CHAPTER 12: THE RESURRECTION, PART 1

The remainder of the night for the Hillwood Heroes goes along calmly well, a welcome change from the brief moment of excitement when encountering the so-called New Rippers in their debut. Mysteriously, Valiance chose to end his patrol earlier than the rest, an occasion that had never come from him before, resulting in some worry among the others.

Of course, as the night came near a final close and daylight a few hours away, this did not matter anyway. Now, it came time for all the Hillwood Heroes to return home, and leave their troubles of the job behind for another night to gain some sleep on this one. Though, there are a select view that still have their own troubles outside the life of being one of the Hillwood Heroes, and must seek some resolve.

Arriving at a decent-sized apartment, Gerald Johannsen and Phoebe Heyerdahl make their way to a place that they have learned to call home, settling themselves down together following their graduations. The concept of moving in together seemed all too amazing for the two to comprehend as teenagers, and, now, as adults, their illusion has seemed to die down.

Most of their days are indeed good and full of love for one another, but nights like these are what test the strength of their relationship. Stepping in the door, Phoebe paid no true attention to Gerald upon re-arrival, a motion that she had been following for a majority of the night.

Hoping to speak to Phoebe about the thoughts that were troubling her, Gerald reached a hand out to her, only to have her walk away.

"I'm taking a shower." Phoebe said.

Stepping away to prepare herself for a relaxing and cleansing shower, Phoebe shut the door to the bathroom with a hard slam, showcasing a decent taste of her own frustrations. Once again left with a bitter taste in his mouth from his significant other, Gerald stood in anger and frustration over his actions, not wishing to anger her so.

He knew very well what the affair with his significant other was, and knew exactly how to solve it. There laid only one issue within that goal: His own future. Where Phoebe wanted to plan ahead for an eventual move out of Hillwood, Gerald was not so ready to leave, having numerous friends to keep him here, primarily Arnold.

Following a long talk with him, Gerald's thoughts began to gravitate towards the shared interests between him and Phoebe, leading him to follow through his next action.


Stepping into the bathroom and removing her clothing, Phoebe stepped into the shower, turning on the water and allowing it to run down her body. Where the cold air of the city of Hillwood gave her a discomforting evening, the warm water of the shower would aim to accommodate that problem, and give her a good night's sleep.

That is, of course, if she can stop her thoughts surrounding her future and Gerald's. Always the smartest of their circle of friends, even making Valedictorian at graduation, Phoebe always maintained herself one step ahead of others in planning and intellect. What a shame that, as smart as she was, no one else could see things her way.

With a future in mind for both herself and for Gerald to spend together, the only interests she holds are for the best for them both. Gerald, however, was always one to live more in the moment than plan ahead; a trait that, if left unchecked, could lead to seriously poor choices in the future.

To some extent, she agrees with his sentiments, and does try to enjoy her life both by alone and with him, but believes that he does not care enough about their future as a couple. Gerald was always known to be more 'laid-back' than others, none more aware than Phoebe herself, but the fact is no more easier to bear, and it leaves doubts on if their relationship is indeed true.

These feelings still pollute her mind, and she feels all the more frustrated.

As she fought off some of these unpleasant thoughts, clutching at her shoulders in anger, Phoebe felt a pair of hands work their way onto them, gently caressing and massaging them. Though a slight sense of fear came over her from their presence, the dark skin of the hands confirmed the hands to belong to Gerald.

Still upset with him regarding his unwillingness to think towards the future, and his unwittingly jeopardizing their relationship with it, Phoebe was not so open to the massage, trying to struggle out of it. Not accepting her rejections, Gerald sat her on the floor of the shower, continuing to massage her shoulders and hoping to relax her. As he continued on his massage, Phoebe eventually did calm down, leading her to just relax and accept his display of affection.

"It's going to take a little more than just a back massage to fix this, Gerald." Phoebe said.

"I know. That's why I wanted to say I'm down for a little future-planning." Gerald said.

"You what?"

"You were right. We need to focus more on us in the future. You've been doing a good job of that, and I haven't. I've just been focusing too much on the present. I know that you want me to see ahead for once, and I'm really tryin', but I'm just not used to-"

"No, Gerald, don't blame yourself. This is my fault."

"Whatchu mean, girl? Is it more pressure from your father again?"

Phoebe gave a light nod.

"Man, Pheebs, you can't just focus on what your father wants. You're your own woman now, and you're my woman, just like I'm your man." Gerald said.

"You don't get it, Gerald. Haven't you ever been pushed by your parents to be somebody better?" Phoebe asked.

"Well, no more than just doin' good in school, I guess."

"Ever since crime started going up, my father's been pushing me further and further to be better. The marriage angle aside, he's afraid I'll become some deadbeat or hoodlum in this city. He wants me to get out of here and have a better life."

"Easy for him to say when he retired to Florida. Why don't you just what you want to do?"

"I told you, I don't know what I want to do. That's why I want your help to plan our future out. If I don't have you planning with me, I don't know what to do."

"Hey, don't sell yourself short, Pheebs. You're not only the most beautiful girl I've known, but the brightest one, too. Hell, you think I could have made my way through high school on my own without you?"

"Being smart isn't everything, Gerald. You know what they always say about the smart kids in school. They always have it easy in class being book-smart, but, you put them in the real world, they don't have any idea on how to function in the world. For each time I helped you in class, you've helped me in fitting in better. It was always so easy when we were all just 10, but... god, it's not easy being an adult."

"Nobody said it was, girl. You think I don't have my own problems, too? You're right when you tell me I take things too easy. Arnold always taught me to take things a little slower in life, and, after he left, I stuck to those ideas a lot more."

Remembering the time when his best friend mysteriously vanished over 6 years ago, Gerald felt a sense of discomfort in his mind, clouding his own train of thought and detracting his concentration. His moment of silence was brief, but it was his hands moving still where they once gently caressed Phoebe's shoulders that led her to sense a problem in his mind.

"Man... I still can't get over him leaving like that. When he left, everything just changed. Arnold's like the kind of Mr. Rogers of this city, you know? He just makes everything alright. I took it real hard when he just left." Gerald said.

Comforting her lover in his moment of angst, Phoebe laid her own hands over his, letting her soft hands grip around his strong but gentle hands.

"We all took it hard. He's a great guy, and it just wasn't the same when he left." Phoebe said.

"But that's the main thing, you know? I already lost my best friend once, I don't wanna lose him again. That's why I don't wanna leave this town yet. I missed some of the best years of our childhoods together. I know he wants me to be happy with you, but... it's just not easy picking between my girlfriend and my best friend." Gerald said.

"It's not easy for me, either. Helga's my best friend, and I've known her as long as you've known Arnold. I don't want to leave her, either, but we can't just keep hanging out like we did as kids, even if we want to. I certainly don't want them out of our lives, but we've got our own lives to live."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. It's a damn crazy thing, too: Knowin' all too well how your life's supposed to go, but you just can't bring yourself to do it. And here I am, now, still stuck in the present, where you're off in the future."

Where Gerald once sought to provide Phoebe with some comfort in her time of need, it seems that he has now let himself become the one in need of comfort. Sensing this disturbance in her significant other, Phoebe picked her self up off the floor, standing over Gerald, lightly running her hands over his face as he looked back up at her.

"I'm not anywhere but right here with you." Phoebe said.

As the two looked back and forth at each other, the two both began to put their own troubles aside, preparing themselves for a means of comfort achieved by action rather than talk. However, before any such activity could begin, Gerald rose from the floor as well, preparing something for the occasion.

Turning to a speaker mounted in the shower, Gerald turned the speaker on, playing a light rap song to add to the moment.

[Soundtrack Cue: OutKast - So Fresh, So Clean]

With his selected song now playing, Gerald returned to his place on the floor, aiming to now turn on something, or, rather, someone, else.

"Now, where was I? Oh, yes, allow me to continue my work here." Gerald said.

Lightly pressing his lips against Phoebe's inner thigh, Gerald began to lightly suck against the flesh, bringing his touch into a kiss. Feeling the embrace of her lover's lips on the sensitive area of her leg, a light quiver began to leave her own lips; her breath trembling from the touch.

Always more conservative than the others in their group of friends, a result of her upbringing under a Japanese man and Southern American woman, Phoebe would not dare let out any such lewd noises, feeling far too stigmatized against it. Gerald, however, viewed that reservation as a challenge, making a goal of obtaining those reactions from his lover all the more to enjoy.

As he repeated the motion towards the opposite thigh, Gerald ran his kisses upwards; his mouth finding its way between both. With his mouth and tongue reaching the most sensitive part of her own anatomy, Phoebe's attempts to remain quiet during the act soon came to a halt. Now, there was no holding back the reactions from the motions put towards her.

Feeling his work send wave after wave of pleasure through her, Phoebe began calling out loudly and passionately, each cry and moan louder than the last. With his mouth laying its gentle caresses of love upon the sole flower resting in her sacred garden, a downpour soon followed on the plains, leaving her all the more wanting and waiting for their play to continue to its next act.

Setting the stage for their next part of play, Gerald began rising back up again, positioning himself for the following act. As he made his ascension, he took each step of his journey with more tender kisses along her body, as well as a slight lick within her shallow navel.

Upon making his return upwards, his lips soon made their way against Phoebe's, putting them both in a kiss. While her lips were tight against Gerald's in a passionate French kiss, their tongues clashing against one another like a deadly swordfight, her hand made its way to the most sensitive part of her own lover's anatomy, returning the favor of earlier.

With a featherly but caring touch, Gerald found his own organs readying themselves for the task at hand. Feeling him standing firm and ready for their next act, Phoebe gave him one last kiss, before leaning against the wall and bending over in presentation. Accepting the welcome invitation, Gerald made himself more than welcome, joining their bodies as one.

For a long while, the dance between these two lovers continued, never letting up for a moment. Feeling the connection of their bodies in a loving embrace, the warmth of the hot water raining down upon themselves, and hearing the screams and moans let out by one another, the act was an attack on their senses, leaving their minds barely able to think straight any longer.

Of course, all good things must eventually come to an end. Gripping themselves even tighter than before, their emotions all released themselves in one spectacular climax, leaving both to shout and scream louder than any of their past noises had done before. As the end had come, the finale had arrived with a blast and fury of feelings that left them barely able to comprehend their own thoughts.

[Soundtrack Cue End]

As the act reached its conclusion, the two lovers fell to the floor; Gerald leaning against the wall, and Phoebe laying sideways on top of him. Their act had left the two barely able to catch their own breath, so they seek do to that now before they completely lose themselves. For now, they simply focus on nothing but their breathing, their shared embrace, and the hot steam and water of the shower keeping them warm.

Though their water bill might suffer later, they just decide to lay with one another for a while longer.


As the morning sun arrives in Hillwood, the day comes to an official beginning for its occupants. Waking from a long night of sleep, much of it needed from their busy days preceding before, and some of it merely wanted for leisure or relaxation, the citizens of Hillwood all come to their feet to start a new day in one way or another; some early birds to the worm, others night owls to pick their prey later.

The city is a melting pot, and it cooks warmly under the morning sun. Full of many people of differing backgrounds, races, religions, ethnicities, and creeds, the citizens of Hillwood all come together in unity for life in this bumbling and lively city. Here, there may be the Europeans, the Middle Easterns, the Hispanics, the Asians, and the Africans; each of different descent and heritage, but no one, not even themselves, can deny their true place of belonging:

They are all citizens of Hillwood.

One citizen, however, is not so similar to the other people of Hillwood. Where many citizens are able to live freely, he cannot, and he remains a prisoner at the Hillwood Maximum Security Penitentiary. His career of crime is well-known throughout the urban history of Hillwood, and very little have sympathy for this man.

This man is 'Little' Nicky Russotti, former kingpin of crime.

Most of his days are much the same; waking from his bed, getting some exercise, eating a cheap meal, and handling his hold on Hillwood's crime in his absence and maintaining the decent income he still has. Paying off the right people in the prison, managing his business is not that difficult.

His time spent here is easy, but it occasionally has its special cases. Where he is mainly alone and undisturbed in the prison, other than his usual business meetings and discussions, this day has brought him a visitor, something that he has not found come to his realm for some time.

Unlike 'Little' Nicky, this visitor is not known too well throughout Hillwood or the Western coast of the United States, but he is known all too well in the Midwestern United States, particularly in Chicago. This visitor is the head of a rival crime family, a man in a suit and sunglasses known as Daniel 'Danny Boy' Cavella.

Following a brief but careful pat-down, Danny Boy entered a small meeting room, reserved for private visits between prisoners and whatever kind of visitors they might have. Taking a seat at a small table in the middle of the room, Danny Boy put himself face-to-face with 'Little' Nicky himself, patiently awaiting his arrival, chained to his very seat without much room to move.

"Heh. Nice touch with the chains. Wearin' 'em just for a fashion statement?" Danny Boy asked.

"Coming from the boy wearing shades inside a building." 'Little' Nicky said.

Hearing the joke regarding his sunglasses, Danny Boy removed them, setting them inside his suit jacket pocket.

"Sorry. Been watching too many John Woo flicks recently. Nobody does cool like Hong Kong. At least, not until you came around. Seriously, what's with the chains and cuffs? This turning into a fetish or something?" Danny Boy asked.

"Unlike you, I actually try to keep up some appearances now and then. Somebody sees me walking around without chains like I own the place, that could make a pretty bad story on the news. Of course, I do own the place, or, at least, enough of it, but I'd rather not advertise it."

"Hey, c'mon, Nicky, it's an open secret at this point. You were the baddest mother out on the streets for decades, and you earned every bit of what you got. There's nobody out on the streets that doesn't know your name. Hell, I heard Scorsese and De Niro are lookin' to make a movie out of you. Personally, I always thought Vin Diesel would fit your size better, but the guy can't act for shit."

"I wouldn't know. I don't watch a lot of movies."

"You outta. Bein' stuck in here, might be a good way to pass the time. But funny you should talk about keeping up appearances, because, appearances can be very deceiving things."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, see, now, myself and a lot of the old dogs, we might not be as into the game as we used to be before this whole superhero shit hit us, but things to come to our ears every now and then again. Now, from what we've heard, it appears that there's some talk about you wanting to get outta prison, and you've been planning some kinda jailbreak over the past few weeks. Note that I did say 'appears', however, because it's all just rumors and talk, what we've heard. Some of the old bosses and me, we decided to talk over what we did know, and that appearance did become more and more apparent the more we talked. What they sent me down here to do it to make sure that's not really the case, because, of course, we all know your old game, and we just wanted to make sure that what appeared to be so wasn't quite so. You diggin' it?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm diggin' it. Allow me to lay some of those concerns of yours to rest. Yes. I'm plannin' a little getout for myself."

Hearing the last words come out of 'Little' Nicky, Danny Boy stood for a moment in silence, staring back at the infamous mob boss for a follow-up to clarify his words further.

"Okay, Nicky, I'm waitin' for the punchline." Danny Boy said.

"Ain't no punchline, ain't no joke here. I'm gettin' out of here. That what you came here to hear?" 'Little' Nicky asked.

Not too pleased with the admission coming forth from 'Little' Nicky's mouth, Danny Boy let out a sigh of disappointment, holding his face in annoyance for a brief moment. Soon, his sigh soon changed to a light chuckle, laughing off the truth as it was laid out for him.

"Nicky, Nicky, Nicky... I sincerely hope you're not really serious." Danny Boy said.

"Of course I am. You're familiar with my history, was there ever a time when I didn't take things seriously?" 'Little' Nicky asked.

"C'mon, Nicky, think about what you're saying. You're a con with 20 life sentences. You really think you can just walk outta here if you damn well please? Ever heard of this little in-group called the F.B.I.? I know they're a bit of a niche sort of thing, but I'm guessing you're at least familiar with them, considering that, you know, they're the guys that busted you?"

"They only busted me because I let 'em. If it weren't for other circumstances, I'd 'a wasted all the pigs and nobody'd find their bodies."

"Bullshit. Nobody wastes a fed and get away with it. Not even you."

"Try 5 of 'em."

"Not that I've heard of."

"Yeah. That's the point."

"Save it. I get enough bullshitting from the New Yorkers. Listen, Nicky, just think about this for a second. We're already in a world of hurt as it is with the supers comin' out of nowhere. Before, all we hadda worry about was the pigs, and we could buy them off. Supers, you can't buy. They're too damn principled, and crazy. Any bad cops we got, they've cleaned up. Any dealers we got, they bust up. Our world's just not ready for some mayhem at the moment, okay? Look, you got it better than the rest of us, you get all the control you need and all the luxury you want."

"That's not what it's about."

"Then what's it about, huh? What do you want, Nicky? You want more money? You want some coke? A conjugal visit? You want a woman? You want 2 women? You want a damn dog? C'mon, talk to me, Nicky, what's this about? What can I give you to calm you down?"

"You remember my boy, 'Big' Gino?"

"Oh, Jesus, is that what this is about? You're upset because your kid died?"

"'Upset'? 'Upset'? You think that's my idea of 'upset'? I get 'upset' when my pizza comes 2 hours late and cold. I get 'upset' when I get stuck in traffic in a jam. Hell, I got 'upset' when Mickey Kaline retired from the Hillwood Black Sox. That's my idea of 'upset'. Gino was my boy. Gino was my son. Gino was my flesh and blood, and all the family I had left. So, tell me, exactly how, in your own words, would you like to take a guess and describe how I felt when I found out my son was gunned down by some... some goddamn psycho punk who dresses like he's some kind of love child between the Joker and the Crow?!"

"Nicky, look, you're not understanding here, this isn't about-"

"No, no, no, Danny Boy, I think it's pretty clear that you don't understand. Tell me something, you got a boy of your own?"

"Nicky, let's not get off topic here-"

"Do you have a son of your own, Daniel Cavella?!"

Letting out a sigh, Danny Boy answered 'Little' Nicky's question.

"No, I don't." Danny Boy said.

"How about a girl? You got a daughter?" 'Little' Nicky asked.

"No, sir. No kids of my own."

"Then how about family? Anybody you care about? Anybody you'd be willing to die for?"

"No. Half the Cavella family don't give two shits about me, so I just repay the favor in full."

"Then don't try to bother with me telling me about how you understand or you think I'm just overreacting. This is about me, and me alone. Gino was meant to carry me on, be my legacy. A life of crime? I just wanted in the family. I wanted a future for my boy. Now, some little retarded asshole in makeup took it from him, all because he wanted to get in on the whole superhero craze. I am gonna get out of here, and I am gonna bleed that little prick myself. I've been sitting on my ass 'round here long enough, and it's about time somebody put that little shit-stain of a human being out of his own misery."

"Except this shit ain't just about you, Nicky, it's about all of us. Now, Nicky, I love ya, I really do, an' I don't wanna be the guy to have to put you down. Believe me, I'll do anything in my power to make sure it don't come to that, but half the other old guys won't hesitate like I will. You might be a working-class hero to some of us and the young kids, but the old guys have been itching for an excuse, for a moment to get rid of you. I've kept Philly cool, but Chicago, New York, L.A., Vegas, Dallas, Boston, even goddamn New Orleans wants a piece of you-"

Giving a sudden rise from his seat, Big Gino stood up on his feet, causing his chains to jingle loudly and go taut under his pull. Watching the towering and muscular 'Little' Nicky stand before him, Danny Boy suddenly went dead silent under the act of his conversational partner, a silence that was soon exploited with the interruption of 'Little' Nicky himself.

"This is not Chicago, this is not Dallas, this is not New York, this is not even Philadelphia, this city is the WILD goddamn WEST, and I'm the sheriff 'round these parts! Not those East Coast pissant cucks! This is my town!" 'Little' Nicky shouted.

After delivering his angered interruption, 'Little' Nicky pulled against the handcuffs around his arms, bending the chains and breaking their steel build as if they were brittle. Rather than try to attack Danny Boy, however, 'Little' Nicky continued to stand in his place, still looking back down on the seated Danny Boy and keeping him silent and terrified.

Another dead silence fell through the room; 'Little' Nicky flaring his nostrils in rage, and Danny Boy too terrified to even blink in the presence of this man. As any sensible person would do with knowledge of 'Little' Nicky and his past, it would be unwise to make any provocations towards the large man, lest they would be leaving without a limb or two, if they were still alive to leave.

Fortunately for Danny Boy, 'Little' Nicky had no intentions of doing such a thing; partially in his own interests, partially out of respect. Finally, after a moment of silence that held enough tension to break those with lesser wills, 'Little' Nicky spoke once again, continuing on his speech regarding his family.

"You came here on behalf on the old families? Try to calm me down? I want you to go back to them with a little message from me. You tell them that I ain't stoppin' my own plans for nothin'. I lost my baby boy a year ago, and I've got no family left. What I've got now is my own business, and my city. You can go back and tell them whatever the hell you want to tell them about me, tell 'em I'm outta my mind, tell 'em I'm off the deep end, whatever you want, but you're gonna tell them this warning for me. Any youse guys come in my town, I'll execute you personally. You try to go to war with me, I'll go to war with you. I'll take all you mothers on myself if I have to, but you ain't gonna get me to stop. You ain't never gonna stop me, because my boy is dead, and my only family left is Hillwood, and I will fight and kill to protect my GODDAMN FAMILY!" 'Little' Nicky said.

Delivering the words of his speech, 'Little' Nicky turned around, not wanting to face the terrified Danny Boy out of disgust. The reason for the disgust was a debatable one; whether the main cause of disgust was towards his audacity to speak against his own plans... or the cause was towards the waste that he had left in his pants regarding the towering 'Little' Nicky banging his fists on the table, fearing that he would be next.

Either way, it was clear that their conversation was now over, and 'Little' Nicky had no more business with this man to discuss.

"Get this Irish trash outta my face." 'Little' Nicky said.

Two of 'Little' Nicky's bodyguards approached Danny Boy and picked him out of his chair, preceding to escort him out of the prison. The act was done more out of Danny Boy's impaired actual ability to walk, rather than for the protection of 'Little' Nicky, but the terrified state of Danny Boy's mind did not stop him from sharing one final warning to the infamous mob boss, his voice trembling and stuttering to overcome his fear.

"Ni... Nicky? You... You're seriously gonna regret this, man. I came here to talk to you because I respect you, and I wanted a peaceful solution. I don't want any war and you don't either. Don't do this shit." Danny Boy said.

"And get him a roll of toilet paper and a new pair of boxers before you toss him out." 'Little' Nicky added.

Following their orders, the bodyguards escorted Danny Boy out of the building, also taking note of the final orders for the gangster who had just defecated himself. With his visitor gone and out of his line of sight and out of his mind, 'Little' Nicky let out a sigh, walking himself over to the window of the room to take a final look at Hillwood before moving back to his cell.

Staying at his side as always, Weston approached the towering 'Little' Nicky, offering him a box of cigars to enjoy along with his view.

"Your Cuban, sir?" Weston asked.

Taking a cigar and cutting and end off, 'Little' Nicky lit the end with a match, lighting the stogie and letting the smoke fill his mouth. Taking in a deep inhale of the smoke, an action very few cigar smokers would do, 'Little' Nicky let it out, feeling the full strength of the cigar take its effect.

"Thank you, Weston." 'Little' Nicky said.


The bond between a father and a daughter has been well-known and expressed through various mediums throughout the ages, and each instance of its portrayal has shown the father having a strong sense of protection for his daughter; the guardian wishing to see that no harm comes to his fragile offspring. Although the perception of the strength of a woman can be doubted by their father, no one doubts that it is simply done out of their best interests.

Buckley Lloyd is a man who has treated that sacred bond with a degree of neglect. Being a man involved in the stock market, his life revolved around only two things: Money, and how to make more money. To nurture his daughter in the only way he knew how, he sought to substitute love for money in his relationship with Rhonda, trying to buy his way to being a decent father.

While this approach might have left Rhonda a spoiled child, the approach seemed to work... until he had found her lying shot, naked, and bloodied on the floor of her room. After witnessing the debut of the city's very first superhero, the Green Eye, Buckley decided it was only appropriate that he did the same. Donning a suit of armor worn by one of his ancestors, a knight named Sir Wellington Lloyd, Buckley Lloyd became the white knight of Hillwood named Valiance.

After seeing numerous inexplicable and supernatural events appearing all over the world since the first appearance of the Green Eye, reality became to mean less and less to the millionaire, including his perception of death. Knowing of beings in the world like gravity-defying skaters, men who can draw items with chalk in the air, and preteens whose bodies are living power conduits, the fantasy of raising the dead seemed to be only steps away from actuality.

Though his progress in this scientific discovery had taken a roadblock with the lack of cooperation from Vlad Masters following a potential partnership, there was a recent discovery that gave new light to his mission. By an accidental slice across the Green Eye's cheek, Buckley had discovered something peculiar about his blood.

Rather than dry up like any normal blood would, his blood sought to preserve itself, as if each droplet were alive and trying to stay that way. Always had he been aware of the Green Eye's healing abilities, but never before had he actually put much thought into the applicability of his healing factor, especially not when accomplishing his goal of bringing back his daughter.

As some have said throughout time: 'Sometimes what you want is right in front of you.'

Now that he has what he wants, the only things that he needs to bring back his deceased daughter are two things: Money and time. He has plenty of money to spare, but his amount of time is relative to his patience. Though, with this recent discovery, that patience has been sated for a while.

The only thing able to continue to satisfy his patience now is the scientists of Membrane Laboratories. Heading into a local branch within Hillwood, Buckley entered the section of the building focused on biological research, bringing with him a sample of the Green Eye's blood.

Such a task would prove impossible for most, but Buckley Lloyd is not like most people, as he owns all the stock in Membrane Laboratories, and therefore owns it.

Making his way to the lab, Buckley Lloyd was almost instantly greeted by the head scientist of the division, coming to greet him personally upon his arrival.

"Oh, Mr. Lloyd! Always a pleasure to have our sole stockholder pay us a little visit. Pray tell, what do we owe this pleasure?" The scientist asked.

"I have a job for you. Something strictly off the books. I need a blood test." Buckley said.

Reaching into his suit pocket, Buckley Lloyd pulled out a vial of blood, handing it to the scientist. Baffled at the simple idea of being asked to test a vial of blood, the scientist looked to the vial in confusion, returning his attention to Buckley with much of the same baffled look still present in his face.

"...A blood test, sir?" The scientist asked.

"Correct. Is that a problem?" Buckley asked.

"Well, no, sir, but... why us for a simple blood test? And why a need for secrecy? Whose blood is this?"

"I'm starting a project. This blood... it's the Green Eye's. He can heal from any injury possible; ones that would kill someone even in top physical shape. I want to find out how, and I want to replicate it."


Elsewhere, where many other people in Hillwood would have caught a decent amount of sleep, there is one who has not gotten a healthy amount of sleep; spending much of his night continuing his own work. Fueled by a mix of strong dedication and passion as well an unhealthy amount of liters of coffee, this one man continues on his work to finally reach the conclusion he was seeking out.

After perusing over 5 hours of video footage on a cassette tape for nearly 10, this man hard-at-work has finally found some clue to the answers he was seeking out. This man is the doctor of Thaddeus 'Curly' Gammelthorpe, a psychologist known as Peyton Harvey Scott, and has these two questions embedded in his mind:

What is Curly, and how can he cure him?

After studying this footage, he has found the last clues he needs to solve this mystery, and, at last, hope to bring some sense of normalcy into the life of this young man again and integrate him back into society once again. Many would have thought such a task would be impossible, but the good Dr. Scott believes he has found a way at last.

Now, there is only one thing left to do:

"Alright, Curly, time we had another talk." Dr. Scott said.