks... I'll come back in three weeks..."

He stormed out of the building, with his camera in hand and his feet stomping against the street side concrete. He looked out over the towering skyscrapers around him. It's an endless fall of insanity. Where the rich lived and the poor walked. He looked even higher than that. At the metallic reflective platform that floated miles high in the sky. He watched as the clouds passed below it.

"God damn... If only..."

He walked through the bustling streets. Faces of horns, and deathly stares. Grins of metallic scars and gripping hair. He looked at all the faces, at all the bent and abnormal sights around him.

He looked down at his swaying camera. He forced a sad smile and began to laugh.

"Hahaha! What am I getting so bummed about. I made it Ma, Pa! I'm in the big city. I can make it big without those greedy companies-"

Smash!

Suddenly the city around him exploded and crumbled as a light of gunfire shot across the sky. Everyone started to run and scream as Michael fell back to the street floor. He looked to a small billboard slightly out of view.

[Sorcerer on the run. Beware explosions.]

"A sorcerer? I thought magic was banned in the city!"

A middle-aged man approached Michael as the sky fell around him.

"This your first time in the city?" he asked.

"Huh?"

Michael sat up from the ground as the man sat down next to him.

The skyscrapers crumbled. The falling rubble and shredded glass. The sorcerer on a broom shot across the sky, shooting explosive spells out of his lanky hand.

Michael turned to the middle-aged man. He had dark black hair and white streaks running along the sides of his head. He was also very handsome, and very built, like a retired boxer.

"No, um, yeah. I just got here two days ago," said Michael in a fearful bewildered tone as the world fell apart around him.

The middle-aged leaned forward, his sharp square chin piercing the dusted air, "the names Yanka. I saw you inside the lobby over there. It's a tough life huh?"

"Uhh... Yeah..."

A massive piece of rubble smashed into the middle of the road as the cops piled on top of it, shooting their tiny peashooter guns into the sky.

Boom!

Another large explosion erupted overhead as the villainous sorcerer blazed past, his screaming laughter drawing attention to the gun-shooting cops and their siren-filled barrage of blocked-off cop cars.

Michael watched as people were crushed and killed, as buildings crumbled and exploded.

"Does this happen often?" he asked Yanka.

"Yeah kid, it happens quite a bit. But... There is something..."

Boom!

Michael watched as the building he just walked out of exploded into a million pieces. Glass and concrete falling from the skies. He turned back to the Yanka.

"Something what?"

Yanka pointed up to the sky.

"Just watch."

He pointed to the broom riding sorcerer as he flew around in circles, destroying the skyscrapers across the city.

"You will never catch me! This city will burn! Hahahahahaha!" he screamed.

Suddenly a small sizzle of lightning struck across the sky as a man in a yellow blazer, with spiky yellow hair, stood atop one of the skyscrapers. He pointed out his finger at the sorcerer on the broom, who suddenly turned scared.

"You... Your... You actually exist?! The-"

[Hollow Thunder]

A strike of lightning shot out from this mysterious yellow-headed man's fingertip. It enticed the clouds above, making them send their senseless rage toward the sorcerer on the broom below.

Crackle-zap!

The sorcerer exploded into a brunt crisp of blood and gore. As he fell from the sky, his broom burned under his toasted ass.

"What was that?" asked Michael shocked by the strange lighting powers, that were just displayed to him.

"That's Astra. Not the guy, but who he works for."

"Astra...?"

"This city's corrupt kid. They protect it. Fight the danger. Kill the abnormal and defeat the doom."

Michael looked at all the rubble around him. The dead people crushed in the streets. The shattered glass all over his clothes and skin. He looked at the police as they started searching for survivors and scouring the area. He looked up at the building where the yellow-haired man shot out the lighting. He was gone.

"Astra..." he turned to the Yanka, he looked at his determined face.

He grabbed Michael by the shoulders, "kid! Do you know how to drive?!"

"Drive? Uhhhh... Yeah."

"Good... Meet me on West Lots Street in front of the museum tomorrow at five. There will be a car waiting there for you. It's black with a silver tint."

"What are you talking about? Are you ok? Have you been hit in the head?" asked Michael confused by Yanka's sudden request.

"No-no... I saw you in that lobby. Your camera strung by your neck. You have a dream kid. And I think I can make that dream possible."

"Really?"

"Yes, I can! Just do as I say and everything will turn out fine."