The night air was cool along the brightly lit streets, enjoyed by citizens and commuters alike. Above a slim awning high on the skyscraper, the wind tugged and swirled with heat. A familiar dread to the criminals who trembled in fear whenever the night grew warm.

A demon’s mask, a black snarling rictus cut from the shadows that concealed its wearer, faced out over the city. It’s gaze was unseeing, eyes sealed in dark metal. But the wind moved, shaping around buildings and tussling the human forms below. Humans that walked and laughed and glowed with their own inner heat.

“I am busy.” A deep voice broke from the mask in a hiss of smog. Something like a stuttering thunderclap answered him.

“…can’t spare a few minutes to talk?” A man, floating hunched in the air, smothered his cough with a wheeze that shook the air.

“The pharmacy clerk not enough for you?” the darker figure answered. He flexed, billowing the loose cape that concealed his body, mottled in grays and blues as dark as stone in the night.

“It’s 3 a.m.,” the other replied, uncurling to reveal a strange golden symbol upon the dark blue of his chest. Unlike his companion, he wore no mask, revealing a square jaw and pallid skin framed by short, un-styled black hair.

“So?” Standing straight, the demon-mask took a step off the tower. He cut a black streak through the air, cape curled tight around his shoulders, all but grazing the side of the skyscraper.

The floating man kept pace, the wind slipping easily past a stream-lined uniform: pants tightened at waist and ankle, a vest-like shirt that bared his arms and disappeared beyond a simple belt.

The dark cape snapped open without preamble, and a thermal rose to greet the unfurled glider just as suddenly. A fall of fifteen stories ended in a near silent step on flat stone roof.

“Normal people are asleep by now,” his sickly company replied, feet finally landed.

“One more reason not to bring normal people into our lives.” The demon-mask walked with purpose toward the other end of the roof.

“That reminds me, the reason I stopped by was to let you know Damnsel sponsored a few new heroes.”

“I wasn’t aware she was training anyone.” He sounded suspicious.

“Oh, she just found them a couple towns over.”

The masked hero allowed himself a sigh, a gust of smoke, but did not stop his progress toward a darkened skylight. Then he jumped on it. Glass shattered and screaming leaked into the night.

“Shit, it’s Brand! Fire, fire!” The thunder of automatic weapons drowned out the whole world, except a rumbling snort from the remaining hero.

Back arched, he reached into the barely visible pocket lining in his pants leg and withdrew a transparent sheet. A wet hack stained it a translucent green, before the sheet burst in flame with a sizzling pop. The hero took a few experimental breaths as the potential genetic sample was burned safely to nothingness, the sound lost to anyone else in the rattle of flying bullets and aborted screams.

“I guess I’m feeling pretty good tonight,” he decided. He took another, deeper breath, filling out his already impressive chest. The pallor of his skin suddenly faded, assuming something like a healthy flush. He hopped through the broken ceiling pane.

“Is that the fucking Defender? I signed up to ship cocaine, not alien invaders or some shit!” The gunfire didn’t last much longer after that.