Winston Deavor, the man who had it all, was never without his signature smile and an unbridled sense of optimism. That is, until he realized the impact the death of his and his sister Evelyn's parents had upon them both. He mever dreamed his sister, a genius in technological innovations and the only one who stahed by his side when the sadness began to get to him, would be the one behind the despicable attempt to make supers forever outlawed.

With the last known member of his family gone, he felt hopeless, for he had no reason to keep pursuing his business opportunities. Evelyn was the lead designer and, without her, his advertising charm felt meaningless, for there were no products to promote.

Months passed, the lawsuit between his company and the Parrs was quickly settled with Winston voluntarily adding a bit extra to their requested restitutions as proof of his apologies. He sold his company out of a lack of motivation, for he had no technological expertise.

With insufficient funding left to maintain the costs of his many multi million dollar houses, he retired, sold many of his properties, but left the loaner mansion that the Parrs had occupied to them with enough to cover the costs of living and utilities for the rest of their lives.

He retreated from the limelight and the press, no longer eager to step into the world of business again. He let his business and his dependence on Evelyn blind him to the fact that she wasn't well. He felt responsible for the chaos and near tragedy that befell the city he called home.

He would often experience nightmares of his family's past, his sister receiving praise for her new and usefull inventions while he was unseen and unwanted. He couldn't measure up to her talent, even then.

After nearly three years of isolation, he was trying to enjoy a cup of cofee on the balcony of his apartment. After glumly looking at his reflection in his cup, he went to the railing, the only thing keeping him between the concrete below and the balcony, and was ready to jump, when a small drone appeared from practically nowhere and zipped to and fro around his head.

Annoyed, Winston began swatting aimlessly. "Blast this stupid-"

He soon found his vision faltering along with his train of thought. The drone latched itself in the center of his forehead and was working its way into his thoughts, almost like a drug.

A voice whispered in his mind, "There's still hope for redemption. Let my words take hold."

Desperate for answers, he almost drunkenly replied, "I... I... will let... you take... hold..." Nearly numb all around, he fell to his knees and a twisted smile worked its way across his mouth, turning his expression to one of sinister evil.

"Now then. They defeated me once, but I'll take them down. Now, where to begin... The baby perhaps?"