Wanted: Dead or Alive

[Ira]

"Commitment first, teachings will come second. A bit of patience," Ira said softly, waving a hand to indicate for him to rise from his knee. A tug through the Force, pulling on Cazador to rise, accompanied her wave as it was dark within these walls and her wave more than likely went unseen. Foolish people who have to rely on their eyes to see.

"Consider it a test of your commitment. A test of your willing and readiness to abandon your humanity..." The Sith Lord trailed off as she closed her eyes, in thought.

"But how to do this? Ah...Yes. I think I may have an answer of sorts. What put you in that sorry state you were in but just a few moments ago? Your guilt concerning the death of people. I assume the death of the person with the Resistance was particularly hard to deal with all things considered, for they are fighting against a supposedly evil rule. They are the right ones. To that extent, do it again.

A Resistance doesn't die just one person. A resistance is a mindset. Find another one of their so-called leaders. And destroy them. Break them. Not only physically, mentally. Tear them apart, and let them all see the broken mess. Crush their hope.

Along that way, I am sure they will do what they can to convince you you're wrong. That they will use every trick in the books to go ahead and change your mind. And they will pull on every single string they can grab to maybe make you stop.

Resist them and complete your task. Then, knowing that you're serious about walking this path, I will openly give my teachings."

[Cazador]

Cazador could feel himself being lifted back to his feet, but Ira didn't even touch him at all. She had already given him a taste of the power he could achieve by healing his wounds. Now she showed him a taste of what he only could think of was telekinesis. His interest in these powers were continuing to grow, but then she gave him his options to obtain it. If Cazador truly wanted to grow stronger then he would have to spill the blood of the resistance once again. There was now a division in his heart. If he killed them, then he could achieve a power he always dreamed of having, but at the cost of his soul and morals. His future was about to be set in motion. The choice to make would affect his future for the rest of his life. Cazador's light and dark sides argued back in forth over what to do.

In his mind, Cazador stood in a grey void while looking left and right to see a black void and white void. Two versions of himself appeared in his mind. One was an avatar of himself of when he was a child on the white void and the other was himself dressed in his old Blackstorm armor on the black sided void.

"Tony you can't do this. You're not a murderer."

"Shut the fuck up boy! Cazador you are a killer. It's what you made for. Why fight it?"

"That's not true Tony! You're a protector. You protect those who can't protect themselves. The resistance is fighting that same cause."

"Protect? Look where that's gotten you! Your family is dead! How can you protect anything when you're so weak. Take this power and you'll never be weak again."

"But at what cost? You'll become the very thing you swore to stop."

"That's naive thinking! Think of it as making a sacrifice for the greater good. In war sacrifices must be made. Let 10 die to save 1000. It's no different. Kill them all and you'll never be weak again. You'll never have to watch the ones you love die! Think of it Cazador. She said that she can reanimate the dead. You can become even stronger than her and go beyond reanimation, but actual resurrection. You can kill whoever and decide whether or not to bring them back. The power of becoming God is at your fingertips. Imagine being able to bring your family back and build the world you've always wanted and more."

Cazador looked towards his dark side. His words were so true. He couldn't ignore them. Cazador walked away from the grey area of his mind and moved closer into the dark void. The child from his light side could be seen reaching for him to stop, but eventually the child disappeared. The dark void began to consume his grey area and move to the white void, leaving only a small area of light. His mind returned to reality and he looked towards Ira to give his response to his future teacher.

"They will all die. I won't leave a single heart left beating. There will be no survivors."

[Ira]

Her eyes settled on Cazador with a certain gleam within her faintly glowing, a gleam of a certain satisfaction.

"Excellent. I'll be waiting to see the results." Ira said turning away from Cazador. "Perhaps if you start off well, I'll even gift you with a lightsaber as well. I tend to treat my apprentices rather nicely, afterall. I'll be watching." She cooed as she walked away, moving back the way she came.

[Cazador]

Cazador watched as his future teacher returned to the darkness in which she came. While many people thought that salvation could be found in the light, Cazador was starting to see that maybe he wrong. Salvation could also come in the form of darkness as well. For now he would restore his fighting spirit by bathing in the blood of the resistance once more. While the first time was not under his control, the second time would be. If he hoped to become powerful then there would be no other way. His path was chosen and now he would need to walk it. If he hoped to combat the resistance, then he would need to get his armor back. He knew the resistance wasn't as well equipped as Vulture was, so killing them wouldn't be as difficult.

A few minutes after Ira left, Cazador also left the building. He returned to the outside destroyed block and looked around. There was no one in sight. Although he was now prepared to kill anything in his way, he would still need to tread lightly. The city was still looking for him and he couldn't just run around like an idiot. The last thing a wanted man needed was any unnecessary attention. Without his armor, he was just a normal soldier. He would need to track down the armor, he had discarded. Lucky enough, Cazador still remembered where it was at. The helmet piece was still at the resting place of his battle with Legion. The rest of it was buried at graveyard on the other side of town. This would be his first destination to go to. Cazador wanted to grab his helmet last seeing as how it would lead to a location where his mind was shattered.

He slowly made his way through the city. The shadows of the city were his ally. It was important to stay out of the light. Everywhere he went, Cazador could see wanted posters with his face plastered all over them. 'Cazador, The Butcher of Isafaro.' A fitting title for him. It had been years since he lost count of the trail of bodies left behind his path. Killing was in his blood. There was no way of justifying all the lives he had taken. He was a killer. The only thing Ira was doing was showing Cazador his true self, but through his darkness, he planned to save many lives. Kill a few to save thousands if not more. Cazador had never thought like that before, but his mind was being twisted in mentally fragile state. He was grasping to seize power no matter what the cost. Losing people had taken its toll on his life, but now it was for the worst.

Moving across the city on foot was taking hours. He needed to do his best to stay under the radar to reach his destination. He was cutting it close many times, but stealth was his ally. At one point during his journey, Cazador was almost caught at the same time by both Vulture and the Resistance, but through careful tactics was able to turn the two groups against each. The man who originally helped the Resistance whenever he could just simply stood by and watched as the two attempted to kill each other. His hate for both of them grew as moved farther along. They were both so eager to kill or take him in alive, but they would never get the opportunity to.

After hours upon hours of walking, Cazador finally made it to the graveyard of where his armor was buried. He grabbed a shovel and quickly started digging. The deeper he got the faster his digging became. The armor once used to protect now would be used to kill for power. A dark smile appeared over his face before a voice appeared behind him with sound of a gun being cocked.

"You better have a good reason for disturbing the dead you murderer."

Cazador quickly jumped to the side without turning around to see the undertaker. Just as he jumped, the man fired off his shotgun and missed. Instead of hitting Cazador, a gravestone was torn apart instead. With his shovel still in hand, Cazador launched it at his would be killer. It was a direct it on the man's skull as he fell to the ground. Cazador quickly rushed up to the stunned man and took his shotgun for himself.

"HELP! THE BUTCHER IS HERE! He's..."

BANG!

The man's head exploded into a million pieces with Cazador behind the smoking barrel. His eyes glared at the dead body before he dropped the shotgun. Light still existed in him as he could feel the guilt at what he had just done. Innocent blood was on his hands. He killed just a normal innocent man. His hands shook momentarily as he took in the sight. This would only be the beginning. Cazador clenched his fists and shook it off before he continued digging. He had to remember that it was a sacrifice and that the man would be brought back later once he got the power he so desperately wanted.

"Your death won't be in vain. I'll use this pain to get stronger."

The hole was getting deeper. The shovel made a 'thud' noise once it connected with his buried armor. He finally found it. Cazador brushed aside the dirt before pulling the heavy gear out from the hole. He opened it's power source to look at its energy crystal. It used to shine with a bright white light, but now without any power, the crystal had gone grey and colorless.

"No power... Damn it! Fine! I'll kill them all with my bare hands if I have to! I won't let this get in my way! Nothing will get in my way!"

Cazador banged his hand against the crystal. Suddenly a dark surge of power emerged into the power source. The suit was coming back online. There was something different about it though. The light from the crystal was dark red. It was giving off the same kind of energy Ira used to heal Cazador. He didn't know if it was a side effect of her power on him or if the suit still had power the whole time. Either way, he now had some of the tools required to achieve his goal. Piece by piece he applied his armor. The body pieces, his rifle, the bandoleer, his grenade belt. The only thing missing now was his helmet. Cazador would have to go back to face the place of where his mind fell apart. He had to wonder if this was all part of Ira's plan to mentally prepare him for the training. If it was part of test then he would willfully rush into it. His jetpack activated and in moments he was in the air on his way to the battlefield of where he faced off against Legion.

It didn't take nearly as long to get to the old playground thanks to his retrieved armor. Cazador arrived in only a few minutes. He landed in the middle of all the chaos that had ensued that day. The burnt corpses of the resistance were still scattered across the area. He took a moment to take in the enviorment and to absorb in the painful memories that still remained in the area. He could still remember the psychological beating that Legion gave him. She forced him to relive the death of his family over and over again. It shattered his will. He tried so hard to save the child that was trapped inside with hundreds of demons, but failed. In the end his failure cost the lives of many resistance fighters. Being back on the playground just reminded him of his failure. The frustration and sadness in him was building, but he wouldn't fall this time. The only thing that fuel him before was his rage and anger. Now he would learn to add sadness and despair to his fuel.

There would be more bodies to come. From far away he could see his helmet sticking out from the ground, awaiting the return of its master. He pulled it from the dirt and brushed it off before looking into the eyes of its visor. Things would be much different this time around. He placed the helmet over his head and took one last look at the playground.

"I should thank you Legion for breaking me. I will rise for what you did and become something greater than anyone has ever seen."

Cazador returned to the skies to search for a resistance camp. The hunt was now on. Cazador kept a close eye on his motion tracker to look for any large figures of movement. Any picked up would have to be either Vulture or the Resistance. He flew around the city for about an hour before coming across a camp in a destroyed part of the city. It looked like there had been a battle between the two factions. The Resistance obviously one the battle due to the fact that there were numerous dead Vulture troops being burnt in a fire. Cazador landed not to far from the camp site. Recon would have to be done so he could assess his prey's strength and numbers. He activated his stealth camouflage and slowly started moving through their camp undetected. His heart was racing at the thought of killing them all. While doing his scouting, Cazador could over hear some of the soldier's talk of their families.

Hearing them reminded him again of his family, but his mind was far too twisted at that point to be reasoned with. If he killed them all then his chances of resurrecting his family would be assured. Once that was done he could bring back all the ones he killed for that power. He smiled at the thought of a mortal becoming a god. Little did he know how corrupting the power Ira was offering him could be. If Cazador delved deeper into the darkness would he even remember why he sought the dark power to begin with? It was all passing over his head as he scouted the resistance camp. During his scouting mission, Cazador set up a bomb using one his two FEITD missiles. It was perfectly set in an inconspicuous location as to not draw attention. He also had the privilege of seeing the one in charge of the small battalion of the area.

The man was much older the rest of the troops and many of the soldiers circled around him. His clothing wasn't very battle like either. He had the appearance of someone who was in charge and would be Cazador's first target. He followed him slowly as the man in charge moved to an area of higher ground. It looked like he was preparing to give his men some sort of speech or give out the next set of orders. It would be perfect setting for his demise in front all of his men. With all the man's troops looking at him, Cazador layed in wait behind him. In any moment the slaughter would begin.

"At ease men. Today the victory is ours, but our war is far from over. We won't stop until we drive these Crimson bastards out of our city. For too long we've been oppressed and bullied all for the sake of one man being able to live like a King. Well no more! It's time we the people of Isafaro seize back what has always belonged to us. We may of lost many good soldiers along the way, but we can not stop. They wouldn't want us to stop. We will march on and avenge their deaths. The blood of our enemies will give our fallen heroes the rest that they deserve. When this is all over everyone will remember that we stood against the reign of tyranny and brought freedom to land that thought there was no such thing. We will not falter and we will not fail. This is our time to rise up."

Cazador's voice interrupted the speech though no one could see where he was all because of his stealth camouflage.

"You will fall and I will rise."

In that moment, Cazador's adamantium blade pierced through the battalion's leader. They all stood by with their mouths wide open. The man was gasping for breath as Cazador lifted his fragile body up and set him ablaze with his flamethrower. It was just like what he had done to 201 except this time it was on his own desires. Cazador then threw the corpse of their leader down to the Resistance.

"I will give you all the chance to take your revenge on me. Let us fight!"

There was no hesitation in their eyes. Each of them unloaded their rounds on Cazador's body. Their weak rounds couldn't pierce through his adamantium armor. He let them have their fun for a little while before he charged at them with his jetpack. He knocked over any troops in his way while dropping grenades for any that were left. A trail of explosions followed after Cazador as many bodies were incinerated by his grenades. Cazador was picking up some radio chatter on his helmet. They were calling in some big guns to take him out. The battle was about to get interesting to say the least. The remaining troops were taking cover behind debris while taking shots at Cazador. Their fighting style was becoming more guerrilla like, but they lacked the fire power to stop him. It was obvious they were stalling until back up arrived. As Cazador prepared to detonate his FEITD missile he had hidden, he was hit by some kind of heavy cannon round.

The blast knocked him to the ground as he slid across the broken cement. He turned around to see several tanks and a gunship staring down his direction. It was nice of them to bring him so many toys to play with. The tanks opened fire again, but Cazador used his grapple hook to get a hold of the gunship above them. He reeled himself in above the battlefield. Cazador pulled himself up to cockpit and threw the pilot out to his death. The gunship was now his. He quickly set his crosshairs on the tanks below while they did the same. He flew from side to side avoid their canons while he unloaded a payload of rockets on the slow moving vehicles. Direct hits, but one of them managed to get a shot on the end of his commandeered gunship. It was spinning out of control, but Cazador could see many ground troops in a building close by taking shots at his gunship. He expertly flew his crashing chopper into the building they were using for cover.

The ensuing explosion leveled it and shook the entire area. More ground troops moved in on the destroyed building with part of the chopper still sticking out of it. They wanted to be sure that Cazador was dead. Unfortunately for them, he wasn't. Cazador kicked the heavy metal and rocks of him and into the oncoming troops. His armor was covered in dents and bullet holes now. Some parts were even sparking, but still operational. He ripped the turret off of the crashed gunship and unloaded the heavy rounds on his surrounding enemies. He was in a blood frenzy now. Cazador wanted them all dead. It was a combination of rage and sadness that blinded his sense of thinking. His large battle cry could be hear all across the warzone. Each of these men had to die so that he could get his power. He would ruin so many families lives for the sake of his own desires. Whatever the proud warrior once was had died and was replaced. Throughout the battle his sense of humanity was dieing. It was time though to kill what was left of his humanity and end the battle.

While continuing to pour out shot after shot, Cazador blasted himself off into the sky and triggered his FEITD missile. Like all other times before, the area was engulfed in a ray of light and destruction. Cazador returned to the ground to ensure that no one was left alive. Sure enough, there were still some resistance left alive, but heavily wounded. He dropped the large minigun from the gunship and walked over to the survivors. He would end them with something much more personal. His adamantium blade. He needed to kill of his humanity if he hoped to become stronger. He picked up the resistance fighter and stared into his eyes. Grief began to overcome his mind over everything that transpired. Cazador made a silent vow to himself that once he gained the power he needed, he would bring them all back.

"Forgive me. I have no choice."

Before he could drive his blade into the soldier, Cazador looked down to see something being pointed at him. The trooper was holding something that resembled a gun, but it wasn't. The strange looking device then played an audio.

"Target Locked On. Railgun firing."



Cazador's eyes widened. From far off in the distance, beyond his sight, a large stream of light shot out. It was moving at a fraction of the speed of light. It pierced through his seemingly invincible armor and shattered it. He could feel the intense pain as the blast went right through his chest and out the back. Cazador dropped the soldier and fell to his knees. He could feel himself coughing up blood as his armor shut down on him.

"NO! *cough*"

He removed his helmet and started trying to crawl away from the battlefield. Blood covered his entire exposed chest while blood continued to pour from his mouth. This was it. He could feel himself dieing. Eventually he lost his energy to crawl away and just stopped. He rolled himself on his back to look at the destruction he had caused.

"So this is how it ends... You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain... I guess that's how I'll be remembered by these freedom fighters. If only they knew the truth. People will never be free. Everyone will be ruled someday. If there is a God then he failed at creating us. If only I could of become a god. I could saved them all. I could of truly shown them all a life where there would be true peace. All I wanted was a way to find peace, but now only do I fully understand at the very end. There will never be peace. Only in death will any of us find it. Peace is a lie."

Cazador shut his eyes for what he thought would be the last time. The only thing he could hear now were the sounds of footsteps coming his way.

[Ira]

When she had said she would be watching, the Sith Lord had not been exaggerating in the least. Seemingly, she stepped from the shadows of the rubble which now covered the area. Oh how she missed these feelings. She stepped over the soldier who still attempted to cling to life despite his wound from the railgun. Ira though felt to be in a merciful mood, with the work of her apprentice being considered.

Within the blink of an eye, her black lightsaber hilt was in her right hand and the white blade formed with a low hiss and hummed with an even lower constant sound. With the flick of her wrist, the brilliant white blade decapitated the writhing soldier. She continued along though as if nothing had happened, the blade disappeared with a quiet hiss and the humming vanished. The hilt was back at her waist as if it had never been removed to begin with.

Ira approached her apprentice. She loomed over him for a moment before taking another step forward and stood over Cazador's left leg before lowering herself onto her knees. Carefully, she placed a hand onto Cazador's chest while leaning forward onto him. The blood hardly bothered the woman, that was easy enough to see.

The togruta brought her left hand up, gently cradling Cazador's right cheek in the palm of her hand, her thumb stroking his cheek bone.
"You've done well, my apprentice," Ira began softly. She lowered her head down next to his left ear and whispered softly to him; "Just tell me your wish, Darth Harbinger. Life or death, which is do you desire?"

[Cazador]

Cazador struggled to open his dying eyes. He could feel something touching his chest as the pain of his wound increased. He could hardly see. His vision was failing, but Cazador could barely make her out. It was his master. She had returned from the shadows. She must have seen the whole thing. Perhaps she was following him the whole time he was out. Now the moment of truth had arrived. As she drew her head closer to his, Cazador could hear her beginning to whisper something into his ear. It was the same offer from earlier. Life or death? Cazador struggled to speak. His lungs must of been filling with blood. He refused to look any weaker than he already was. He clenched his dying fists hard enough to cause the palms of his hands to bleed.

As he stared into his master's eyes, his began to turn into a sulfuric yellow like all other sith. He opened his mouth and spoke his answer.

"I choose life....So that I may bring death."

[Ira]

Ira withdrew her hand from his cheek as she slowly sat up, sitting on his lower half for what may have seemed to be an eternity for her apprentice though it was only a few seconds. Life or death. He had served a purpose already; make a dent into things. Ira gazed off towards the distance as she thought things over rather quickly.

She dropped her other hand down heavily onto his chest. A decision made. She needed not to have her presence announced once. No. If he was to serve as her messenger, if he were to announce the arrival of a new Sith Order, he would need to be around longer to serve as a messenger for her. She was not specifically an Alchemist for the Sith, however, that did not mean she was not well versed in these arts. However, a body does have its limits. To push it too much beyond those, even with the power of the Dark Side, was asking for certain trouble - this much she knew herself from past experiences. At the very least, this would be enough to keep him alive for furture use.

The same familiar energy was pushed into his body, almost feeling as if it were ripping through his very flesh to find the spots which needed the most repair - what was needed to sustain life. Pain would linger, yes, pain of almost dying would remain. However, he would live. Without a word, Ira stood up, leaving him to stand on his own. She allowed her gaze to wander about as a hand found its way towards her mouth and rather subtly she licked some of the blood off of her gloved fingers.

Two apprentices now. Now. She needed a place to call home. A temple again and perhaps perform that ritual again. Things to think over as she trained these two and gained more followers and made more enemies.