"...the hell?" the Conduit muttered as the being turned into a...dog? wearing a monocle? ...And was that a god damn...polka...hat?!
And then it flew away with a parting comment about his looks.
No. That did not just happen. He was dead. Dead or insane or dying or locked up in some padded room somewhere because shit like this just didn't happen in the normal world as he knew it, even after getting his powers, shit like this just didn't happen. One somewhat dirty hand came up to his face as he tried to keep the myriad thoughts whirling around his brain from bursting out in a wonderful little shower of gore. Hell, death would be mercy at this point. And then something inside Cole simply broke.
No, not yet. First...first we need to find out if we're not dreaming.
And then the first of a group of pedestrians gathers around him, leaving the Conduit the subject of numerous camera flashes as a car stops near him, horn blaring.
Perfect.
Cole raises an arm up as if lifting something, black lightning coursing through his arm as the car, driver and all, is lifted clean off the ground without even the slightest strain before a quick Electromagnetic blast launches it towards the pedestrians. The car strikes a few of the pedestrians directly, with the tank igniting soon after impact, exploding and killing the rest of the crowd along that side, either with the blast wave or the fire that follows.
The Conduit then turns to the other side of the road only to find that the group of people that were there previously have gone running for their lives, all in one direction like proper toys. Black lightning crackled up and down his arm as he raised it before firing off a salvo of Megawatt Hammers, the densely packed kinetic charges soon catching up to the pedestrians with a series of massive explosions as each primary 'rocket' struck true followed by six 'mini-rockets' that proceeded to stick themselves to the nearest warm body before blowing up as well, drawing a chuckle from Cole despite his normal disdain for Saturday morning cartoon villainy.
The amusement quickly dies as he realizes what he's done. Hardly a few hours in a city he knows nothing about and he's already painted a massive bullseye on his forehead. Well, assuming people even gave a shit, though that wasn't something he felt like betting against. Even if there weren't any living witnesses, which he doubted, the police would no doubt get called he-
Wait, why am I worried? This place can't be real, can it? I mean, this is just some fucked up dream or something and I'm going to wake up to Zeke bitching and moaning as usual, right?
Far too late, the Cole takes a moment to pinch himself, wincing slightly at the pain, more out of surprise than actual pain.
Wait, no, that's not a sure sign. You can still feel pain in a lucid dream...
The Conduit shrugs, both arms coming alive with lightning as he takes a moment to listen for any-
There. Behind him. A kid trying to crawl away from the inferno, blood trickling out of his ears as he tries to get away from th-
Cole is then interrupted by a woman, likely the kid's mom, coming out of nowhere with a purse. The Conduit only has time to raise an eyebrow before the purse smashes into his face hard enough to force him a step back.
Christ, does she have rocks in there or something?!
The time the woman takes to wind up for another swing, however, proves to be her undoing as a single electrically charged fist slams into her in return, knocking her back as the current courses through her body. After that, a quick salvo of lightning bolts finished her off. Staring at the crisped body for a moment to make sure it won't be getting back up, Cole turns his attention back to the kid just in time to take a rock to the face. Reeling back, he fires off a bolt on reflex, striking the kid dead center and knocking him flat onto his back, gasping like a fish out of water.
Cole walked over to the kid, crouching down beside his head as he considered what to do. On one hand, killing kids was just a line that he wasn't willing to cross just yet, on the other, this could very well be some whack-ass dream, so it didn't really matter one way or another. The kid stared back at him, rage and fear and hate all at war with one another in his eyes.
"Wrong place, wrong time," Cole says simply, laying a hand on the kid's face, easily overcoming the feeble resistance that is the best his victim can muster. With a thought, the neuro-electricity in the kid's body was drained out through the hand, coursing into Cole recharging his personal reserves.
With that, Cole stands up again, looking over the scene of carnage as he starts to make his way down the sidewalk, unconcerned with where he ends up.