The squad moved silently through the dark alleys, bristling with weaponry… there were only fifteen men present in this particular squad, and led by a somewhat low-level Adjustant… this mission, despite its technical importance, had received very little initial support by the Council's hierarchy.

Most of these men had some experience in combat, but their levels were quite low… they had been promised some better reinforcements within the hour; their mission right now was to take the building and hold it until help arrived.

Pausing at the main entrance, looking around the deserted street, the Adjustant reached over and opened the door slowly, peeking inside. A moment later, he gestured forward and entered, his squad following just behind.

------

Ugh…

"Now then, the BioTech Institution has been experimenting with a new cold fusion drive… we hope that the power this would produce could be used to relieve much of the energy burdens that the inter-sector forcefields that make up the Warwalls consume…"

As this droning voice continued, echoing off the walls of the brightly lit laboratory, half of the listeners looked as if they would fall asleep from the sheer boredom of the speech. How could revolutionary technology sound so dull, for heaven's sakes?

One of the students, however, did not share the lack of interest his schoolmates possessed. Tall and well-muscled, his green eyes and dark hair made him look rather intense, as if he would be picking a fight with everything and everyone. Despite this, his manner was quiet and respectful…

After all, he had the Freakshow to pick fights with almost every day.

Raziel Zonoran, who went by the alias of Comet Fist, was a rather well-known hero, with a security level of 30. Not famous, per say, but many had heard of him, even if they all had their own opinions of his tactics. Strong, fast and agile, he was a natural for charging into a room, obliterating everyone inside, then charging out in search of another room.

Yes, this sounded oddly like Tanker behaviour, but Raziel was in fact under the classification Scrapper. Standing at around six foot two, the heavily muscled youth, was at the surprisingly young age of nineteen eyes…

He currently wore a white T-shirt, black boots, a brown belt and jeans, standard civilian attire. He wished he could have worn his costume underneath, but the chances of getting discovered then would have been too great; shirts had a nasty habit of getting see-through in the rain, and his red, lightly armoured suit would have been noticed quite easily…

Despite his fascination with the world of science, neither that nor any sort of devices made Raziel as proficient a hero as he was. Mostly it came from simple training; he was a skilled martial artist, and that alone made him a threat.

But still, there was something… not quite human about Raziel.

It was hard to explain precisely what, but he just seemed be capable of things, feats of strength and quickness that no human possessed. He had been to doctors, and had been told that no, he was not a mutant… still, something gave him incredible strength, durable skin…

And Darkness.

From what records on other heroes and villains with similar powers that Raziel had read up on, he had learned that he was somehow capable of channelling the deepest, darkest energies of the Underworld. He had a variety of uses for these powers; from the ability to use a shroud of dark energies to protect himself from harm, to the ability to cause an aura of darkness that could strangle the life from his foes…

Over the years his powers had done nothing but develop; when he had first discovered of them, he had been a little stronger than a human, a little faster, and able to cause some mild nausea in his foes with the darkness. Nothing to really snort about.

But then, with time and victories, he had seemed to evolve… with time he could teleport himself, then leap hundreds of yards in a single bound… flight had followed…

His newest ability, the power to move with superhuman speeds, had been inadvertently triggered last week when a Controller he had been working with, one who was capable of enhancing various natural human traits, had given him a considerable speed enhancement. The effect of that gift had solidified, then intensified, until Raziel was able to travel great distances in seconds…

He was still having a lot of fun with that power.

It had certainly come in handy when he had woken up late, with only ten minutes to cover the mile between his apartment and the laboratory where this field trip was being conducted. Though he had not been wearing his costume during that run, he had been moving more than fast enough to keep anyone from identifying him… before Superspeed, he would never have dared using his powers outside of costume, not even in private.

The spokesperson for this trip, who looked just as bored with his own speech as the rest of the classmates did, began to walk towards a computer terminal. A swift sequence and a series of blueprints popped up.

"This reactor is currently under construction in a confidential location… I am not at liberty to discuss where, but once it is complete we shall use the power source- about a kilo of a rare Tetrinite ore- to test the power source. Furthermore…"

A faint crash interrupted his monologue, causing the heads of everyone in the large room to swivel in the direction it had come from; a corridor that they had come in. It led to the main entrance of the building.

Everyone was silent for a moment, awaiting to see if the noise would make an encore. No such luck. The spokesperson looked at the group, then said hesitantly; "I'll be right back…"

Raziel watched the man walk out of the room, turning a corner a moment later. Everyone was silent as they awaited some signal that all was well. Raziel, whom hero work had made a bit paranoid, was just waiting for a signal that something was wrong.

That signal was given with the sudden rattle of automatic fire.

Almost as if on cue, everyone hit the dirt. Anyone who lived in Paragon knew that was the best thing to do when you heard a gun. Raziel hesitated for a moment, wanting nothing more than to go out there and beat the tar out of whoever had the gun…

But no, he had no idea whether there would be hostages in danger…

Just as Raziel had finished lying down on his gut with everyone else, he saw half a dozen figures, dressed head to toe in black, round the corner. They held a variety of dangerous looking weapons, but the lean cut muscles under their garbs made them look quite deadly on their own.

Immediately recognition spread across the face of every student.

The Council.

Raziel had fought them only once or twice as Comet Fist, mostly skirmishes on the streets. Their weapons were deadly, from the pulse rifles the Marksmen carried, to the flamethrowers wielded by the Fires, to the automatic weapons the Assault called their own. But the soldiers were just as dangerous, altered by supersoldier enhancements that made them very strong, fast, and tough.

"Attention!" The lead Council, one of the lieutenant rank known as Adjustants, called out as he strode into the room, his tone clipped and professional. "This building is hereby occupied by the Council. We have men posted at every exit, so escape would not be suggested. Cooperate, and you will escape with your lives. Attempt escape, and you will die."

His tone was simple, merely a man repeating a speech he had uttered dozens of different times in dozens of different places. His tone also made it clear that he would make good on the threat…

Silence greeted his statement, but that seemed to be answer enough for the six soldiers. The Adjustant turned to an Assault and gestured to the computer terminal. "Begin a download of the database, and find some blueprints on this building. I want the location of the Tetrinite immediately."

"Yessir," The Assault replied smartly and strode over to the console, tapping in rapid sequences as data scrolled on the screen.

"Now then, we will require four volunteers… there is a likely chance that either the authorities or one of the self-proclaimed superheroes will attempt to thwart this operation… should they attempt that, I assure you we will cut our losses, and make sure that no one is here to tell a tale…

"However, I am certain that a single hostage at each entrance should dissuade any opposition from attempting to breech these walls. Any who volunteer will be the first to be released once this task is finished, I assure you…"

More silence met the statement, and it was with a sigh that the Adjustant began to do the oddest of things; eenie meeney miney moe.

One by one people were selected, until soon three were being carted away, led down different corridors towards the entrances. Raziel watched as the Adjustant's hand began its final choice. Eenie Meenie Miney Moe, Catch A Tiger By The Toe, If He Hollers Let Him Go…

Eenie Meenie Miney Moe.

"You. Get up."

For a moment Raziel thought it couldn't be possible; his luck couldn't be this good… but sure enough, a moment later one of the remaining Council, a Marksman, walked forward and roughly lifted Raziel to his feet.

'M-me?" Raziel asked, the stutter genuine, though from surprise instead of fear. How could it be that simple? And only one guard? Maybe this was all some pleasant dream…

The only response was a sharp jab to the spine by the barrel of the pulse rifle. He supposed it was meant to hurt, but considering he had been shot, blown up, knocked off rooftops, frozen, bound by dark energies, attacked by psychic assaults, punched by eight foot tall robots, kicked by massive stone monsters, bit by some really vile creatures, slashed, headbutted, knocked through walls (all this only in the last month) that jab hardly registered at all.

He was a good obedient little hostage as he was carted away, waiting with tensed muscles as he and his 'escort' rounded the corner, soon vanishing from sight of the Adjustant. Even then Raziel waited for just a few more seconds, until they were walking down a long, empty stretch of corridor…

Swiftly, he spun around on his heels, grabbing the barrel of the pulse rifle and yanking it away. The Marksman pulled the trigger but the blast of energy smashed harmlessly into the corridor wall, leaving a small crater. Before he could try and aim for a second shot, Raziel elbow slammed into the bridge of his nose.

Supersoldier or no, the man was out like a light.

Raziel took a deep breath to calm himself, going over his options. Truth be told, there were not many. It would be nearly impossible to take out the men in this building and preserve his identity at the same time; he had manners when he was Comet Fist to subtly alter his appearance, but he wanted no possible connection between him and his alter-ego… still, by his estimations, a hero with a security level of fifteen wouldn't have that much trouble taking these guys out…

But how to maintain secrecy?

Then, slowly, he turned to look at the unconscious rifleman. He was starting to get an idea…

---------

"Damn this leather!" The irate hero muttered, scratching at his side for what seemed like the millionth time. Ugh, he wished that someone would shoot him, he really did… if it wasn't for the whole saving the world crap, he would just take his rifle and turn it on himself. Then again, only the world being in danger would get him into this ridiculous uniform in the first place.

Marching down the corridor, he was dressed in every damned scrap of clothing the stupid soldier possessed, which made him feel like a furnace… why the hell did the Council HAVE to wear black? Maybe they knew the possibility of uniforms being stolen and wanted to make any heroes that did so as uncomfortable as possible.

"C'mon, if they get the reactor technology, they could very well make a bomb with it…" He muttered, trying to convince himself that, yes, this was indeed absolutely necessary…

"The things I do for my city…" He grumbled, then nearly jumped out of his skin when the door in front of him opened. A combination of nerves, grumpiness, and slight absentmindedness made him completely forget he was disguised as a soldier exited the aforementioned door.

"Hey, see anyo-?" The soldier's question was cut off as a roundhouse kick neatly slammed into his jaw, sending him spinning through the air. He was out cold before he hit the ground.

"Oops…" Raziel muttered, almost apologizing to the villain he had thrashed. After a moment the impulse passed and he bent down, easily hefting the man over his shoulder. It took only a minute or two to stash him in a supply closet, and take his sidearm into custody…

Raziel at first considered taking both the assault rifle and the pulse rifle… then he realized that it would attract quite a bit of attention… and, since he had no real accuracy with a single-shot weapon…

Literally taking the pulse rifle apart, he stuffed half of the pieces back in the supply closet with the soldier, then took the rest with him, including the power cell. The advantage to this uniform was all the pockets…

"All right, then," Raziel muttered to himself, "Prioritize, prioritize… do I save the hostages first? No, no, I should go after the ore before they get their hands on it… or save the scientists… or maybe… arg, I'll just pick a direction!"

Wheeling around, he stormed off determinately down one of the corridors, his jaw set and his eyes narrowed. He had a job to do, and by God, he was going to do it, itching or no itching…

Ten minutes and three soldiers later, Raziel stumbled upon the vault where the Tritinite ore must have been kept. The door was truly massive, and must have been three feet thick… the polished surface didn't have any kind of big handle to turn, or anything of that sort, but there was a keypad to the right.

Two Council soldiers were flanking a trembling scientist, one that was rapidly tapping a long string of commands into the aforementioned keypad. A third soldier was facing outward, towards the corridor.

"Okay…" Raziel muttered, crouched behind a wall. He quickly glanced around the corner once more, fixing their positions in his mind. "Time for some of those superpowers…"

Meanwhile, the scientist finished entering various commands, stepping back as the safe gave an ominous click and whirr. As the massive door began to swing inwards, all three soldiers turned towards it.

That was when Raziel made his move.

Superspeed kicking in, he raced around the corridor, his foot slamming into the back of the first soldier's head with a loud bang. The momentum sent the soldier hurling down the corridor, slamming into the second one. Both went down like a sack of potatoes, and by the time the third one could even begin to realize that something was wrong, a palm strike caught him under the chin.

Once the bodies had settled, Raziel stretched cheerfully, turning towards the scientist, who was already running forward. He was just opening his mouth to say; "Yes, yes, it was nothing," but he was cut off when the man started beating him over the head with a clipboard!

"Hey! OW!" He yelled, raising his arms to defend himself from the white-coated man, scowling behind his hood. "I'm a good guy, I'm a good guy!"

"Liar!" Thwack, thwack, thwack…

"No, I seriously am! STOP HITTING ME WITH THE DAMNED CLIPBOARD!"

Reaching over, he wrenched the clipboard out of the scientist's hand. In a brave display of courage, the man squeaked and ran off down the corridor, nearly tripping three times before he rounded the corner and went out of sight.

Grumbling, Raziel stomped over to the safe, grabbing the edge of it. Though it would have taken three or four hefty men to close it, he did so without too much difficulty, muscles straining briefly as the giant door swung shut, again with a loud click.

Brushing off his hands, Raziel stretched, shaking his head slightly as he turned back down the corridor, ready to continue raising a ruckus.

-------

"Status report…" Archon Drayax felt quite calm as he entered the building under siege, having entered through the front door. The authorities had not arrived yet, nor had any sort of heroes… the Archon was feeling quite confident that this may actually go off without a hitch.

The Archon was somewhat young by human standards, but he had risen through the ranks with astonishing speed; if he had been a hero, his security clearance would have been at least twenty seven…

Behind him, his personal guard comprising two Adjustants, two Assaults, four Riflemen and two Fires followed behind. The Adjustant that had been in charge of the initial assault upon this building, Adjustant Terren, was just in front of Drayax, facing his commander and walking backwards with the grace that these superhuman possessed.

"Initial assault has yielded 100 percent success… we have a total hostage count of twenty five civilians and eight scientists; my finest cryptologist, Assault Agent Sensier, has nearly penetrated their computer's defences; after that, we can begin transmitting to Proxima Base…"

"Excellent… what is the status of obtaining the needed Tritinite ore?"

"We isolated the proper scientist with the needed access codes to the vault… their check-in time is scheduled one point seven eight minutes, sir."

Drayax's jaw tightened… he had a bad feeling… "Attempt to contact them immediately. Sound out a general role call…"

"Sir, I am certain the delay is for simple enough reas-"

"Do it!" Turning away from the flustered Adjustant, he turned to his personal unit, more specifically two of the Marksmen. "Boyor, Ren, report to the vault and assertain its status."

"Aye Sir," They chorused in reply and jogged off.

Drayax sighed slightly... this small wrinkle was probably nothing, but there was still an unsettling feeling...

-------

Raziel was just turning down another bend, by now a good five turns away from the vault room when the sound of footsteps caused him to pause, his hands dropping to the assault rifle. A moment later, two soldiers came running around the corner.

Just as Raziel realized there was something different about these soldiers- their armour thicker, weapons newer- one barked at him; "Gamma Alpha Tango!"

"Wha-?"

Before Raziel could get anything else out, both men levelled their pulse rifles and opened fire.

Evidently, that had been some kind of code phrase, and no answer definitely wasn't better than the wrong one…

The combined blast caught Raziel straight in the chest, the impact lifting him clear off his feet and hurling him through the air. The first barrier he came across, a wooden door, shattered under the impact, and he just kept on going across the small office he had forcefully entered, his back crashing into a few bookshelves a moment later.

Owwww...He thought weakly, tumbling to the floor, the bookshelves burying him. He could smell somewhat charred skin, probably his own, and realized that the blast must have burned right through the padding he had worn.

These were definitely stronger soldiers…

Eventually, however, the charred scent of flesh was joined by the slightly musky scent he seemed to give off whenever he healed his injuries. The throbbing pain in his chest began to ebb, and a few moments later faded altogether. They were stronger, but not quite as strong as him…

Lying in wait beneath the bookshelves, he heard approaching footsteps and muttered conversations as the two assailants approached his fallen position… he doubted they could see him beneath all the books and the wooden shelves themselves, but he nonetheless remained perfectly still, waiting for the appropriate moment…

One their footsteps were merely a few feet away, he lifted his head oh so slightly, peering through a narrow gap in the debris. Licking his slightly parched lips, he calculated the distance between himself and his intended destination… focused…

The soldiers, stopping just a foot away from the fallen bookshelves with weapons drawn, only saw a brief flash of light, and a sudden shifting as the shelves fell in on themselves. At first they felt confusion…

But, even as they began to realize what must have happened, another flash appeared behind them. Raziel materialized, hovering slightly above the ground. He did not even wait until he had landed, though; immediately he aimed a roundhouse kick for the back of the first guard's head.

The kick made the man stumble, but not fall, but the following jab and uppercut knocked him out cold. As Raziel turned to face the second one, he caught another bolt from the pulse rifle in the chest. Even prepared, he was still knocked back into the wall, his velocity leaving a crater in the plaster.

Falling to one knee, Raziel pushed off with one foot, slamming his head straight into the soldier's midriff. The man fought back, and after a brief but fierce tussle, Raziel walked out of the office, limping slightly where a third blast had injured his knee.

As his healing kicked in, however, his limp faded, his pace becoming hurried and steady once more. Those soldiers had been a lot stronger than the ones he had faced before, which either meant they had all gotten bitten by a radioactive cockroach or some junk like that, or these were different soldiers…

This could create problems…

--------

"This could create problems…"

Drayax was seated in a plush leather seat in the Main Conference Room, rubbing his padded temples. Things had been goingso well, he knew something would have to go wrong…

"Are you sure there hasn't been any reply?" Drayax demanded of Terren for what must have been the tenth time. (Actually, it had been the thirteenth; Terren had been counting.)

"Yes, sir, no contact on any frequency… however, there are explanations, sir," Terren replied, seeing his potential promotion slowly spiralling down the drain. "The vault itself may be blocking our radio signal…"

Ignoring him, Drayax pulled back his sleeve, tapping on a personal comn unit located on his forearm. Programming it to lock onto the frequencies of the two men he had sent off to the Vault, he spoke quietly, trying to remain calm; "This is Archon Drayax, status report."

Static was the only response.

"Perhaps the lab possesses a heightened electro-magnetic field that-"

"Terren, shut up…" Drayax groaned, starting to rub his temples again. "How many of your men are accounted for?"

Terren paused, his masked face somehow conveying a sense of nervousness…

"Terren…" Drayax's voice was starting to sound dangerous…

"Seven, sir, including myself..."

Drayax sat for a moment, processing that. "Very well… I suppose we should cut our losses, then… how much longer before the download to Proxima Base is complete?"

"Estimated at seven minutes, sir."

"Very good… sadly, the nearest orbital satellite we could use to bounce the information back to the Mainframe won't be in transmitter range for another day… so, until then, I have been authorized for some additional protection. You are to report immediately to Proxima Base, with your remaining men. There you will be re-equipped with more up-to-date weaponry for the period between your arrival and the final transmission…"

"Yes, sir." Terren bowed deeply, then turned away. Just as he reached the conference room's door, however, Drayax's voice stopped him, cold and sinister.

"Oh, and Terren… I strongly suggest you protect that base with your life… because, if something happens to that data, you will find that there are worse things than death…"

------

Raziel was worried.

This in itself wasn't too unusual, considering current circumstances. But he was really worried now, for a simple reason…

It was quiet. Too quiet.

Yes, yes, cliché of the year, but it was really too quiet! Raziel was certain that there must be more men here, a lot more. At the very least fifteen or twenty in the original assault, that was usually standard Council procedure… but he had only taken out ten, and there was no one!

Something was definitely wrong…

Raziel had been following the sound of active power lines, a dull hum that was slowly intensifying as he grew nearer to its source… trying to remember what they had been told about the building's design, Raziel wasn't too surprised to realize that he hadn't really been paying much attention to it.

Wait, wait, now he remembered… by the sound of it, he must be approaching the main computer core… and there was bound to be some Council in there…

Peeking in an expansive window overlooking the computer room, he grinned. Bingo.

A total of six Council were in there… four were off chatting in a corner, two of them Adjustants… one was guarding a hostage… the last was operating what looked like a portable satellite dish. That must be whatever they were using to grab that data…

Taking a deep breath, Raziel considered his options. A moment later, he reached into one of the suit's patches, withdrawing the power cell he had grabbed from the first Rifleman… he had heard these things could be quite unstable.

In the next minute, ten things happened within seconds.

One, the window was blasted to smithereens as armor-piercing, Teflon-coated bullets shattered the glass, sending razor sharp pieces hurling to the ground below.

Two, all six soldiers, enhanced reflexes working overtime, spun in the direction of the disturbance, lifting their weapons in the direction of it.

Three, directly behind every single soldier and hovering near the large ceiling, a good twenty feet above the ground, Raziel shimmered into existence, hurling the power cell at the four gathered Council soldiers…

Four, Raziel fired at the cell- well, with his accuracy, he kind of sprayed lead in its general direction- several shots tearing into the small super-battery.

Five, the damaged battery landed in the centre of the four men, the physical jolt pushing it into a final overload.

Six, the resulting explosion tossed all four soldiers away like rag dolls, killing the common soldiers, but only knocking the Adjustants unconscious.

Seven, the remaining two spun around to aim at the hero, but a spread of bullets from the potential target struck the transmitter, causing it to burst into flames and explode.

Eight, the explosion sent the soldier near it flying, slamming him into a wall with enough force to shatter several bones and drive him into unconsciousness.

Nine, the last soldier fired a spread of bullets at his target, but by then Raziel had already vanished in a flash of light.

Ten, Raziel reappeared behind the last soldier, clubbing him in the back of the head with the butt of his rifle and knocking him out cold.

By the end of those few seconds, the room was in shambles, Council soldiers strewn around, either dead or unconscious. Consoles sparked and sputtered, badly damaged by the various explosions.

"You okay?" He asked the hostage, someone he recognized as a girl in his class. She nodded, trembling from head to foot. "Okay, get out of here…"

"W-who are you?" She asked, stuttering slightly.

At first he was ready to snap; "What, you don't recognize your own classmate!" Then, just in time, he remembered the mask in place.

"Oh… uh… a guy that's having a bad day…" He muttered, then shooed her off.

Darting to a console, Raziel tapped in a quick command, checking the readings that popped up. Computer logs showed that the data the Council had been after had been completely transmitted… successfully…

"Damnit!" He yelled, slamming his hands down on the console. The thing, already weakened by the explosions, literally fell to pieces under his fists. Just as he was about to find something else to smash, a thought occurred to him. Hurrying to another console, he entered another command, trying to trace the transmission… chances were the soldiers had planned on wiping such information from the databanks, but if he had stopped them in time…

There were the coordinates… longitude… latitude… excellent. Raziel quickly committed them to memory… with any luck, he could get there and stop them from uploading the data to their superiors…

A click behind him was the only warning he got, but it was enough to pierce through his satisfaction and get his adrenaline pumping. Throwing himself to one side with all the strength his muscular legs possessed, he was still sent flying across the room as a grenade exploded right where he had been standing, the blast striking him like a sledgehammer.

Crashing into a bank of computers with enough speed to shatter the plastic casings, he groaned. Who the hell had a grenade launcher? Getting to his feet a bit unsteadily, Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, he glared at his attacker…

Raziel must have been quite a sight… on top of the various holes the earlier pulse blasts had made in the stolen uniform, the grenade blast had caused several tears in the mask and the torso, blood dribbling down various cuts for the few moments needed for those cuts to heal.

The Archon who stared at him, dressed in a tidy assault uniform, seemed amused, even with the mask hiding his face.

"My, my, you are the resilient one…" he noted wryly, tilting his head as he regarded the battered, but quickly recovering hero. "I must say, I can guess that you are no regular soldier of the Council… so, exactly who are you?"

"None of your business," Raziel growled in reply, feeling his strength already returning.

"Such excellent wit!" The man beamed, his tone a rather mocking one. "Well, for the record, I go by the name of Draynax. Archon Draynax. A pleasure, I assure you." An elegant bow punctuated the point.

Raziel just dropped into a crouch, fists lifted and expression grim.

"Why, resilient and feisty! Marvellous," The Archon drawled, giving a melodramatic sigh. "Why, with one of your obvious talents, I had considered offering you employment… but, I guess that is not an option…"

In the blink of an eye, the Archon levelled his rifle and opened fire.

But, by then, Raziel was already gone.

A super-powered leap carried him out of the way, the heavy uranium bullets the gun fired leaving deep pockets in the ground. Flipping in midair, Raziel rebounded off a wall, zooming in at the Archon fistfirst before the man could even begin to react.

Draynax quickly dropped his weapon, letting it fall to the ground. In the blink of an eye, he caught Raziel's extended fists, a quick twist more than enough to send the hero hurling across the room.

Another bank of computers met the wrath of Raziel's body, but within seconds he was back on his feet, charging forward to engage the Archon in close combat.

The man was fast, almost impossibly so, able to keep back Raziel's frenzied assaults for several minutes. Super-strong fists and feet battered the hero's ribs, but Comet Fist refused to back down, blocking and striking with all the speed he possessed.

The fight went on for nearly ten minutes, ten minutes of super-fast attacks and counter-attacks. Finally, however, Raziel landed a decisive blow, slamming the toe of his steel-toed boot straight into Drayax's soft solar plexus.

The other man's breath left him in a whoosh, and a quick series of jabs drove him back, slamming him back step by step. Finally, a Crane Kick struck him clean in the chest, hurling the man back fifteen feet into a wall.

The metal wall bent and dented under the impact, and Drayax slumped to the ground, landing on his hands and knees. His breaths came in short gasps, chest heaving, with the slightest rattle that blood was thick in his mouth and nose.

But, even as Raziel stormed forward to finish the job, the rattle changed into something deeper… something more animalistic…

With a roar, the Archon exploded outward, arms thickening, clothing tearing, and fur starting to sprout.

The Archon was a werewolf.

"Oh dear." Raziel stated, just before a ham-sized fist caught him under the chin, sending him end over end into the only remaining bank of intact computers. Shatter, crash, etc.

"Aie…" The battered hero muttered, trying to move. He was really sore right now, and his limbs weren't quite interested in cooperating with him…

Then, before he could move, the same massive hand grabbed him by the ankle, and the arm attached to it swung like a pendulum, smashing Raziel into every available surface. Wall, floor, wall, wall, floor, floor, floor, wall…

Finally, the somewhat furrier Archon tossed Raziel a good ten feet in the air, interlaced his fingers, then swung a two-handed blow right at the hero as he came back down.

Like a large, battered baseball, Raziel shot through the window he had broken, through a door, through a plaster wall, through a snack machine, and finally came to rest at the end of a long corridor, about sixty five feet from the decidedly victorious Archon…

Now, despite all this, his injuries were not life-threatening, thus the Hospital transporters did not activate… and, unfortunately, Raziel was still conscious, though barely… he could vaguely hear a door slamming open, shouted orders to freeze, a roar in reply, shots, screams… then silence.

Raziel knew only one thing. He was lying there, dressed in the scraps of a Council Uniform… he really didn't want to be arrested…

Managing to brace himself on his hands, Raziel started to crawl down the corridor, coughing slightly… everything hurt… he was certain he had broken nearly every rib… the only thing that kept him moving was superhuman resilience, and sheer stubbornness…

Already, his wounds were starting to heal with the rapid recovery that all heroes possessed… in five, maybe ten minutes, he would be at full strength again…

He just had to stay away from the cops that long…

--------

He eventually managed to find himself a room with a false ceiling. You know, the ones with weak tiles instead of an actual ceiling? Well, he was able to haul himself up one of the tiles, into a small crawlspace. Curled up in a ball, he lay there until he had enough strength to move without pain…

Once his wounds had healed, it was a piece of cake to evade the police without even having to throw a single kick. A bit of superspeed here, a teleport there, out the window and off into the darkening sky…

As Raziel flew through the air, heading towards his apartment to get his costume, he felt determination… he had no doubt that the Archon had gotten away… and he was probably returning to the place where the coordinates had been transmitted…

Comet Fist would be waiting for him…

To Be Continued…