[The broadcast begins in darkness with the rustling of cloth against the Forge's microphone. Possible the device is inside someone's pocket, being jostled a bit by walking or a shift in the owner's position. As the seconds pass, however, silence fills the feed. Whoever has the Forge has stopped moving.]
[Then, slowly, a scene begins to fade in
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Did I what? Make it where?
[It's then he notices that Forge has been recording previously and NOT because he turned it on himself.]
Ergh... Qué gacho.
[He responds as he tracks back through the footage.]
We all made it, even though Mouse and Amp wanted things to end with everyone dead.
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It stands for "Exponentially Variegated Organism." Or for those who aren't science majors, mutants.
My entire world is infected with nanites. When they activate inside something living, they change up that thing's DNA. A lot of the time, the result is a rampaging monster.
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We have something like that in our world...some become monsters and some become heroes.
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It's hard being different.
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Dealing with people like Hunter Cain taught me not to care so much about what hateful people think, though. They won't stop me from doing my job.
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Is there ever a time where you have failed?
[It's not a malicious question. Isley is genuinely curious.]
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There have been a few times where I couldn't handle a situation by myself. The powers of EVOs vary a lot between individuals and, well... Sometimes my powers aren't right for the situation. That's when my back-up has to take point or we have to find some other way.
There was also that one time...
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May I ask what happened that one time, Rex?
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My arch-nemesis got the better of me. Turned my best friend into a rampaging EVO so he could 'jack a generator we needed for the rebuilding of Providence headquarters.
Which. Actually...
[His frown deepens.]
It was his fault we had to rebuild Providence HQ in the first place, too. The jerk stole our flying fortress and ran into right into the side of HQ.
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[Still, the statement makes him curious.]
Oh yeah? What'd you mean by that...?
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There, too, is a stigma borne of ignorance upon my family.
We Belmonts have it in us to vanquish the unholy. But to those we protect, we are no different from our prey.
So they shun us. Call us heretics and fallen angels while we bear mankind's torch against the never-ending darkness.
[Beat.]
Or rather they used to. Mostly.
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...I'd ask how anyone could be that dumb, treating heroes like the bad guys they put down. But clearly, I'm already familiar with how and why that happens.
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