Mahito is summoning his polymorphic soul isomers and attacking the fake Mahito and dubiously real Strange
Behind his desk, Hugo Strange sat with an implacable air about him. Slowly, he reached up to slide his keyboard and some documents aside, folding his hands together and resting them sedately on the desk before him. The almost mirror finish of his glasses hid his actual eyes from view, though his expression remained frustratingly neutral and hard to read even outside of that.
The faux-Mahito, meanwhile, surged up out of his seat in a blur of motion, grabbed the chair he had been plopped down in in one hand. With a whirling motion he spun around and smashed the seating implement into the monstrosity of flesh the real deal had sent after the doppelganger. With a squelching sound of impact, the chair practically exploded as it tore halfway through the soul isomer, leaving the faux-curse standing over it as it toppled over, sporting an ear-to-ear grin as his eyes lit up with a dim red glow.
The other mess of fused flesh and muscle wasn't exactly idle. And with a looming presence that wouldn't be at all out of place if it had been wearing a hockey mask, it brought one ungainly polyhedral fist down with murderous intent. It struck the Doppel-hito squarely in the head, with a sound like a ringing bell, and his head was squished down into his body with a crunching impact, the body toppling over unceremoniously.
"How unfortunate," Strange finally spoke up again, having remained unmoving from where he sat. "I had been hoping that I might have been able to have a civil discussion, even if only for a moment."
"Oh, don't get me wrong, doc," the cursed spirit spoke up again. "We can talk all you want, for as long as you can still get words out." He dropped from the ceiling, righting himself in midair to land on his feet with an undulating motion as one end simply flowed to the other. "But I gotta say....this?" He paused, kicking at the fallen doppelganger. "Not a fan of that."
"I am afraid you misunderstand, mister Mahito." Strange unfolded his hands, resting them on the desk before him, and moved to stand up. "It is not my physical safety that will determine the longevity of any discussion we might have." He adjusted his gloves with a calm demeanor, pointedly looking away from the cursed spirit with a casual indifference so profound it made Mahito visibly bristle. "The determining factor in that...."
The room suddenly flashed, taking on a bizarre, subtly greenish tint. Mahito felt the world spin once, before he shook his head and blinked.
"....was decided long before your arrival."
There was a sound that Mahito was only just now beginning to pick up, buzzing and droning somewhere just at the edge of his hearing range. The world flashed before him again, the air seeming thick and heavy. Everything felt wrong -- just off, somehow. The lights flickered, buzzing unpleasantly and uncomfortably loud, and the world around him again lurched crazily. A hazy, green film hung in the air, and as he blinked again he noticed it....the office was absolutely ransacked. Every wall and nearly every surface was covered in signs of battle, bullet holes and scorch marks and tears and slashes. Blood spattered every surface, the guard who had been standing at the door ripped practically limb from limb, with a post-mortem hole in his chest where the soul isomer had nearly punched clean through it.
Mahito lifted a hand to his head, clutching at it as everything spun.
The hidden communicators in the hat he had pilfered from the event's deposed host flickered to life. "I never leave anything to chance, mister Mahito." Strange's voice echoed in almost imperceptibly delayed stereo, over the comms and from the man in the room. "I was hoping someone else would be the one to come crawling in here, whether literally or not. But I did not simply leave things to chance, merely praying for someone with some manners to arrive."
Mahito bared his teeth, forcing himself to straighten up and squint through the gloom. The doppelganger of himself he had spied before was crumpled on the floor, a robot duplicate sputtering and spitting sparks from where its head had been smashed in. Strange himself, standing behind the desk, just smiled at him, almost mockingly.
"Maybe you should've left a little less to chance, then...." the cursed spirit hissed. One of his hands shot back, waving vaguely at his remaining soul isomer, before something slipped out of his sleeve and he curled his fingers around it like a baseball. The hulking mass of fused flesh turned and lurched toward the doors, both arms coming up to hammer down at them with reckless abandon. In the same instant, Mahito whipped his arm forward, and hurled his hidden weapon.
Almost immediately, the tiny object ballooned and swelled up, flesh stretching and threatening to rip....before it burst asunder with a horrific explosion. Splinters and spikes of bone showered the office, skewering and ripping apart everything left, including Strange himself. Something that looked like blood in the dim, hazy light of the macabre office spurted from his wounds, as he toppled over into his chair again, going limp and still.
The office doors were smashed open, and Mahito stumbled out amid a wave of shrapnel, dust and billowing green fog, coughing and sputtering in spite of himself. Everything burned, both metaphorically and frighteningly literally; his stitched flesh felt like it was on fire, threatening to rip itself apart at the seams, and the world was still spinning and wavering like it was on a carousel.
"I've taken the liberty of making you an official appointment, mister Mahito," Strange's voice crackled over the comms again. "I will be waiting in the lower levels. I trust you know where the elevator is?"
Mahito snarled, smashing one fist against the ground as he staggered upright. "Alright then, doc...." Sucking in a deep breath, he held it for a moment, befere exhaling a cloud of green-tinged vapor with a choking gasp. Wiping a few strands of acidic-green sludge from his chin, he scowled as the world seemed to clear slightly before him, with that crap out of his system. "....you have my attention, now." And he bolted forward, swinging up and back into the vents down the hall before him, and moving like a murderous snake through them back to the core of the area.