There is the same uncertain calm over Fable City tonight. A cold restlessness that keeps me circling in the sky. It’s only a matter of time before the sirens echo through the skyscrapers, beaconing me to save the city once again. I’ve been watching over the city for months now and there hasn’t been a shortage of crime yet. Mainly petty crime stuff, but a gig’s a gig. Few more months of busting these misdemeanors and low level criminals and some real villains are bound to show up.
I feel the gemstones surge along my spine before fortifying the armor around my body. My wings swiftly change direction and guide me towards the northeast section of the city. Sure enough, a small explosion sends a fireball into the sky, and the sirens ring out in response. Fucking finally. I don’t even care that it’s in the creepy rundown factory sector. I’m actually surprised it’s taken this long for something to happen there. Always thought it would be a great place for my future arch nemesis to put down some roots.
My armor leads me to the rooftop of a warehouse; the side of which has clearly been blown out. Explosives. Nice touch. A bit of a step up from regular brawls and shootouts. There seems to be only one negative energy in the warehouse that I can sense however, so I’m totally going to need to look for more trouble after this is over. Plus, the police aren’t even here yet, which is fine. If I finish the fight super early, I’ll leave some of the new business cards I made, so I can keep getting credit for these. Kid Cavalier: Your Fabled Forever Hero.
Okay. One last scan of the building. Still one baddie. Check. Deep breath. Check. Armor in stealth mode. Check. I dive down and swoop into the opening of the warehouse.
A foul, unidentifiable smell immediately permeates through my armor causing me to gag for fresh air. And the loud obnoxious sound of humming, better yet, cooing vibrates every mystical feather on my wings. I brighten up my armor out of stealth to see what the hell’s going on. And holy shit… There’s a crap-ton of birdseed scattered everywhere. And eating all of that birdseed is a crap-ton of pigeons. And from the plague of pigeons, a crap-ton of literal crap. Nope. This is a nope from me. Hate birds. No origin story there. Just find them creepy. And I get the irony in me having wings, but they’re mystical materializations. Birds are disgusting, nasty creatures. Where’s the police? They should be able to handle this. I don’t even care how they managed to blast their way into this seed factory.
I start to fly back out when the lights suddenly switch on.
“Leaving so soon?” There’s a weird coo-laugh combination from a strange man as he cuts me off.
He’s being carried by more pigeons like some weird form of flying-rat-drone transportation. Equipped with a tophat, gold monocle, and even a cane, he is oddly dressed in a full tux. One of those old fashioned ones with tails. Which I guess is fancier? It’s hard to tell, but his tux either has a baroque black and white speckled pattern, or it’s covered in bird poo. Or both.
“I’m sorry.” I really need to work on always apologizing, but I find myself taken aback by whatever is happening here. I’m not even sure this dude is real. “And you are?”
He tips his head with his white gloved hand. “I am The Pigeon Lord! Coo Coo!”