It was a stormy November evening in the City of Tomorrow. There stark angles, creeping shadows in the buildings, the city was dense, crowded, as if hell had erupted through the sidewalks. Pushers wave to hookers, street hustlers slap high-fives with three-card monte dealers. They all seem to know each other. Several wreckless teens seem to know each other as they're loitering around a statue. Yep, just another night in Chicago in 1934.

A family of tourists holding Playbills march warily down the main drag and out of a theater. Just out of a show. But the respectable theatre crowd has thinned out, and now the mother looked concerned: they're on Chicago's meanest street.

The father noticed there was a cab on the way, the Taxi driver stops as he notices the father signaling that he needs a way to get to his destination.

"Yeah?" The Taxi Driver asks.

"Thank you. Hi. I'd like to go to the Majestic Hotel." The father said, but then a casino owner interrupted as he entered the Taxi.

"'Scuse me." The rude passenger said, before the door shut as the Taxi went off.

"Woah, wait!" The father said, angrily, "I was here first!"

The taxi drove off, going to a certain place, much to the irritation of the father. It's been a great play and all, but all he wants to do is rest up for the night.

"Let's go, we'll go across!" The father then said, annoyed. "TAXI!"

"Can't we just get a taxi, Bobby?" The mother said.

"I'm trying to, Lin!"

Three cabs streak pass and disappear as the boy reads the map.

"We're heading the wrong way!" The boy then said.

"You're making us look like tourists, Gene, put that map away!" The father snaps as people in the street are beginning to snicker. This seems to be a funny sight to them.

"We should cut over to seventh if we'll ever get a cab." The father sighed, the family headed down the street. 2 cops lean on their patrol car outside an all-night souvlaki stand, sipping coffee and chatting with a hooker. The hooker smiles at the boy, who smiles back, as the mother yanks him off down the street and glowers at the dad.

"Seventh is that way." The boy said, making the older Teenage daughter look concerned.

"I know where we are!" The father said, angrily as they walk into a deserted street lined with stripped-down cars. As the family marches into the darkness, the 3 kids looked very disturbed. It's nothing but a filthy, disgusting alley, consisting of trash cans, dumpsters, rats, and bags.

"Yo, bro!" A voice said. It came from a homeless man. He is a green man with shoulder-length, greenish-brown hair. He is also fat and has large breasts. He wears a long-sleeved grayish-blue shirt, dark gray pants, and black shoes. His name was Muscle Man. "Hey, mister. Give me a dollar."

The family rolled their eyes as they tried to get through the alley.

"Come on, bro." Muscle man said, annoyed. "One dollar! What are you, deaf?"

The tourist family ignores them as they speed up, yet they fail to notice a shadowy figure looming in the shadows. A gloved hand slams a gun on the mother and father's necks, knocking them unconscious as the parents fell.

As the teenage daughter is too terrified to scream or do anything, she grabs her younger siblings and backs to the wall. A street punk has the kids at gun point. He is a teenage punk that has black hair, freckles, crooked teeth, grayish skin. He wears a black t-shirt, a red with black striped overshirt with the sleeves rolled up, blue jeans, and white sneakers. His name was Terrence.

"Do your brother and sister a favor, toots," Terrence said as Muscle Man ran to the unconscious parents and grabbed their wallets. "Don't scream."

As the crooks make their getaway, the older teenage sister has tears streaming down her face. She stifles a scream and clutches her sister and brother. The younger siblings are paralyzed with fear.

The two punks as they race away into the night. The little girl's self-control disintegrates as she was traumatized by what she saw. she begins to scream in terror before moving to unconscious Dad. Her screams of terror and fright echo throughout the city, reaching to a darkly ornate Gothic anomaly: The old City Cathedral, once grand, but now, it's boarded up.

Several gargoyles gaze down from their shadowy rooftops. On one of those Gargoyles, is a 9-year old vigilant figure, kneeling as he keeps a vigilant watch over the city. The scream from the girl is heard by the figure as he jumps off and uses his cape to glide into the night.

Meanwhile on the top of an old, tall ghetto building, Muscle Man and Terrence hunker down on the tar-and-gravel roof, sizing up their take. This has been, so far, a good night stealing from the helpless.

" American Express card. "Don't leave home without it."" Terrence joked. The 2 punks laughed, they love stealing stuff. A chill wind blows as Nick counts cash. There's a distant, metallic clang; Muscle Man had an uneasy feeling in his stomach, something's not right here.

"Uh, bro, we should get out here." Muscle Man then said. "I hate this place."

"Why?" Terrence taunted. "You scared of heights?"

"I dunno," Muscle Man said, nervously. "After what happened to Jack Spicer..."

Terrence rolls his eyes, Muscle Man had this fear for many weeks. This has gone on long enough.

"Look, Spicer had too much to drink and took a big fall off a roof. No harm, no foul!" Terrence said as he shuffled the stolen money.

"No." Muscle Man gulped. "That's not what I've heard, bro. I heard that "You know who" got him."

"Goddammit," Terrence said. "Are you ever gonna let it go?"

"Five stories. Straight down. There wasn't any blood in the body." Muscle Man yelped, terrified.

"It was all over the pavement. What did you expect?" Terrence scoffs as he counts his money. Suddenly, another noise is heard. Now even Muscle Man can't ignore the slight tingle at the base of his spine...

"Oh, no, bro!" Muscle Man yelped. "I'm getting out of here, man. You shouldn't have turned the gun on that kid."

"Shut up, man. Listen to me. There ain't no Caped Avenger." Terrence said, losing patience. As he talks, a Vigilant Silhouette is drops in slowly, implacably at the opposite corner of the roof, some fifteen yards away... at the end of a line. "You want your cut of this money or don't you? Now shut up! Shut up -"

Both punks freeze at the sudden, inexplicable sound of boots crunching on gravel. They turn slowly. Their jaws drop as they see the sight of a kid in a black suit with a purple cape, black boots, purple gloves and a utility belt with a D shaped buckle. He had light skin, purple shades, and red puffy hair. He was the vigilante kid that everyone was reporting about.

As the 2 punks ran from the caped crusader, they shot their guns, which the kid dodged and jumped from easily.

As the crooks panicked, stolen money flutters out of Terrence's hands. He scuttles frantically across the roof. A sharp, shiny, black boomerang is thrown at the door, scaring him away from his path to the fire escape. Trapped like a rat, Terrence fires his gun wildly.

Muscle Man's face is pale. The vigilante runs after him as he kicks Muscle Man so hard that he lifts him cleanly off his feet - and sends him flying through the air. Muscle Man slams into a brick chimney and slumps unconscious.

The Vigilante doesn't even break his stride. Not wanting any more of this, Terrence charges past the black wraith, heading toward the fire escape, only for the hero to shoot a grappling hook around Terrence's legs, and Terrence runs forward, only to find his legs ensnared in a tangle of wires. As he falls flat on his face, he drags himself across the gravel roof, the Vigilante at his heels... 'til there's no place left to go as Terrence cowers on the edge.

Terrence keeps shooting with his eyes closed. The vigilante grabs Terrence by the shirt, walks over to the edge as he hoists him into the air. Terrence opens his eyes... only to see that the vigilante is standing on the ledge of the roof, holding the teenager out, at arm's length, over six stories of nothingness. After seeing this, a terrified Terrence isn't exactly clueless, as he knows what the vigilante is going to do with this!

"Don't kill me! Don't kill me, man. Don't kill me! Don't kill me!" Terrence pleaded as he sees the street below him.

"I'm not going to kill you." The vigilante child angrily said in a Russian accent. "I'm giving you this one warning to your friends, beware my wrath."

"What are you?!" Terrence then said, terrified. The Vigilante child angrily pulled Terrence closer to his face.

The vigilante angrily growled, "I'm DexStar."

DexStar heaves him roughly back onto the tar-and-gravel surface of the roof. And then, casually, without a moment's hesitation as lightning strikes and thunder was heard, DexStar steps off the ledge as he shoots his grappling into midair, swinging and gliding off into the night.

As police sirens wail, Terrence faints. The Dark Guardian known as DexStar is real.