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Project Leviathan sat in the crotch of a rather large elm tree. Hung on the branch next to him was his bag, containing a pair of revolvers, belt of throwing knives, ammunition, and what scared food and water he required. Hanging on the branch to his other side was his rifle, a Chey Tac Intervention .50 with full scope, at his hips were a pair of long daggers.

He sat in this tree and cycled through his own spectrum of visible light, looking for life worth killing. All he saw were plants, and critters... nothing worth his effort, much less his ammunition.

It was at a time like this he would regret killing his creators, at least then he would have a steady flow of targets... As much as he detested it, he needed a boss. He knew he was a brilliant killing machine, hopelessly independent, but that still left him without any direction. He looked through his notepad, he was sure a lot of this information was quite out of date, but from the looks of it there were a few choice people in the surrounding area that he might be able to find happy and steady employment with. Xol, Mastema, Trunthil... Maybe... but first he needed to make contact with one of them.

A man wearing a long red coat with a red vest and black shirt underneath, which was barely visible, walked through the forest. To his back were strapped two swords with serrated edges. One blue, and one red. With these was also strapped an extremely large rifle. On his arms and legs were a pair of black gauntlets which seemed to glow with an eery light, and matching greaves.

"We've been walking for days. What's taking so long?"

"If we don't kill something soon, I'm going to-."

For ******** sake...

The man quickly drew both swords and clunked their handles together hard.

I told you two to never talk again! If you don't shut up, I'm going to have you both melted down and turned into soup cans. Understood!?

And with that, the two blades stopped talking, and he re-sheathed them on his back. He began to look around, flipping his platinum hair out of his eyes. He seemed discontent until something caught his icy blue eye. A man...or something like it was sitting in a tree. It seemed to emenate some kind of extreme power, the likes of which he hadn't encountered for quite a while.

Heh...now that's more like it...Maybe now I'll have some fun.

He pulled the rifle from his back, and without aiming, fired it into the air. The shot would ricochet off a few tree branches, but would eventually go straight for this man's head. Directly after firing, he would immediately take cover behind the nearest tree to avoid being seen right away.

With the loud thud that could be heard from the dropping body, Chronic frowned. He hadn't wanted it to be that easy.

"Bloody useless....Hmph..."

However, playing possum might not have been the best choice, as Chronic liked to rough up the corpses of his victims before taking their power for his own. He immediately drew two handguns from inside his coat and twirled them on his fingers, tossing them both in the air and then grabbing them with the opposite hands as they fell. The barrels of the guns began to discharge some kind of red electricity full of demonic energy before firing at the speed an automatic would. Each bullet would be charged with the same demonic energy as was coming from the barrels of the guns. Whilst firing, he slowly began to walk toward his 'downed' foe.

So it's not over...good.

Chronic smirked as his eyes tried to follow his opponent but failed. As the bullet came at his firearm, he immediately holstered both pistols and made an attempt to deflect the bullet with one of his gauntlets. He failed however and was shot just above the elbow. Without giving it so much as a wince, he simply jumped high in the air and charged the light energy within his gauntlet before crashing down at break-neck speeds and shaking the earth with a devastating punch, hoping to knock his foe from his hiding place.

As he hit the ground, Chronic's eyes widened. Quickly pulling himself away from Gareth and his claws, he looked at his bleeding back.

You.......You put a hole in my coat! You b*****d!

He had a higher tolerance to this kind of thing than most, and had yet to feel the effects. He immediately pulled one gauntlet back and with no warning, he would go charging at his opponent, with no visible motion in his legs and throwing an extremely powerful punch whilst charging. Directly after this, he would drop quickly to the ground and attempt a leg sweep. If this was successful, he would jump up once again and charge a powerful energy blast quickly and fire it forward at his downed foe.

((Now explain what the venom does. xp ))

Chronic was beginning to become annoyed with this opponent's constant hiding. He still hadn't felt the neurotoxin much yet, and jumped in the air, flipping upside down and drawing his two blades. He immediately begun to spin around, blades connected at the hilts. A tornado began to form, ripping out most of the plantlife in the area. It then became stronger and larger, until the red blade's effect came in and threw fire through the entire whirlwind, burning up the plantlife and spreading fire through that particular area of the forest. This would get rid of Gareth's hiding places.

The sniper rifle bullets barely phased him, and he continued his tornado until the switch was flipped. This forced him to drop to the ground and shake vigorously until one of his powers activated itself. The universe around him, including Gareth, would seem to stop indefinitely. He would remain suspended in the air, whilst Chronic would be on the ground vomitting. The sound waves had also stopped, so in very little time, he got up on his feet, grabbed his swords off the ground and jumped up to where Gareth remained suspended. Once there, he would slash with the powers of wind and fire with each blade eight times and finish it off by holding them both out forward and spinning forward, slashing in a downward motion, falling as he did so. Even if time was unfrozen, he would appear only as a blur of flame. Once this was accomplished, he would stand up and re-sheathe his swords. He was now feeling slightly disoriented, as the neurotoxin was taking effect.

His vision blurred as Gareth spoke, and he began to stagger a bit.

My...designation? Project...infinity... Call me...Chronic...for the few seconds you have left to live... I'm not done yet!

He immediately reached back into his coat and pulled out his handguns again, charging them with demonic energy quickly and firing at his opponent's feet.

Now while you're dancing....tell me your name! I like to know what to call my new weapons.

He shook his head, and his vision returned momentarily, though it likely wouldn't stay long.