I wanted to help people. Heal people.

It's funny, how life can take what you want and flip it in such a way that you can savor the bitter taste of irony on your tongue.

Upon my enrolment into the Hero Program, they would've practically given me anything I wanted. They said that I would have a spot on a high-ranking team the moment I graduated. Practically swore such. After all, every hero team wants a healer.

It was slow going at first. Before we could use our powers it was basic things, tactics class, ethical uses of powers - that one is funny to me now - situational awareness, and stuff like that. Things that would get us prepared before they threw us into combat drills.

At the time, I would work in the medical wing. I never got to actually use my powers. Something we learned, was that untrained supers, no matter the ability, had a chance to do damage even if their power itself was to do the exact opposite.

So I would help the Head Healer, observe in great detail how she would weave her abilities through the student's bodies. How her power would plunge in through their skin, and target the areas that needed patching up. After my school day, I was sent to a pet clinic. It was a place they apparently sent all of the young healers. We would apply all of the things we picked up while watching the school's Head Healer and apply them to the animals.

Using our power on smaller creatures until we were good enough to spread our abilities to humans. And I was good at it, really good. In my first week at the clinic, I was able to heal fifteen dogs, nine cats, three snakes, and one elderly gerbil named Senior Fluffball.

Now, you can only imagine the ego of a kid who was told that they had one of the strongest healing abilities. Heck, when they first ran me through the sensors to gauge my abilities the technician almost passed out just reading the numbers displayed.

So, of course, when we had our first combat assessment, and Shaun Richards, a Speedster, went up against Kyle Mitchel, a Tank, and ran at him at full speed only to find himself smashing fist first into a kid that was usually five foot nine but was now suddenly seven feet tall and made of glistening steel, the sound of snapping bone and spray of blood as Shaun's arm practically exploded from the impact, I saw it as a prime opportunity to flex my proverbial super muscles that had been aching to be used.

I remember thinking that the matchup was dumb as I ran out onto the field. They were complete opposites, but I guess the logic was that Shaun was supposed to think more tactically when fighting an opponent who could withstand his super-speed attacks. After all, the field was set up with all kinds of things he could have used to subdue the iron giant instead of attacking head-on. Just one of them being that Shaun could have used the broken-down powerlines, which were a part of the destroyed city block the arena was designed to look like, to wrap up and halt the giant. But Shaun was like most speedsters, move first, think later.

I remember sprinting past the on-site healer, who ran toward the two boys. I forced my body to pump adrenaline into my veins with my power. Enhancing my lungs to pull in more oxygen as I made my way through the field from the far-off position where the rest of the spectators were.

I arrived and fell to Shaun's side where he lay clutching the mangled remains of his arm, he screamed in agony as crimson blood gushed from several areas bone had punctured through his skin. Kyle stood there shellshocked, Shaun's blood slowly racing down his iron-clad form.

I could remember the feeling as I plunged my power into Shaun's body, as I placed my hands on him.

I could feel everything, his hammering heart in his chest, the copious amounts of drugs his brain released in its attempt to manage the situation, I could feel the way his eardrums vibrated as his own screams made their way to them. Then my power attacked the problem, new skin was formed, bone was pulled back into place, and skin was stitched back together scars forming over the wounds and fading away in seconds.

Even a chipped molar at the back of his mouth was healed, good as new. But as I kneeled there, there was something else, something foreign. A tight mass of power. It vibrated with seemingly boundless energy.

It was odd and it wasn't supposed to be there. Before I even knew what was happening my power had bit deep into it, snuffing the mutation out in seconds, eating it, and erasing it like a black hole.

When I raised my hands from him I wasn't quite sure what I had done, but Shaun knew. His eyes were wide, cold fear gripping him as I saw his face warp as he looked for his power, a power that I had just healed away.

He sat up, looking at his hands and then at me, "What did you do to me?"

Before I could respond he swung a fist that surely was supposed to be filled with speed and vigor, but it was practically sluggish in comparison to what he could normally do. I leaned back and rolled away rising to my feet in one fluid motion. Over and over he repeated his word with more and more haste, his quick repetitions seeming to be the only thing that was still fast about him.

From there on it was all over for me, I was expelled from the academy, and so was Shaun, though the way they let him go couldn't have been harsher than mine was. I was blacklisted, unable to attend, hell, even apply for any other super program. One of the tech supers must have put some kind of hex on me or something because every time I would try and apply, the device I was on would shut down for thirty minutes.

Rumors were spread, and stories were told. I even tried to apply for a normal doctor's job. Usually, supers with healing abilities don't have to go through the riggers of college if they're powerful enough, but someone in a high place wasn't having it. I found out later on that Shaun's uncle was the owner of a large pharmaceutical company, and he didn't quite like how I took away what was assuredly a bright career for his favorite nephew.

~~~

I could feel my heart rate spiking and my stress levels rising as I reminisced about the life I should have had. With an exertion of will so minute as to not be noticeable, I forced my body to calm. I could have rewired my brain to feel apathy when thinking about that memory, the chemicals were there to be commanded, but I needed the flame it brought to fuel my new self.

I sat on a bland couch, in a bland room, that was housed inside a nondescript building. I didn't fidget and I didn't gaze around the room in boredom, in fact, I was quite excited after all, the day's events were a long time in the making.

A few minutes went by and a man walked into the room from one of the two doors that the room had. There was one to my back against the same wall the couch sat against and there was one against the far wall. He came from the latter.

He wore a black suit with no tie, the coat was unbuttoned showing the white shirt underneath.

"Purity," the man said with a smile. "it's always good to see you."

"Likewise Ronan," I said, my mask distorting my voice. Rising from my seat I extended my hand.

Ronan paused for a second, just for a second. I was used to it, every Super that knew who I was, did it when I came too close or offered a hand to shake. Even Ronan who I had worked with for years had an almost uncontrollable reaction to what I could do. Though he was quick to hide his reaction, he took my hand and shook it strongly and added a few extra seconds to the greeting, as if to apologize for his reaction.

I smiled behind my full face mask, it was good to know even one of the city's kingpins was still afraid of me.

He let my hand go and took a step back, just out of reach, and said, "He's right in the back. Took out a few of my men but it was worth it for one of my best..." he paused, looking for the word, he and I weren't friends, there were no friends in this business. Getting buddy-buddy with another criminal was a good way to get dead.

"Associates," I said helping him along.

"Yes, yes, associates," he said with a tight smile. "He's right this way." He said gesturing to the door he had just come from.

We moved together through the door.

"Who would have guessed that Blaze was Anthony Richards? You would think that a guy that runs one of the world's biggest pharmaceutical companies would have enough on his plate, but to also be one of the highest-ranking Capes is something else, no wonder he doesn't have a family of his own, there's no way he has time to casually socialize with other people. How'd you find out his identity anyway?"

"A lot of research and effort." I lied, in actuality, it was all luck that I had found out. After I had spent a few years wallowing in self-pity I had decided to take life by the horns and at least look into why I couldn't at least get a job at a hospital and not even as a janitor at that. It wasn't hard to figure out why that was when I found out who Shaun was related to, but that discovery did something to me, in all actuality it was why I was on the road that I was on. It catalyzed the wounded self-pitying part of me into something cold and hard. So I took action. With my brief stint at the academy, I took the little knowledge that I had accumulated and put it to use. I offered my services to wealthy folks, door to door I offered to be on call if their precious house pets were injured or sick. I passed myself off as a weak healer only able to heal small animals and the like, so as to not pull attention to myself as a strong healer going around fixing the wealthy, less financially fortunate people wouldn't work because the type of cash I needed they couldn't afford.

After about a year of this, I had everything in place.

I hired some thugs, they were more mercenaries than actual thugs, I actually needed some competent muscle for the job. They were ex-special forces, guys who needed money more than they did their moral compass - I would have sprung for Supers but they were out of my price range and I needed the extra money for other things. I got the gear, and vehicles, and even rented a small warehouse from a guy that was a little more than just shady, and when everything was done, I was baffled by how much people would actually spend on their pets.

When the night finally came I was in for the shock of my life, the guys moved in smoothly, operators of the highest standard. I watched from the van as they moved into Anthony's mansion guns ready. There were a few moments of silence, as the anticipation built.

Then it went to hell, almost literally. The first sign things were going tits up was when one of the mercs screamed over his headset that the target was a Super, then his mic cut out and went to static. Then I saw the bloom of fire, but not just any fire, neon green flames blew out a floor-to-ceiling window as another one of my mercs was sent to his death, engulfed in flames.

Once I saw that I realized that my year of prep was a waste and that I had made a huge mistake. There was only one super that had green flames, one level 9 rank pyromancer. I had just kicked down the door of Blaze, the city's highest-ranking Pyro.

As I sat there in the car stunned I thought about just driving away and leaving the mercs for dead but then I heard something over the mic,

"WHO SENT YOU HERE?"

I hopped from the car, using my power to stomp down the fear that was forcing my palms to sweat and my blood to thump in my ears. Snatching the emergency fire extinguisher from the back of the van and two of the grenades the mercs had left behind - I was very prepared with my planning - I ran for the entrance.

Upon my arrival, I saw five of my hired guns burned to a crisp laying on the floor barely getting more than ten feet into the house. The last guy, number six was held aloft, a thick-fingered hand wrapped around his throat in a death grip and the owner of said hand with green fire - just like his name implied - blazing in his eyes.

"WHO SENT YOU?" He asked again seemingly not realizing that the goon was quickly being asphyxiated from his grip, not to mention the quickly decreasing lack of air in the room from the fire. Hell, even I could see that under the ski mask, the guy's skin was turning a deep blue.

Blaze must have realized though because he dropped the man to his knees, who landed coughing and hacking rubbing at his throat. Then he leaned down and said in a snarl.

"Tell me who hired you or so help me God I'll melt your eyes out of their sockets and have a Reader come here and dig through that empty head of yours until I get what I want!"

I didn't have time to see if my money was good enough for the guy to hold his tongue, especially with the carnage in front of me, I was sure that Blaze wasn't lying, so I started my plan. I jammed one grenade between the release lever and the handle of the fire extinguisher and pull the pin of the grenade, and heaved it toward the two.

It took Blaze a split second to see the grenade wedged in the extinguisher and he reacted instantly, he pushed himself away on a jet of green flame from my jerry-rigged devise.

But it was still too late, the grenade exploded, shrapnel tearing apart the extinguisher sending its contents around the room and pushing Blaze and the merc in opposite directions.

Not trying to leave any loose ends, I found the mercenaries body slumped against one wall, so I pulled the pin on the other grenade and tossed it in his direction.

As it flew through the air, I could hear Blaze hacking up a lung on the other side of the room as he breathed in the contents of the extinguisher and saw flickers of green flame through the dust, it was silly to think the extinguisher was going to stop him - he was a level 9 after all - but the brief surprise had stunned him. So as the grenade went off, undoubtedly leaving my hired gun in giblets, I turned tale and ran back to the car, with new information in mind and a new plan already being pulled together.

~~~

We walked down a long hallway and down a flight of stairs. I could feel the temperature rising as we approached.

"Are you going to be okay going in there alone?" Ronin asked, sweat starting to bead on his forehead from the heat.

I looked at him from behind my featureless mask, "You've seen what I can do, and you know my suit is tough, you're the one that connected me with The Tailor after all. I'll be fine."

I looked down at my suit, it was a grey-white design, thick but malleable flame, and heat retardant material - that I couldn't get The Tailor to admit what it was - wrapped my body from head to toe, the only parts of me that weren't covered were my hands.

Heavy plating sat atop the material wrapping around my chest, legs, and arms. My utility belt sat around my waist, nice gadgets, and fun toys that were built by one of my guys sitting snugly in their housings. My bulletproof mask encased my head, it had a glossy white almost mirrored finish to it. To complete my get up I had a large red cross that spread across my chest, the top reaching below my collarbone and the bottom just below my belly button, and the arms across my pecks.

I’d had a cape at one point, I that find it quite funny considering the irony of who I now was, but scrapped the idea. After the Blaze incident, my first real run-in with a Cape - Captain Crimson - almost ended with me strangling to death as he wrapped my cape around my neck, and pulled like his life depended on it - which it did - I only survived because I got a finger through the eye hole in his mask and killed his power, after that he was quick to follow.

"Yeah you're probably right, heroes and villains alike don't fear you for no reason I guess." Ronin said with an awkward chuckle.

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"Do I scare you Ronin?" I asked with a smile in my voice. I looked at him from behind my mask, sweat seeming to fall faster now, even considering the heat.

"Uhhh," he said dumbly, "looks like we're here."

We stood at the end of a hallway, a dim lightbulb the only source of light in the corridor. A heavy metal door stood in front of us a door locking wheel fixed in the center like it was ripped right out of a submarine.

To my left fixed into the wall was a red button, "Seems like the big guy is pretty fired up, why don't we cool him down." I pressed the button. I could hear the wearing of machinery and if Ronin had gotten my instructions right, at that moment, all the oxygen was being sucked out of the room, and a gaseous cooling agent was being pumped in, snuffing the fire out of Blaze. I let it run for a few seconds as I watched the temperature gauge affixed to the door start to go down. He couldn’t breathe the cooling agent, so I had to kinda spitball how long to let it run, or he would suffocate.

"That seems to be enough, you did good, Ronin," I said patting him on the shoulder, not missing the flinch he had at my touch.

"Time to make my entrance." I walked to the door grabbing ahold of the still-hot metal - apparently, it didn’t run long enough - instantly healing my wounds as they were formed and ignoring the sizzle of my skin. A moment later I was closing the door behind me.

The thought that Ronin would hit the button again to kill both of us was an idea that I'd had. That's why I had made some extra specifications for the contractor that Ronin had put on the job.

If the button was hit twice in a short amount of time or if the sensors detected that I was in the room when the button was pressed then the door would open and Ronin would have to explain to me what exactly he was trying to do, it was good to have multiple people on that payroll for this kind of thing.

In front of me was a man in his mid-sixties, built like a brick wall, muscles on top of muscles, he had a full head of grey hair and wrinkles pulled at his face, age chipping away at the powerful Super.

He wore boxer shorts and a wife beater. I had specified that Ronin sent his men to capture him when he was asleep, from my years of research I knew that Blaze liked to sleep light, and capturing him in his suit was just a bad idea outright, it was on the same level as mine, if not stronger.

He was on his knees taking in heaving breaths of air, he seemed not to like having the air ripped from his lungs, who woulda thought?

When he heard my footsteps approaching, his head snapped in my direction, and for a man of his age he got to his feet quite quickly, it seemed that that cape training regiment worked wonders.

"Purity," he said, flatly, no fear, no surprise, just a statement. I was happy with his reaction, he was the best cape this city had to offer, it would have killed the buzz I was currently on if he started groveling instantly.

"Hello Blaze, how do you like your new environment? Are the reinforced brick walls to your liking? I know that you like to live sparsely so I didn't have the guys put anything in here with you, after all, it would just be burnt to a crisp anyway." I couldn't help but have a smug tone as I spoke to the aging Cape, I'd waited for this moment for so long and it was finally here.

In response Blaze just stared at me, a tapestry of anger smeared across his face.

"What's with the scowl Blaze? Did you actually want a little something extra, maybe a futon, or a beanbag chair maybe?"

I watched his eyes scan the room, those tactics classes the Hero Program put him through being put to use. It didn't matter though, I knew what he was thinking.

While my stint in the program was short-lived, I had made it a requirement to recruit many other people that’d had longer runs in the Hero Program, many of them ex-cons. And you would never guess, almost all of them had a bone to pick with the program that had dropped them like worthless gutter trash.

"Looking for an escape plan Blaze? You can only open the door from the outside and this room has reinforced bricks so you can't burn through them, a special design by one of my guys, a brilliant Neuron goes by the name of Craftsman, did you know he was actually in year three of the super program when they dropped him? All because of a little explosion."

That finally got me a response, "That 'little' explosion killed three students and two teachers. The bastard didn't even show any emotion when he was on trial. All he said was, 'you've gotta do some-"

"’-damage on the road to greatness.’" I said, finishing the quote "And he was right, he's one of my best guys, you'll find it's no shock that someone has loyalty when you break them out of prison when they are serving three life sentences. That neat little vacuum trick, his design."

Blaze's eyes scanned me, sizing me up, it was more analytical than a normal person though, it was combat classes at work, taking my height, build, and powers into mind I could see the cogs of his brain turn smoothly behind his eyes. I could see what he was thinking, he was a pyromancer after all, so he was a natural hothead.

"You really wanna go hand to hand Blaze, you know who I am, that's not very smart." The only reaction I got for having read him perfectly was an almost imperceptible twitch of an eyebrow, that was years of experience for you.

"It isn't, there has only ever been one other person like you and he was kicked out of the hero program and got himself killed in a failed mugging attempt, guess he couldn't heal that." He said with a chuckle. Seems he was still a bit touchy about his nephew that I had gimped.

I had in fact faked my own death though, it wasn't hard. I had no family to go back to, the perks of being an orphan I guess, and it wouldn't have been hard for an observant cape to figure out who I was if they did enough digging, so I decided to commit a quick act of pseudocide. A couple of lined pockets, getting a couple of people to lie, a cadaver that had my general build, and a few threats or broken bones for those with a substantial moral compass, and it all fell together nicely.

"And while it may not be very smart, I know that you can't 'heal' people with fabric in the way, hence the no gloves," he said as he ripped a piece of his wifebeater off and started wrapping it around his hands making pseudo hand wraps.

"I also know that it isn't instant, you have to hold on for a few seconds, so I'm not really worried. I'll only need a few seconds to crack that helmet of yours and beat you to a bloody pulp." He cracked his knuckles and joints, rolling his neck as gouts of green flames rose from his arms. They traveled over his fists and covered his hand wraps, the fabric didn't even blacken from the flames, that was a level 9 for you, so much control.

He took a typical boxer's stance, orthodox style, left hand leading right hand ready, feet shoulder-width apart as he started to bob warming up, quite literally actually.

I smirked behind my mask, the display was actually quite impressive. He was a few inches shorter than me and a couple of decades older but I could still understand why he was one of the best, the presence that he let off was domineering. I calmed my mind and got into my own fighting stance, southpaw, but my hands were loosely open, ready to grab, but also able to quickly snap into a fist if needed.

I took a step forward, and like I had seen him do in thousands of hero vids, he opened by jetting himself forward on a gout of flame, a green streak crossing the fifteen-by-fifteen room in an instant.

I sidestepped as he shot past, the heat radiating off of him cooking the inside of my suit, the internal cooling kicked in normalizing the temperature, The Tailor and Craftsman's work paying off.

He recovered quickly, turning on a dime as jets of flame shot out of his feet pointing him in my direction. He was among the only non-fliers to be able to fly so seamlessly. Pushing off the wall he launched himself at me again, left arm pulled back for a heavy haymaker, as he came close I flooded my brain with adrenaline and time seemed to slow. I pivoted, jerking my body on one foot, and brought my hand up with an open palm, I caught him around the face. The force made my pinky and ring finger break and muscles in my back, shoulder, and arm tear. In an instant, I healed them and drove the back of his head into the ground.

Over the years of my preparation, I had gone to great lengths to strengthen my body for this fight. I’d had my bones broken repeatedly, healing them again and again and making them stronger - apparently not enough though for my pinky and ring finger. I had shredded my muscles in the gym healing them faster and making gains so quickly that you would think I was on steroids. I'd realized quickly that my ability to heal had so much more diversity than just patching up wounds.

Blaze hit the ground stunned, I drove my power into him searching for his, I weaved my power around the concussion I had caused looking for his flames. It didn't take long for me to find it, it was like a sun. Blaze was right that it took me a few seconds to find most powers, but the problem with being as powerful as he was, was that his power had nowhere to hide in that ethereal place where our abilities stay.

My tendrils latched themselves to his power starting the process. As I did though, I felt the flesh of my hands singe and crackle from the heat, blazes eyes peered up at me, burning with hate, a fist came up and smashed into my helm, a gout of flame right on its heels.

I was thrown across the room by the torrent, the cooling system in my suit was fried as it tried to combat the onslaught of heat blaze was sending my way. My exposed hands were burned to the bone as I forced my power to heal them.

"You thought this was going to be easy boy. Do you not know who I am? I am Blaze. All your planning, gone to waste, I'll cook you like an ant under a magnifying glass." He monologued.

I rolled onto my hands and knees and then into a ball placing my blackened skeletal hand to my chest healing it quickly now that it was out of the onslaught of fire.

I reached down to my utility belt and pulled away a grenade, my other hand was still scorched, so I held it by the pin and flicked it towards Blaze, the pin came free and the grenade tumbled towards the man on fire.

An explosion of white powder cut off the flames and I got up, extinguisher grenades were a marvel, the same concept I had used years ago, but this time much more powerful.

Blaze hacked as he was covered by the smothering substance. I healed my wounds quickly as I strode towards him.

"No Blaze, in fact, I didn't think this was gonna be easy, but where would be the fun in that if it was?"

Still bent over coughing, I brought a savage kick up to meet his nose. The satisfying crunch was a beautiful melody.

Blaze tumbled back, and I advanced.

I brought a wicked left hand around and smashed it into the side of his head sending him reeling, he made a shoddy attempt at gaining his form back, bringing his arms up to defend, his hands rising to his head as I faked a punch, I hit him with a brutal body shot, he wheezed as the hit connected.

"Y'know what? Maybe this will actually be easy. Or are you just getting old Blaze? Because I remember you being able to do much better than this. How about I help you out?"

I reached a hand forward, batting away his attempt to throw a wild overhand, the body shot and other blows stunning him too much for him to put any flame behind it. Grabbing onto the arm and wrenching it back my power plunged into him once more, I found the injuries I had inflicted and one by one healed them.

I found the ravages of time, the wrinkles, the aching bones, and the dementia that would have taken him in a few years and I snuffed them out.

Blaze's eyes widened as I pushed him back, his smokey grey hair was gone, replaced with a charcoal black, and the wrinkles around his eyes were now fresh skin. He was practically a new man.

"What did you do?" He asked his mind not letting him believe what I'd done.

"I made the fight more interesting."

"Why? Why a path of cruelty and evil, your power could be used to help people, heal people."

"That's the funny thing Blaze," I reached up to my helmet as I spoke, "that's exactly what I wanted to do."

My mask came off with a hiss, and instantly recognition filled his eyes.

"You? But you're-"

"Dead? Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated." I said with a wicked smile.

I watched him as the dots came together about why I did what I did, and maybe how was his decision to blacklist me had trickle effects that led to this moment. His expression at that moment was half of what this whole thing was all about, it was simply glorious. Now I just had to get the second half.

I rushed forward, forcing the old now young man to react. His hands came up in defense and with them a blast of flame, it didn't matter, I shut off my pain receptors and dove through the fire. Skin peeled back and was burned away in flakes, instantly being healed as I moved forward.

My fist burst through the flame, an overhand left, I caught him in the side of the head and he spun off to the side. But he recovered almost instantly. As I advanced, a spinning back fist caught my chin and a blast of flame covered my face, my vision went black for a second as I simultaneously went blind and lost consciousness mid-stride from the hit.

I regained consciousness and healed my eyes having just enough time to catch myself on my hands and knees and catching a wild kick to my padded midsection, which still hurt, and as predicted a blast of fire came as a chaser.

My back hit the ceiling, colliding with the casing for the lights that stopped them from being destroyed by Blaze's fire.

"You'll find that healing me was the worst mistake you've ever made." He said walking over to me as I pushed myself up.

"We'll see Blaze, we'll see." I grunted.

A soccer kick screamed up to my head as I was still pushing myself up, but the amount of adrenaline that I pushed into my body made it move like it was pushing through molasses. I shot to my feet, the movement was so rapid that the muscle’s in my legs tore, but Blaze's foot was still halfway to my face.

I watched as his eyes moved slowly trying to track my movements, my fist connected with his side like a viper striking prey, a perfect liver shot.

I watched with a cold detachment as his face scrunched from the pain, Blaze was in good shape even before I had de-aged him and he was in better shape now. But he could train all he wanted, you could add all the muscle you could, but unless you were a Tank, there was no strengthening internal organs.

I watched his legs buckle, he seemed to fall to his knees slowly like a feather, and as he did my roundhouse kick was already cutting through the air. My armored shin connected to the side of his head like the last puzzle piece, falling into place.

Blaze's head snapped to the side and he fell into a heap.

"I guess it wasn't that big of a mistake." I said to my unconscious adversary.

I knelt by his head and put my hands on the sides of his face. One last time my power slipped into his body.

Moving my power around the injuries I had caused, I healed none of it but the blood that was pooling in his brain, I couldn't let him die just yet. I found his power quicker this time.

My cold tendrils greedily latched on and started to consume his power. His eyes shot open, and just like I had done to him, his hands clamped down on the sides of my head, A river of fire consumed me, the skin from my face was eaten by the flames then my muscle was peeled away, all the while my power went to work chipping away at the gargantuan power that the man had. I ate heartily as Blaze cooked the flesh from my bones, I spared only a fraction of my attention to keep myself from being consumed completely by the flames.

Blaze screamed as he felt his power being ripped away from him, in the years I had done this to hundreds of Supers, most of them screamed, it wasn't out of pain, I could tell, it was out of primal terror at having a piece of them be cut off, taken away and ripped from their very souls.

He screamed his throat ragged until it was a hoarse croak, I healed his throat and he started screaming all over again.

It usually took me a few seconds to take a power, to heal it away, but Blaze was the most powerful super that I had done this to. His power was like an endless ocean that mine kept drinking away, I healed myself for minutes on end as Blaze uselessly tried to kill me, but while he was a 9, I was a 10.

Finally, the torrent of fire came to an end, and my gluttonous power drank its fill. Blaze kept his hands on my head. The skin and muscle of my face burned away leaving just a skull with the eyes that I had made sure to keep intact so that I could watch the emotions wash across his face.

My muscle started to heal, my power actually sluggish for the first time from the prolonged use.

"I guess there's no more Blaze, only Anthony Richards remains, but it's not all bad, you and your nephew now have something you can relate to each other with." My voice went from a horse rasp to normal as my throat healed from my burns.

I rose to my feet leaving Anthony shaking in disbelief on the floor.

He stretched his hands out to me, no doubt trying to reach for his power that wasn't there to inflict more flames on my skin, but nothing came.

Tears in his eyes he screamed, "I’LL KILL YOU!"

"Doubtful," I said over my shoulder as I picked up my helm.

"I- I- I'll tell everyone who you are. I'm still one of the richest men in the world, I'll ruin your life once I expose who you are."

"You did that a long time ago Anthony." I slid my helmet on, the heat inside was still sweltering so I just turned off my pain receptors.

"I'll" he began but I cut him off.

"You'll do nothing Anthony," I walked over to him, sliding my knife from my belt and pushing it through his throat in one smooth motion. I twisted the blade and slide it side to side, and pulled it free. A river of blood splashed across my suit. He tried to put his hands to his throat but I batted them aside and put my own there, healing him.

"There, that's better, I healed everything but your vocal cords, no more talking out of you Anthony."

He put a hand to his throat and let out a raspy whisper, he sounded like smoke on the wind.

"After all, I can't have you saying too much to your new friends."

I turned on my heels and headed for the door. Just to the lower right of the door I pulled a brick free and pushed a button, the door swung open easily on its hinges. Even though I was decently sure Ronin wouldn’t have tried to lock me in, it would have been stupid to not have another exit for myself.

Behind the door stood Ronin and his men, Blaze had put many of them behind bars and had killed more, they had about as much a bone to pick with him as I did.

I walked out of the door as they rushed inside, utensils of pain clutched in their hands.

I pat Ronin on the shoulder who flinched under my touch, "He's all yours. I'll see you later Ronin."

As I walked past Ronin I couldn't help but notice the look of fear on his face as he gazed upon the once proud hero who sat weeping silently on the floor. And as Ronin looked over to me, eyes filled with fear,

I got my answer.

I began walking down the hallway, humming a tune.