Doctor Inferno watched the inventor work. The good Doctor kept his face carefully neutral, effortlessly hiding whatever it was that he was thinking, even as the enthusiastic inventor babbled on about whatever it was that he was working on next. The inventor was, to his credit, someone whose enthusiasm and passion could easily spread to someone else, however the Doctor wasn’t someone who felt affected by the emotions of others. He heard the Inventor speak, but didn’t bother listening. Rather he watched the sheer speed with which the inventor moved and manipulated his lab, all the while maintaining a level of detail in his observations that simply shouldn’t be possible. It was if the inventor possessed a brain capable of operating at an accelerated level.
The laboratory the inventor operated in was a mess. And that was if the Doctor was being very generous. A variety of noises came from the makeshift laboratory, such as the sound of metal on metal, and the sound of motion stemming from the inventors’ maniacal pacing, additional sounds included the sound of unknown chemicals mixing in unlabeled vials, some hissing, some bubbling, some making sounds the Doctor hadn’t known could stem from chemical reactions. He noticed that vials filled with bubbling liquid were constantly about to bubble over, yet somehow the inventor always knew the precise moment in which he needed to intervene, or else the liquid would spill out of its vial and onto the precious contents of the tables beneath which the vials the suspended. The Doctor watched, able to appreciate the beauty of the inventors’ reaction time, even if he didn’t quite appreciate the beauty and sophisticated nature with which the inventors’ inventions worked. The Doctor had remained silent the entire time he had been in the laboratory, preferring to let others speak in his place, or merely preferring that others speak a lot, and know to listen when he spoke.
“Do you feel prepared?” The Doctor asked, his voice low, his words carrying meaning deeper than the energetic inventor understood. “As prepared as I can be, for what you want me to get done.” He said, his voice still energetic, still containing a palpable measure of energy and excitement, even as he contemplated the crime that his patron, the Doctor, had wanted him to execute. The young inventor, eager to please, ready to prove himself, wondered when he’d be getting the orders that he had spent the past few days training for.
The inventor displayed his power, as he turned to stare at the Doctor, listening for the Doctors’ next commands. Some of the loose scrap metal that the inventor had gathered in his chaotic lab, began to slowly lift off of the ground, very lazily, very unsteadily, and also physically untouched by anyone or anything, yet clearly floating. To someone unversed in how people with the ability to manipulate metal operate, it could easily look like the inventor had just discovered this aspect of his powers, and was untrained. He or she would assume the inventor was an unexperienced rookie when it came to manipulating metal. But the inventor wasn’t. And any other people who were skilled in manipulating “elements”, including metals, and also including poisonous gas, sand, glass, fire, water, or even more rarely the ability to control specific elements such as Iron, or Gold, would recognize that the inventor was at a high-skill level. The move was intended to disarm those who didn’t share either recognition of the ways this specific brand of power worked, or to arm those who respected his power and could pick up on the nuances of it.
The Doctor could appreciate that his subordinate seemingly didn’t have time for theatrics. Unlike many of the “villains” the Doctor had worked with, the inventor didn’t waste time making grand and sweeping gestures, but rather directly observed the Doctor, as the metal scraps began to assemble, dissemble, and reassemble themselves into various objects. Some of these objects included: a tiny car, a floating platform, a shield, and a sword. The metal seemed to be a liquid from the way it acted, changing shape, “flowing” in an odd sense through the air like water flows down a stream, or down rapids. The Doctor could appreciate it in a sense, but it physically reassembled dirty wastewater being expelled into a river, by a chemical factory. It might have reminded someone of water, but it certainly didn’t look like water. The Doctor watched two rusty pieces of what might have once been a car, come together to form a “brick”, a solid block that the inventor would probably use to attack anyone who got in his way. The Doctor figured that the inventor had a few nasty surprises for anyone who might get in his way, but at the same time the inventor also had serious powers which would make fighting him in a city difficult. Someone who can remotely manipulate metal, through magnetization, would be a dangerous foe for anyone to face, especially with the crime that the Doctor had assigned to the inventor. Not many could pull it off, but the inventor almost certainly could. Robbing a train wouldn’t be an easy task, but if it were to be done it’d send a striking message to the inhabitants of Pacific City. It was all about sending a message. All revolutions begin with sending a message.
“Keep practicing. Soon it’ll be time to strike. And you mustn’t fail. If you do, all of the inventions you’ve made will never see the light of day.” The Doctor reminded his subordinate. The inventor nodded, his energy slowly being replaced by seriousness, but it was a lengthy process which meant more and more interactions. The Doctor knew soon he’d need to leave. And when he did he’d edit the memory of the inventor. Inferno’s superpower, or at least one of them, made it easy enough to run a revolutionary army. Anyone captured by the enemy would recite falsehoods, that they thought were the truth, and then later on Inferno would reappear and re-edit the already edited soldiers mind. In Inferno’s mind, there was no such-thing as “too paranoid” or as “too many precautions”. He was sure it was something those who ranked the highest in his army would appreciate, if they were even aware of the truth. They weren’t.
Soon enough it was time for Inferno to depart, to more secret locations, and to meet with infinitely more dangerous figures than a lone, and mad, inventor. So as he routinely did, he approached his subordinate, and mentally “froze” him. He knew his underling was conscious, and even fully aware, but the subordinate couldn’t act, couldn’t move. Instead he was frozen, helplessly stuck in time, as the Doctor approached and mentally “dove” right into the inventor. It wasn’t difficult at all for the Doctor to surgically remove the memories of this interaction, and instead apply a scattering of images, words, and “thoughts” that he had carefully picked to ensure that the Inventor knew enough, but also had no information that would be worth leaking to any potential authorities. The hand-picked thoughts and emotions also work to remove any stray thoughts of betraying the Doctor, and to destroy any negative/unneeded sentiments such as resentment or fear. Inferno knew how to instill loyalty in his followers; do it remotely, again and again, until virtually all of a followers’ most important memories serve the interests of Inferno.
Inferno caused the inventor to black out, before leaving. He even left no trace of his presence in the lab, carefully removing any fingerprints, and working to give one of his other subordinates access to the security feed the inventor used to monitor the lab, so that the minion could hack the feed and change the records stored on the digital uplink. Inferno smiled as he silently left the laboratory, appreciating the fact that it had been placed below a junk-yard, an excellent resource for an inventor with the ability to mentally manipulate metal.
What do you think of the prologue to my new story? I liked what I did with the little blurb, so for now I’ll be sticking with it. This is the first half of the prologue, introducing two characters from the little blurb, which won’t be in the “real” version (this is an edit, but I wanted to change this to clarify what is meant with the last sentence. Doctor Inferno, and the Inventor are two of the characters from the little “flash-fiction” piece I wrote, they and the protagonist of that section are all characters in the story, but I meant to say that I will not be including the Flash-Fiction type piece I wrote earlier in this entry of this universe. Basically: characters in flash-fiction are characters in this story, but the flash-fiction piece “didn’t happen”), but I liked it so I’ll keep it up. I’ve written this since I wrote the tiny version, and I did both in the 3 hours I’ve been awake. What do you think? Is this better, or worse than the last one? I like it MUCH more. Far more attention to detail and stuff. Please comment if you liked it, and want to see more! 🙂 Have a great day!