Posts Tagged ‘POV Max’

Ch. 16.1 – Max

*We’re in,* Alex reported, Maracanã Stadium’s enormous concrete hallway stretching out before and behind the team. It was surprisingly bright, the walls and ceiling near-white with various bits of arts along the sides. *Small numbers topside, normal crews inside. Our corridor’s clear. Victor, are you locked on?*

*Five by five,* Victor replied, a hint of a smile echoing through the group’s psychic bond. *I don’t know about this Skeptic of yours, but if anything else happens, I can pull out anyone who needs it.*

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Ch. 13.1 – Max

“Victor!” Max smiled for the Rift Prime, and was rewarded with a fierce hug. “Whoa. Good to see you too, handsome.” Around them, the Red Rock pulsed with life and music. Ben and Matt watched, each with an arm around the other’s waist.

“I’m sorry this took so long,” Victor said, stepping back. Max was pleasantly surprised to note that Victor still held his hand. “Between therapy, contacting the Allies, and tying up my life’s loose ends, it’s been a busy three months.”

Max squeezed Victor’s hand gently. “Hey, you have nothing to apologize for. Besides, you stayed in touch. Which reminds me.” He shook his head. “I’m guessing things didn’t work out with your parents?”

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Ch. 11.3 – Max

The shadows screamed.

Intellectually, Max knew that there wasn’t really a “shadow space” to flow through. It was a mix of Rift and Vision the adept used to evade their enemies, an ancient Daimani trick of the mind and soul. All the same, there was an echo of the concept in the Vision World, and in West’s stronghold, his Vision reigned supreme. So, emotionally, it felt and sounded like the shadows themselves were screaming as Max darted through them.

Max had been through worse. Ignoring the not-sound, the Reanimate bolted through the darkness like a desperate thunderbolt. Emerging where the physical world felt more quiet and empty than anywhere else in West’s dungeon, Max surfaced, male and taloned and bloody-eyed.

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Ch. 6.2 – Max

Maxwell Voronov darted from shadow to shadow, circling behind the Complex agents through the trees. A direct assault clearly stupid given the odds, Max slashed from stealth at fragments of their Anima. Each slice stole a trickle of power before he vanished again. Max indulged in a smile as he watched the quartet spin regularly, blaster rifles quivering just a touch as they moved. I’m pretty sure the suits are Mandate goons, but the creeps on the flying sleds are definitely Gray Company. He flew through the darkness, a blend of Blaze and Rift carrying him through the idea-space of shadow.

One of them whirled on Max, firing his rifle, and Max grunted. The burst threw him out of the Rift-shadow and back into the physical world. “Got you, freak!” the Mandate thug shouted, taking aim again.

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