He looked out of the window, blades of the helicopter just visable in the opening. They seemed... faster, louder, somehow, than when he had been dropped here just a few hours ago. He found it odd that, after such an event that everything should seem... so much more real to him. So much more here instead of there. He wondered why he couldn't think. His thinking had always been the one thing that he felt he could always have faith in, the one thing that he could always rely on. He sighed softly to himself. He had... certain other talents, now, that he could take advantage of.
But San Francisco. He had destroyed San Francisco. Obliterated it. Gone. Poof. Bye-bye.
It was an evil act, and he knew that. He knew that he would be grouped into the same category as madmen, as men like the Joker, or the Reverse-Flash. The villains, running crazy and wild, motivated only by themselves, their own selfish goals. He sighed again. He knew that now, after this somewhat gaudy display, the heroes would be after him.
None of them could stop him. He had taken certain... precautions. Kryptonite. Magic. Skill and genius. Contingency upon contingency for every imaginable scenario. There was nothing that they could do to win.
The terrorist known only as the Emperor looked out on the ruined wasteland of San Francisco. The fun was only just starting.