The traditional theories behind stopping a small bank heist are centered around ambushing criminals on their way out of the premises. The idea is that bank-robbers bust into these buildings pumped full of adrenaline and sporting itchy trigger fingers. Once the bad guys bag the cash and make a run for the getaway car (why is it always a Sedan?), they start relaxing a little- holstering weapons, losing focus, celebrating their successes. The hero always strikes when the point man slides open the door to the van. Some more experienced crime-busters even wait for the ignition to start. It's clockwork, really: make a flashy entrance, strip the fools of their weapons, knock 'em out, dodge a last bullet, bop him (or her, although I will try to dish out a softer "boop"), and clean up. All that's left after is to gift wrap the pack for the Police and make a quick get-away.

What these lessons (Life & Times of Gotham PD: Season 2 is great, really) don't take into account is the possibility of the "Rebirth Incident" accelerating the progress of thousands of X-Genes across the World. Apparently, the director never suspected that a new generation of young mutants would kick-start the paranoia that ended on the eve of M-Day. He evidently didn't find it appropriate to let us know how to subdue the special kind of thug. My previous two nights as a vigilante did not include a miniature Cyclops (his daughter? little sister?) and her gargantuan-looking partner.

That's why theories are theories, I guess.

Still, I wondered why these two clowns had to choose Thursday night to rob a bank. Shit always goes down on my Thursday nights and I'd like to continue to keep them open. Last Thursday was the kitchen on fire. Before that, Dad's broken leg. I'll probably port back to the dorm tonight and find it locked….

I groaned. "Ahhhh, shit." Anyways, time to focus- the baddies were loading the last of their "prize money" into the bag. I deliberated my approach. I needed to take out the she-clops first; I had seen firsthand what her eye beams did to the vault door. I had no doubt in my mind that the giant would be one of those slow, strong types. I'd be defenseless, but it was better than tangoing around an endless supply of lasers. Alright.

"Come on, Mark, let's get a move on."

"If you think these duffels look light, then move them yourself, girlie."

"Hell no. I have to keep a look-out since you're too incompetent to do so!" The male grunted but didn't disagree. He loaded the last of the bags and slammed the trunk closed. She turned around to scan the garage just one more time before leaving. I dropped in between the two. Go time. All I needed was a moment to tap her shoulder.

"Hi!"

Mark and the Cyclops-es (Cyclops-a? Cyclop-ella?) turned around at the same time. "Wha-"

"Got you," I muttered. My hand glowed its classic Golden sheen and I moved my fist to her chest. However, just as I was about to grab her, a blur appeared and knocked my hand away. Damn it!? What stopped me? Did I miss a third person? I looked up.

Mark stood right in front of me, his body planted in front of his partner's, giving me the meanest look he could possibly muster. If I wasn't so sure that I was about to die, I might have even found it comical. My hand was lodged into his abdomen and I could see steam distorting the air around me.

Super speed. Really? All these classic tropes he fulfilled and he has speed? My jaw just about fell open with shock; I struggled to get out some witty greeting that might alleviate the situation. "Uhhhhhh…."

Mark had softer eyes than I expected. "Ah, the speed?" I nodded and he started to chuckle, "I was a weight-lifter before the Incident. Best of both worlds, I guess."

"Both worlds?"

This time he guffawed, "Yup. Even though I might not have hulk-tier strength, I certainly have more than enough to allow Alexa to blow a hole through your stomach." Oh shit. I started kicking my legs as he swung me around and held me like a matador would hold a red cape. "She's all yours, Carla." I could see the girl more clearly now; clearly a college student like I was. Very pretty and no eye-gizmo either. Clearly, the Incident blessed her with greater powers of control than the X-Man counterpart. She looked me over.

"You sounded White. I thought you were White." I rolled my eyes.

"Come on, now. That's the last thing I want to hear before I die. Who would want to share racial characteristics with you two uglies?" She snarled and brought her fingers to her temple. I counted down. Five, four, three-

"Any last words?" Mark offered. I shrugged.

"Sure. Sayonara." I grinned. Clearly sensing that I had a plan, Mark opened his mouth to tell his partner to pause my imminent execution. Before he could, his whole body glowed with the glory of a blazing sun and disappeared. I dropped the floor just as an eye-beam sailed through where my left nipple had just been.

You could have heard a pin drop.

"What. Did. You. Just. Do?" She hammered out each word.

"I killed him, of course. What else?" I raised my eyebrow. I smirked at her while she stared at the space her partner had been before he disappeared into the void. She turned to me, then back to the empty space. She turned again, and back. Each time she focused on my figure, her eyes grew a brighter and brighter blood crimson. Seeing red had never been taken more literal-

BOOM. I barely had time to dodge the first barrage of eye beams before rolling behind one of the stone pillars that lined the garage. "I thought you were supposed to be a HERO," she screeched, launching another shot. I covered my head from the debris that was raining down from the smashed pillar and bolted towards a line of trucks, hoping a break in cover could save my skin. Both of us moved further into the garage.

"Yeah, well… those traditional rules of super-heroism kind of wash away when you're shot at by a 2,000-degree Celcius laser cannon." I retorted. I barely had enough time to catch my breath before another heat blast literally burned the clothing off my back. Bitch.

"YOU KILLED HIM YOU SON OF A BITCH." Carla kept screaming like a mad-woman (I'd be pretty mad too, not gonna lie), leaving scorch marks across the concrete walls. I heard the Pshhhh of water as the fire alarms shrilled. The police would most likely be here soon. I'd have to wrap this up quickly. I decided to enact the always-useful "Play #1." I grabbed two little marble-esque spheres out of my pocket and tossed them on the ground.

Poof! Time to disappear.

Carla was furious. She had thought she knew every Seattle para that operated in the down-town area. In the immediate aftermath of the Incident, it had become clear to most smart mutants that it would be important to scout out the local talents. However, no matter how much she racked her brain, she couldn't think of any A, B, or C class mutants that could somehow blow humans to smithereens. She shuddered- could he possibly be… an Omega?

The chill down her spine felt like a veritable blizzard.

"Die. Die. Die. Die. DIE!" At this point, Carla wasn't even aiming- she slowly backed up to the ramp that marked the bank's exit. She finally stopped when a series of explosions- the cars must have finally taken enough abuse- literally shook the entirety of the building. As the Cyclops struggled to regain her footing, she tried to remain vigilant to the whereabouts of her mysterious enemy. She had no idea that he would

Tap Tap Taip

be right behind her. Carla didn't even take the time to scream; it was more of a calm acceptance that she was about to go. "How did you get behind me? I would have felt you creeping behind me. I don't think it's possible for you to have a port ability either; I saw you kill Mark. You can't have both." She turned around.

This was her first good look at the so-called "hero." Definitely not the most impressive costume she had ever seen. A tight, black "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle-esque" band covered the area around his eyes. A cough-mask covered the other half of his face. Simple black t-shirt. A clean set of jeans. A thoroughly average looking human male. He gave a small smile and raised his palm at her. Carla knew it was over.

"You think you're going to make it to classes tomorrow?" Carla couldn't help but try to get one last quip in. The man stared. "The pencil in your pocket. It's from the USF orientation day. I'm asking whether you're going to be able to stay awake in your lectures tomorrow," She spoke in a sing-song voice. Carla gave her adversary's withering look a bright, defiant smile.

"I hope you're ready." The assailant raised his palm, now shimmering with the same golden hue it had before, as if to strike her. Carla closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her heart nearly stopped as the swing went past her and struck the floor.

What?

In a flash of golden light, Mark reappeared next to her, kneeling and shivering as if he had spent the past five minutes in a meat locker. Carla's jaw nearly fell to the ground. The hulking man soon composed himself and looked to his right.

"Carla? You're alive!?"

"….IDIOT. THAT'S WHAT I SHOULD BE ASKING YOU. HOW THE-"Carla started, before turning looking up, "YOU. EXPL-"

Click. Click.

Carla and Mark had never felt the physical drain that accompanied wearing inhibitor collars before, so they weren't necessarily prepared for the feeling of powerlessness that took the two by surprise. Carla wanted to continue yelling at the boy, but she struggled to find the words.

The masked man looked down at them, grinning like a kid on Christmas Eve. The three could here police sirens in the distance. Carla gave her captor a small smile.

"So, Mr. Hero, I really have to ask. Who do YOU take after? Pestilence?" He shook his head. "NightCrawler?" He shook his head again. "What the hell kind of mutant are you then?"

The man checked his watch. 10, 9… He looked at the product of a good night's work. 8, 7, 6.

He gave them the biggest grin he could muster. "I'm not a mutant. I'm a MYSTIC!"

With a flash, he disappeared.

I was on the beam again. I checked my watch again- I had needed the entire 10 minutes to take those two down. I really thought that all it would take was the ambush- didn't expect twinkle-toes to react so quickly.

I looked myself over. As always, all the burns and scrapes I had on my arms and chest had disappeared upon the Return. I opened the backpack I had stuck in between the pillars in order to grab the change of clothing I had. If I was lucky, I could still catch the bus back to campus.

I put my masks into the bag and slipped on a gray, inconspicuous hoodie. I could hear police officers on the other side questioning the two mutants I had captured; even though I put them down, I secretly hoped that they'd just get taken to an Academy.

I quietly poked my head out of the emergency exit- I saw two police cars driving off, presumably with that "Carla and Mark" in tow. I sprinted across the grass until I got to the nearest bus stop. I groaned as I parked my butt on the bench, wanting the rest even though I could see the bus slowly crawling up the street. A lady sitting on the far side of plywood gave me an odd look, but I just ignored it and stared ahead. Sigh – what a long day. The bus pulled up, so I reached into my pocket and pulled out…

embers. What the fuc-

I looked down and realized the entire right side of my jeans had been turned into crisp. I patted them down- wallet… wallet… wallet PLEASE. No dice- my license, my cash, my bus card must have been incinerated by that girl's lasers. I looked behind me at the lady who was waiting to get on the bus.

"FUCK THURSDAYS MAN. AM I RIGHT?" She stared and nodded before hurrying onto the bus. I started walking before the bus driven even closed the door- this was an all too familiar story-line. Things often got tough for people like me. That was the life of a hero with a C-Class super power.