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Aberrant RPG - Point of Impact: The Eruption of Chris "Impact" Shaffer


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<h1 align="center">Point of Impact: The Eruption of Chris "Impact" Shaffer</h1>

<h2><a href="mailto:SlverTyger@aol.com">Written by SlverTyger</a></h2>
<hr>

2005

"Hey, watch the door for me while I go take a leak."

"Sure thing, Shaff."

Chris Shaffer headed towards the nightclub's bathroom, unzipping his jacket as stepping in from the door caused him to get uncomfortably warm. Being a bouncer was much easier out in the cooler air. He just felt better out there. He enjoyed cool, nighttime breezes.

He also felt a little better stepping out of the bathroom, making sure no toilet paper was stuck to his shoe, his head snapping up as he heard glass breaking. He dashed out into the main room, seeing a group of toughs, each with an identical tattoo on his forearm (one of a DNA helix, a sunburst in the middle, with a 'no' sign over the sunburst). They were armed with various weapons, such as baseball bats, crowbars, chains, and one who had just smashed a bottle, slashing at the bartender with it.

Chris swore to himself, knowing this would happen when the owners hired a Nova bartender just to bring in clientele. The relatively weak (according to him) telekinetic started mentally picking up bottles and mugs, throwing them at the thugs, trying to fend them off. Dammit, where was Ned? He was supposed to be keeping an eye on things.

Chris ran at them at full tilt, mashing his fist into the face of the nearest one. He then recognized the tattoos. The punks were part of a movement called the Pure Mountaineers, an anti-nova hate group dedicated to ensuring 'genetic purity' throughout the Appalachian region. Chris was surprised that it'd taken this long for an incident like this to happen, given the rednecks that live in the area. The rest of the PM's turned around, facing him, baseball bats at the ready.

Chris was ready to face them, fists up, then all of a sudden, a pool cue cracked! across the back of his head. As he fell, he spun around to see Ned, his sleeves pulled up, the DNA helix tattoo visible. Before he could even try to get up, a steel-toed boot collided with his gut, forcing the air out of his system. He coughs, barely hearing the PM's ranting and raving above him.

"You should be lucky that's all you get, you freak-lover! We must cleanse our land of this mutated, Aberrant scum!" one of them yelled, with a fanatical fury, just before a telekinetically hurled mug collided with his nose.

Chris managed to start to get up just as the Pure Mountaineers started to climb over the bar, the bartender using his powers to hold them back. Chris grabbed one of them and smashed his face into the bar, letting go, his eyes going wide as one of them pulled a gun.

"No!" He yelled, trying to get to the shooter, but there was a popping sound just as he jogged the PM's gun. A dart hit the wall next to the bartender's head as he searched for more things to throw at the rednecks. An aluminum baseball bat collided with the back of Chris's head, knocking him down, as the shooter loaded a fired a second dart into the bartender, knocking him out almost instantly.

Just as Chris tried to get back up, a fist slammed into his face, not hurting, strangely enough, but sending a warm tingle through him. He staggered back, was grabbed, and slammed against the ground. Immediately, the other Pure Mountaineers started pounding on him with feet, fists, and weapons, leaving the doped-up bartender for the moment. He felt none of it. Chris didn't feel any pain, just a little pressure and more of the tingling.

As if struck by lightning, he jumped up, slamming his fist into the face of the nearest PM, who was, ironically, Ned, his fellow bouncer. He felt the cartilage of Ned's nose shatter instantly at his punch.

I must be hallucinating… there's a blue aura around my fist…

Chris spun around, yelling something incomprehensible as he delivered a kick to another thug's gut, the sound of ribs cracking audible in his ears. The blue aura shimmered around his leg, he noticed, just before a crowbar smacked into his face. He hit the ground, on his back, hard. He managed to roll over just as they started in on him again, the tingling getting stronger, the warmth running through his body seeming to pulsate within him, like a second heartbeat…

warmer… warmer… getting hotter… too hot…

oh God, what's wrong with my eyes…

why is it tingling so much?

the pain stopped… the pain stopped… no pain… no pain…

Oh GoD mY eYeS! They burn!

getting too too too too hot…

MY EYES! WHAT'S WRONG WITH MY EYES!

TOO HOT! TOO HO---

The world exploded.

Chris got up, slowly, his clothing in tatters. A number of frightened partygoers, those who had stuck around to watch the chaos

not so warm anymore

cautiously stepped forward, looking at him.

"Are… are you okay, buddy?" one of them asked.

"Yeah, I'm

my eyes still feel funny

just fine. What in the hell happened?"

"Well, dude, you just blew up. There was a bright blue light,

bright blue light… not as warm anymore…

and then those guys got knocked out. Are you a Nova?"

"Um, Nova. Right." Chris muttered, shaking his head to clear it, looking at the dart stuck in the bartender's neck. His pulse was okay, but pretty slow. Chris left the dart in, pulling out the one in the wall, looking at it.

It was a tranq dart, with a label on it that said 'Proteus Division Prototype'. He peeled off the sticker, carefully, making sure to keep it in good condition to examine later. Underneath, it said 'Project Utopia/Triton Foundation'. "Son of a…" he whispered.

Sirens could be heard in the distance. Chris went through the unconscious Pure Mountaineers' clothing, taking half a dozen more darts, leaving a few behind, stuffing the ones he had in his pockets. He dashed out the door, looking around. He ran in the opposite direction from the approaching cops. And ran. And ran. And ran.

Half an hour later, he was out in the woods. He didn't know where (it turned out later to be well into the next state), he didn't care. He hadn't been found, and from the looks of it, he was a few hundred miles from anywhere he had recognized. How did he get here? Wandering through the forest, he tripped and fell in a pond just beyond some trees. He hadn't been paying attention. He got out of the pond, standing next to it, and looked at his reflection once the water calmed.

He was now a few inches taller, his hair a little longer all of a sudden. His build was more chiseled now, and his clothes were damn near vaporized. All he had was his leather jacket (minus the sleeves), a T-shirt, torn-apart sneakers, and pieces of a pair of jeans. And glowing eyes.

glowing eyes?

"Oh, great." He muttered, sighing at his reflection. "Well, looks like I'm going to have to start sinking money into sunglasses for the rest of my life."

The end?

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