"I've always liked Spiders." Adam comments, grabbing it by the head, ripping it off him despite it's cling, before it could get a grip, throwing it off. "They're unique, and mistreated. People are terrified of them because of what they are, and what they can do." Adam smirked as he did not relent his attack. "It's funny, really, how much we have in common with Spiders." As he says this, he performs an additional illusion, making it appear as though millions of tiny lumps beneath Alexandrea's skin is moving around her body, until they begin to burst from her, revealing themselves to be Spiders. "Spiders symbolize us. As a species, concluding we are NOT human."
Good men build the foundations of the world, so that the bad may rule it. This is how the law abides. It's only human nature. It's historical, and as the saying goes; 'History repeats itself'. Now, the world is being torn apart. The meta problem has become coincidentally catastrophic. It was always assumed that the rapture, or nuclear warfare would be the end, that is, until powered individuals began to appear, and soon, they were more of an infestation, a curse, than something special.
Meta's are nothing more than animals. This is Jack's philosophy. But he understands the flaw of not caring about them. That would make him undermining, and underestimating.
No, he needed to care about them. Not like another human, no. More like somebody else's dog. He needed to care enough to learn everything he could about them, so he would know how to put them down with ease. That's how he'd always done it.
And here? It made no difference as Jack took another step towards the flaming man, who was roaring at Jack in anger and despair, as Jack had just killed the three other meta's with him.
The kid with a poisonous touch.
The girl with psychokinetic abilities.
And the woman with blades for hands.
They all lay dead behind Jack as he cocked his head at the pyro before him.
"I'LL KILL YOU!" The man yelled at Jack, who couldn't help, but allow the side of his mouth to tilt upwards in the tiniest movement possible. "Really?" He asked, his voice low, scratchy, and gruff. "Let's get this over with."
"Piece of cake." Jack muttered to himself as he turned and walked away from the pile of four dead bodies.