Walking Shadows 3: Ian watched.
Ian watched Garrett run in to battle. He knew despite the nickname of Stomp, Garrett wasn’t a superhero. He wasn’t trained to fight, just a man with immense strength. Yet he still rushed into the melee with nary a second thought.
And all Ian could do was stand silently in his own projected shadows. He could only watch, though he hated himself for it.
No, he told himself as the soldiers leveled their weapons at Garrett. I have to help him.
Ian’s illusions kept him hidden as he quickly and quietly scouted the room. The apartment was nearly bare, just a few folding chairs, a love seat and a bed shoved in the corner. A second level raised just off the living area contained a small kitchenette and dining area. A door off the dinette was most likely the bathroom.
It didn’t offer Ian much to work with. His eyes fell on the folding chair and images of a professional wrestling match filled his head. He retrieved the folding chair, disappearing it in to his illusion, careful to make as little noise as possible.
He slowly carried it across the room, working his way behind the two soldiers.
“Who are you?” one of the gunmen asked Stomp. “Why are you here?”
“I…I — ”
