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I was working with my friend named Pawel in an old storage room. I was 32 and he was 29. We applied for a night guard and renovator at Six Pixel Under Corps. It was our second night.
We were entering the room that we had to restore.



We were wearing gas masks in case there were toxic fumes. He tells me that we should finish it before government agents comes here. He was right. I don't want to die in prison.
An hour passed until He arrived. A government agent with a class "4" outfit. An elite agent.

I had never seen one before. He took out his uzi and he shouted, "Don't fucking move or i'm shooting both of your cute faces!"



I did not recognize Pawel after this sentence. Pawel pulled out a Beretta hidden in his pants and fired at the soldier. A shot in the head. The soldier staggered back and fell into the abyss of Sunny City ...

Pawel shouted "Run towards the door, reinforcements are sure to come !!" He was right. We were running towards the exit door when an explosion destroyed the door and threw it backwards. Government agents began to enter the room and draw their batons. Pawel started running towards them but got a hit in the skull. He stumbled and fell behind the guardrail. He broke his bones further down the hall. An officer tried to hit me with a baton while I contemplated the death of my best friend.
Fortunately, I ducked at the last moment. So I took his forearm and threw it back to the window. Kick in the face, he falls backward into the void.
Second agent, smarter, trying to get around by the right but a punch in the balls and a tackle in the stomach was enough to send him to the carpet. I push him with my fingers and he start falling backwards.
Third agent. Class 2. A big boy with a revolver. He pulls out his gun and shoots me in my shoulder and touches me. I stagger, but this shot reinforces my determination. I start sprinting to him and I tackle him with my other shoulder. The forecastle moves backward. I take the opportunity to punch him with my right hand. He begins to stagger toward the wall. I punch him in the noise chained with a kick in the lungs. He kneels before me. I take his black glasses and break them on his skull. I take the pieces of glass on the floor and skull. He stumbled and fell behind the guardrail. He broke his bones further down the hall. An officer tried to hit me with a baton while I contemplated the death of my best friend.
Fortunately, I ducked at the last moment. So I took his forearm and threw it back to the window. Kick in the face, he falls backward into the void.
Second agent, smarter, trying to get around by the right but a punch in the balls and a tackle in the stomach was enough to send him to the carpet. I push him with my fingers and he start falling backwards.
Third agent. Class 2. A big boy with a revolver. He pulls out his gun and shoots me in my shoulder and touches me. I stagger, but this shot reinforces my determination. I start sprinting to him and I tackle him with my other shoulder. The forecastle moves backward. I take the opportunity to punch him with my right hand. He begins to stagger toward the wall. I punch him in the noise chained with a kick in the lungs. He kneels before me. I take his black glasses and break them on his skull. I take the pieces of glass on the floor and start to push them in the eyes. He screams. I take his shirt and throw it down the hall. He falls on boxes of explosive waste and the room catches fire. One end of the ceiling falls in front of the exit, obstructing my passage. I head for the window. No exit.
I could hear the rain falling on the pavement, further down the street. It was relaxing. A little bit of calm in this city. Despite the rain, I lit my cigarette with my lighter. I took off my mask and threw it out the window. Smoking prevents me from thinking about pain.

My mother enters my room and asks me to go to the table. I paused my game. But you can always continue it. Join the Superfighters Deluxe community at https://mythologicinteractive.com/SuperfightersDeluxe

As I watch the dark, dark sky, I can see the scars. The scars move with the sky, they follow my every glance. The scars follow me where ever I go. I can see them in every enemy, every human I ever meet. I can see them everywhere. Damnit, I only can’t, I have to see, I am forced to. They are carved into my blood-stained lenses. From every butchered enemy I’ve gotten new stains, slowly distracting me from this world. I can’t see properly. It hasn’t rained for weeks. For months. For years. I’ve been wandering around all by myself, if we don’t count my reliable pump-action shotgun Benny. His handle is full of deep cuts, one for every opponent that has faced me. This mask, I carry it like a curse. I can’t take it off. I have no way to communicate with outside world. I have no sense of time. The world has lost its color. I can feel it, my time is slowly fading away. I am dependent on the strange boxes that float from the sky… lately, there has been fever and fever of them. I must travel further and further, face stronger and stronger opponents and weaken as I progress. I remember the early years. Chasing down small scum that imagined that they were much more than they were. It escalated to the final battle, where I lost my only real friend, Jeff. The scars of that clown, they still haunt me. I managed to deal a strike to his face with my machete, kick his spine to pieces and drop him to the acid. But still, I am not sure that he is gone… I know, that he is not, I can feel it. The scars on my mask. They know it.

I reloaded my trustworthy Benny as I decided to travel more south, taking the rooftops always when possible. It’s not safe in the streets. The beginners, they are there. They are not scary alone, but they can easily outnumber us. Dying under the mass of drooling meatbags is not really how I want to end it all. No, I am searching for something more heroic. What makes the difference between me and a regular fighter is not the skill or experience, it is the aim. I have a plan, I have something that I must achieve. I must find that clown, take down every single of his men, and at last, himself. I have to make it sure that he won’t be back. I have to end it once and for ever. I must avenge Jeff. I must get back the thing that defines myself. When I lost Jeff, I lost part of myself. Self confidence? Maybe. I am not so sure about things anymore, like rushing into every enemy is not as temptating anymore.

BANG BANG!! I hear bullet shots. WOOSH - someone rides a rocket. It’s perfectly normal around the city, but not at these heights... Could it be…?
I leave my bags behind and begin to approach the building. It is one of the tallest buildings here. Dark, with reinforced glass windows everywhere… Not an easy target to get into. At the very same moment I charge for my leap of faith the window crashes with bloody meat chunks and a ball of fire to the air. That’s my entrance this time. As I jump I grab a rope and swing myself to the room. The room is full of thugs… at least strange thugs. They all carry agent uniform with silenced pistols and glasses. But they are not professionals… They are henchmen…
They all start shooting their inaccurate shots while I precisely revolve around dealing sharp blasts with my Benny, aiming to their faces. Bullets are on the air, sweat and blood mixes and flies all around. Gory meat chunks drop as the last enemy kneels with his head having more lead than meat left. I think of grabbing a key, but then remember the good ol’ days. I grab their grenades, charge them all to the door, and smash my way through riding a heavy crate. “SURPRISE BITCHES!” I land over a few scientists, instagibbing their pathetic weak bodies under the mass of a flying hanging box. I place a few shot to spotlights dismembering the guards in the room with their crippling weight and explosive fall. Without lifting my sight, I stand still, calmly, I say: I am back. This time I’ll get you for real.

I can sense a slight grin. A small laughter raises from nowhere. Knew it, here he is: Funnyman alive, most wanted, the most slaughtering citizen in sunny city of all times. I tell him to prepare for the battle while I take a look at the room. The room is big cylinder, maybe 20 meters on radius. The floor is a steel netted panel. The walls are covered in green vertical lights. There are 8 pistons rising from the deadly acid that covers the entire floor. The door that I used to enter gets barricaded in no time. Funnyman stands up and says: “I didn’t know that you’re into show business too. Your entering was entertaining. Hah! You might as well get a career as a stuntman in a clown movie.” I hmphed. “You know why I am here. Bring it on.” I reload my Benny, knowing it was fully loaded already. Just in case. This clown never leaves anything for lady fortune. He plays safe. Always. As I finished my sentence he was already pressing a C4-detonator resulting in a paralyzing hit into my chest, instantly grounding me. As I watch up I can see him on a balcony, pressing multiple buttons and guarded with many professionally looking men. Agents. Real agents. Not baits. I realize that I was trapped, baited into this deathtrap. “I want to play a game!” Funnyman exclaims. What a moron. “You’ve been watching too much saw, that joke is too old…” – “What saw? I don’t understand what you are talking about.” – “Come on, you didn’t get that phrase by yourself.” – “Don’t ruin my joy, please? I have work to be done. Do you see those pistons? They all rise with constant speed. Same speed as the acid rises. But there’s a twist. Every five seconds one piston stops moving. Only one piston reaches the safety level.” I take a quick sight at the pistons. There are 8, impossible to jump from one to another. Let the game begin.

I select the one furthest away from the clown. “Not that one, it sinks almost first!” I decide not to take it. I’ll take the one on the right. Acid rises at a good speed, about half a meter per second. Pistons keep the same pace. The noise is almost unbearable, the pistons are rusty and scratch to their bases. “To keep this interesting, and to use the leftover baits, I’ll present you my (not) favorite band, the Sunny City Underground ToeCrushers!” Some pipes in the roof open, constantly dropping meatbags with guns. Not fighters though. They randomly shoot everyone shouting “MELEE NOOB” and trying to perform barrel jumps with the pistons… only to see that they fall down to the blistering acid. Punch in the jaw, quick turn, shoulder bash to the back and a swipe to their feet. These are easy to pick up. This continues for minutes. The balcony is metal meshing and rises same speed as the pistons. The roof rises too. The piston where I stood haven’t still sunk…. I’m already getting worried though. There are three pistons left, and the one next to me is already sinking…

I have been trying to find weak spots on the room , but everything is plated with reinforced steel. Suddenly, the flow of the underground-whateveritis-guys suddenly stop. “Two pistons left. You selected the wrong piston. I could say Ez Pez Lemnon Sqez already, but I want to see you having the same destiny that you made me suffer.” The balcony widens, opening space for 8 bazooka guys. “Die.” Time slows down. The bazookas all fire at the same time. Too much at same time. Robots, they are robots. Timing and aim is perfect. I curse the turtle guy that coded this world… bringing these bots at this time, right now, right here…

I don’t have a chance to dodge them all… I accept my fate as any hero would, in the front of unbeatable…
Just joking, I do my highest jump ever dodging the missiles, but not their explosions. I do the biggest grenade jump ever to the last piston other than mine. Funnyman already left me alone with the bots, being sure about the win. Bots feel accomplished as they succeeded in their task, to shoot directed missile to a target. They stand still waiting for more orders. When the piston raises to the level of balcony, the acid stop pouring in and everything stops. I hear a laughter with “JACKPOT”. Clown is having his own fun again. Bots turn into melee mode, and start chasing me. The fight is short, a few jump kicks and they all fall into the melting acid. Bless the turtle guy who made the bots so dumb, just bless him. Funnyman rams in while I stand on the balcony. “For fu**s sake, now I have to kill you myself!” I dodge a few hits, disarm his grenades (who the hell uses grenades in melee anyways) and grab him. I won’t let go. I hit him in the face with 50% of the max power. He whines. “This is for placing me to the pistons!” I hit again. 60% of max power. “This is for luring me into this death trap!” his nose bleeds. His eye turns black. Another, a harder hit “THIS IS FOR MAKING THE BOTS SHOOT ME” 90% power hit: “THIS IS FOR ALL THE CRIMES YOU COMMITTED BEFORE!” Full power hit: “THIS IS FOR..” a moment of slience. I have several bullet wounds. I am half crippled with the explosions. “THIS IS FOR TAKING JEFF FROM ME” !!SMASH!! He flies a long way back in an arch. Half-consciously he lifts an old magnum from his pocket. One of those slim steely ones. Not the new, thicc version. “You know what this is! YOUR END! ISN’T IT WHAT YOU CAME TO LOOK FOR? DIE!” He empties the entire gun into my chest. The scars on me gas masks lenses are deeper than ever. I can… I can almost see clearly. I can almost hear something…

Funnyman grabs me and walks slowly towards the acid pit. He says something, mumbles about something… I can’t clearly hear what he says… He gets ready to toss me. Time stops, I can see my life on my eyes, e rewinding mixtape. A dark one. I feel a huge force when I am getting tossed, but with the last power I have left I grab the clown’s sleeve and take him with me. “NOOOOOOOOOooooooo…” He is gone. Gone forever. This time… I submerge into the acid. My suit burns away. I start getting dissolved into the subtract. My lenses break up, finally. They shatter into small dust. My face is over the acids level, I can see, I can see colors, I can smell. I can see. I slowly start sinking to the acid. The view turns lighter and whiter. There were colors… All the time… And finally, as I sink totally, I can’t see the scars anymore. The threat is gone. I got the thing I was looking for… I got my heroic end.

The end.