Slipping the heavy plastic pieces into position, each stiff and hard, but jointed with fake servomotors and other devices.
Wires slipped into grooves as the lights kicked on with a flick of a switch before the last piece other than the helmet locked into place.
The costume was ready, an armored warrior, an unbeatable soldier.
The helmet slipped into place as a switch lit up the face plate before the visor was pressed closed to even hide his identity.
He grinned as he hefted the silvery axe that came with the costume.
Walking slowly Alexander Harris grinned at the costume he'd put together with a number of busted costume parts that the salesman had said were going to be thrown out combined with some old battery powered Christmas lights from the attic and several large pieces of plastic that he'd found in the dumpster of a local construction company while searching for wood that could be used for stakes.
While it could be boring to watch the kids, the costume was pretty cool.
xXx
Reacting to the pain the warrior rose to his feet glancing at the displays now projected onto the HUD of his armor.
Monsters were everywhere and his senses quickly confirmed that these were not others left changed by the psion plague.
Calmly he armed the rotary canon on his back, the weapons distinctive humm calming him as it lowered beside his helmet.
The mast opened with a hiss, the blast shields of the visor moving away from the glass while targeting data flashed before him.
This was crazy, the soldier thought as a burst toppled one thing that looked like Godzilla. The axe being released from his grip only to liquefy into a stream of glistening silver that traveled across his armor before settling into position around his wrist.
His senses felt the presence of magic, something that even he at his worst refused to touch due to its costs.
A part of his psyche thought this was some plot by his enemies, perhaps the Archers or the Hand. But even the Ice Queen would not involve children in her plots.
Ahead he sensed a coming army besieging several younger kids and moved to react.
Hundreds of the beasts swarmed a bus that children in costumes had taken refuge in.
He snatched one of the larger monsters up and tossed it aside to smash through a store window while a burst from his canon sent dozens flying in all directions.
Power flowed through him and his psionic powers lashed out allowing him to send a wave of debris through the crowd while he reached the rear door of the bus.
He reached out and grasped the bumper while the canon kept the beasties away. The power armors servos strained as he dragged the bus behind him and into a warehouse to keep the kids safe.
The monsters kept coming and he heard the canon begin the rapid fire clicks to signal it was empty.
The axe reformed in his hand and he attacked, charging headlong into the swarm.
His mind unleashed a wave of fire that sent several fleeing as he slammed into one bigger than he with the force of a train. The impact launched his foe airborne and away like a meteor.
The warrior remained silent as the weapon danced, shifting into a hammer as he fought.
Alarms sounded as one gorilla looking beast got its hands on him and began to squeeze, armor plates deforming. In reaction he charged electricity in his hand and slammed the energy into the monsters head, dropping it like a stone and him to his knees amidst the swarm.
Anger flashed through him and he lashed out with a flash off ice that left all of his foes frozen solid as he trudged off towards the sound of screams.
The titan fought, even as a claw pierced the knee of his armor doing damage and slowing the joint. The wound was ignored as more came, blood of every color in the rainbow splattered across his armor, the visor locked in place to allow him to see.
Blood trickled from the damaged knee and half the visor was missing with the other halfway open and halfway closed.
A clawed horror pounced him with acid that left burns in his armor and immobilized his right foot. A walking goliath had punched him in the face with enough force to launch him the length of a city block while shattering the faceplate of his armor before he set it aflame.
The wounded knight moved slowly now, throwing a furred cretin off of a girl before smashing it through a wall and moving on.
A pirate took a swipe from the hammer that dropped it as the wielders breath became heavier, tired.
Each step a labor as he continued the fight, a dozen mini-monsters managing to rip his canon from his armor when he fought to save an old lady.
He'd lost his helmet entirely in another fight with only a few protruding wires from the armor to show he ever had it.
Eventually his arm wielding his quicksilver axe was useless when something bit down on it, ripping large chunks of metal free and deep cuts in his upper arm.
A blond man with fangs and a deformed face was torturing a lady in a shredded dress.
The warrior knew he was in trouble as it was, the use of the power had covered his face in blood that dripped from his eyes and nose, even a trickle from his lips other than the battle wounds already in place from the night.
The bleached blond man had identified himself as Spike stepped on another man who apparently had to much gel in his hair.
The titan attacked his foe slamming into him with the strength he had left, launching him across the room. He noticed the damage to the last working arm and sparks running from exposed wires as his foe moved.
The impact launched him back a dozen steps to crash on his back with a crack that sent pain through his entire body, but he made not a sound.
Memories of the time before, memories before the incident that left him possessed after a fashion, the fight with the spirit that named itself One had left something else in control. He had been forced to watch the monster cause injury to his friends before he found himself here and free.
The hunter had fought to redeem himself for the sins he'd been forced to participate in.
He would not complain.
A shout by a redhead that the monster he was still fighting walked right through was unintelligible while blood poured from his ears, the power making him strong enough to move his crippled armor for a few moment as he attacked, a double handed blow visibly crushing the chest of his enemy, but the being still moved.
A kick shattered the legs and a second puch shattered the skull the instant before the power gave out.
He crumpled to the ground, first to his knees and then forwards as his last foe crumpled to dust.
Blackness filled his vision as he hit the ground.
xXx
Willow watched in horror as Xander fell, she had tried to find him but failed until he managed to save Buffy. The injuries were horrendous, and the wreckage of the armor told tales of even more that had been averted.
Buffy was already in bad shape, a mix of serious injuries, shock, and a flood of panic that left the lady curled up in the corner crying and screaming.
Angel was crawling to his feet even with burns visible across his face from holy water that Spike had poured across his features.
He flipped Xander onto his back at her insistence, the pale look on his face as the shallow breaths of the injured warrior who managed to force himself conscious once more.
"Thanks," the vampire with a soul managed to state.
"Don't mention it," came the pained words from the warrior, "Call me John, John Hunter."
And with that unconsciousness took him once more a moment before the spell ended.
Willow vanished as Buffy rose, wig falling away.
xXx
His eyes flickered open to blinding light, and for a moment he'd tried to move before the pain stopped him.
The doctors and everyone looking down at him surprised him.
It took a lot of explaining before he understood what had happened, the one he had dressed as had apparently fought from one end of Sunnydale to the other and back. The cards of thanks from those he had managed to save had been piled around him as he healed from the damage he had taken.
Behind his eyes, Xander felt the power he remembered from John.
And the quicksilver axe still pooled around his wrist, ready to fight.
Wires slipped into grooves as the lights kicked on with a flick of a switch before the last piece other than the helmet locked into place.
The costume was ready, an armored warrior, an unbeatable soldier.
The helmet slipped into place as a switch lit up the face plate before the visor was pressed closed to even hide his identity.
He grinned as he hefted the silvery axe that came with the costume.
Walking slowly Alexander Harris grinned at the costume he'd put together with a number of busted costume parts that the salesman had said were going to be thrown out combined with some old battery powered Christmas lights from the attic and several large pieces of plastic that he'd found in the dumpster of a local construction company while searching for wood that could be used for stakes.
While it could be boring to watch the kids, the costume was pretty cool.
xXx
Reacting to the pain the warrior rose to his feet glancing at the displays now projected onto the HUD of his armor.
Monsters were everywhere and his senses quickly confirmed that these were not others left changed by the psion plague.
Calmly he armed the rotary canon on his back, the weapons distinctive humm calming him as it lowered beside his helmet.
The mast opened with a hiss, the blast shields of the visor moving away from the glass while targeting data flashed before him.
This was crazy, the soldier thought as a burst toppled one thing that looked like Godzilla. The axe being released from his grip only to liquefy into a stream of glistening silver that traveled across his armor before settling into position around his wrist.
His senses felt the presence of magic, something that even he at his worst refused to touch due to its costs.
A part of his psyche thought this was some plot by his enemies, perhaps the Archers or the Hand. But even the Ice Queen would not involve children in her plots.
Ahead he sensed a coming army besieging several younger kids and moved to react.
Hundreds of the beasts swarmed a bus that children in costumes had taken refuge in.
He snatched one of the larger monsters up and tossed it aside to smash through a store window while a burst from his canon sent dozens flying in all directions.
Power flowed through him and his psionic powers lashed out allowing him to send a wave of debris through the crowd while he reached the rear door of the bus.
He reached out and grasped the bumper while the canon kept the beasties away. The power armors servos strained as he dragged the bus behind him and into a warehouse to keep the kids safe.
The monsters kept coming and he heard the canon begin the rapid fire clicks to signal it was empty.
The axe reformed in his hand and he attacked, charging headlong into the swarm.
His mind unleashed a wave of fire that sent several fleeing as he slammed into one bigger than he with the force of a train. The impact launched his foe airborne and away like a meteor.
The warrior remained silent as the weapon danced, shifting into a hammer as he fought.
Alarms sounded as one gorilla looking beast got its hands on him and began to squeeze, armor plates deforming. In reaction he charged electricity in his hand and slammed the energy into the monsters head, dropping it like a stone and him to his knees amidst the swarm.
Anger flashed through him and he lashed out with a flash off ice that left all of his foes frozen solid as he trudged off towards the sound of screams.
The titan fought, even as a claw pierced the knee of his armor doing damage and slowing the joint. The wound was ignored as more came, blood of every color in the rainbow splattered across his armor, the visor locked in place to allow him to see.
Blood trickled from the damaged knee and half the visor was missing with the other halfway open and halfway closed.
A clawed horror pounced him with acid that left burns in his armor and immobilized his right foot. A walking goliath had punched him in the face with enough force to launch him the length of a city block while shattering the faceplate of his armor before he set it aflame.
The wounded knight moved slowly now, throwing a furred cretin off of a girl before smashing it through a wall and moving on.
A pirate took a swipe from the hammer that dropped it as the wielders breath became heavier, tired.
Each step a labor as he continued the fight, a dozen mini-monsters managing to rip his canon from his armor when he fought to save an old lady.
He'd lost his helmet entirely in another fight with only a few protruding wires from the armor to show he ever had it.
Eventually his arm wielding his quicksilver axe was useless when something bit down on it, ripping large chunks of metal free and deep cuts in his upper arm.
A blond man with fangs and a deformed face was torturing a lady in a shredded dress.
The warrior knew he was in trouble as it was, the use of the power had covered his face in blood that dripped from his eyes and nose, even a trickle from his lips other than the battle wounds already in place from the night.
The bleached blond man had identified himself as Spike stepped on another man who apparently had to much gel in his hair.
The titan attacked his foe slamming into him with the strength he had left, launching him across the room. He noticed the damage to the last working arm and sparks running from exposed wires as his foe moved.
The impact launched him back a dozen steps to crash on his back with a crack that sent pain through his entire body, but he made not a sound.
Memories of the time before, memories before the incident that left him possessed after a fashion, the fight with the spirit that named itself One had left something else in control. He had been forced to watch the monster cause injury to his friends before he found himself here and free.
The hunter had fought to redeem himself for the sins he'd been forced to participate in.
He would not complain.
A shout by a redhead that the monster he was still fighting walked right through was unintelligible while blood poured from his ears, the power making him strong enough to move his crippled armor for a few moment as he attacked, a double handed blow visibly crushing the chest of his enemy, but the being still moved.
A kick shattered the legs and a second puch shattered the skull the instant before the power gave out.
He crumpled to the ground, first to his knees and then forwards as his last foe crumpled to dust.
Blackness filled his vision as he hit the ground.
xXx
Willow watched in horror as Xander fell, she had tried to find him but failed until he managed to save Buffy. The injuries were horrendous, and the wreckage of the armor told tales of even more that had been averted.
Buffy was already in bad shape, a mix of serious injuries, shock, and a flood of panic that left the lady curled up in the corner crying and screaming.
Angel was crawling to his feet even with burns visible across his face from holy water that Spike had poured across his features.
He flipped Xander onto his back at her insistence, the pale look on his face as the shallow breaths of the injured warrior who managed to force himself conscious once more.
"Thanks," the vampire with a soul managed to state.
"Don't mention it," came the pained words from the warrior, "Call me John, John Hunter."
And with that unconsciousness took him once more a moment before the spell ended.
Willow vanished as Buffy rose, wig falling away.
xXx
His eyes flickered open to blinding light, and for a moment he'd tried to move before the pain stopped him.
The doctors and everyone looking down at him surprised him.
It took a lot of explaining before he understood what had happened, the one he had dressed as had apparently fought from one end of Sunnydale to the other and back. The cards of thanks from those he had managed to save had been piled around him as he healed from the damage he had taken.
Behind his eyes, Xander felt the power he remembered from John.
And the quicksilver axe still pooled around his wrist, ready to fight.