Erick was sitting on alone, looking around his room miserably. Everything he owned was either packed away in boxes or in big bags. He wasn't upset that he was moving, but the reason bothered him. It was his mom, she had met a man named Morris who had convinced his mom to move to Chicago with him, but that's the only thing I ever remember about him.

Still, he thought to himself, It would be nice to go somewhere where people didn't stare at him all the time. Erick wasn't someone who enjoyed too much attention, but it seemed that attention somehow followed him. When he was 9 years old his class when on a field trip to the zoo, he had wandered off with his best friend David. They ended up deciding to go back to the group after they had both been scared by a tiger that had clawed at them from behind the glass. Then Erick had seen a little girl, she was alone and she seemed scared. He walked up to her to ask if she needed help but a middle aged man had walked up to her and took her by the hand. He stopped, thinking it was the girl's father, but the look on her face made him feel that it wasn't.

As they walked away Erick followed, with David beside him all the way, to the empty parking lot where the man had parked his car.

"Give me your phone." He said to David. He began to film, "Let my sister go!" Erick lied. The man turned, mistake for him.

"Here." He handed the phone to David, who continued filming. David filmed Erick running across a parking lot, shouting for help as he jumped on the older man, biting and scratching, doing anything to slow him down. David yelled for help until adults came. Erick and David had both made the local news for catching a wanted child molester and Erick was suddenly a local celebrity.

Erick now looked out his bedroom window at the house across the street. It was long empty now. The old neighbors had been Erick's first and only friends. David and Amber first moved across from him around the time he was born. They moved out after someone had tried to rob their house, that night ended with a fight that killed their mother. It had been empty for almost 5 years now.

Erick decided to sleep while he waited for his mother's return. When he fell asleep he had a dream that he'd had many times, but this dream was memory of years ago. He was walking along an empty street, then out of one of the houses people ran out. The house caught fire so quickly and burned so hot he felt it from across the street. Then the scream of a little girl with the voice of a giant. Before Erick could think his body sprinted towards the house. People yelled at him but he ignored them. Erick bounded up the stairs and searched until he found her, a little girl no more than 5 or 6 years old. He had guided her to the exit and told her to run, he tripped and landed on his back, winded. From above a pillar of fire dropped on him, causing him to wake up suddenly. He was sweating. He removed his shirt to look at the scar that ran across his whole chest diagonally, going right over his heart. The melted and torn skin had now healed. But Erick was different from that day on, more ill tempered and bitter despite being greeted with praise for his good deeds and despite the special treatment he had received.

"Some hero." Erick grumbled to himself while he put his shirt back on.

His mom came and they loaded that last of their stuff into the rental truck and left. The ride was long, so he listened to music to try and pass the time. After Erick got bored and restless he began to look at photos on his phone, after a short time of going through recent photos. He got to much older ones, photos taken when David often stole his phone while Erick's attention was elsewhere. They were mostly of Erick with David's head sticking out of the corner, he was always smiling. Amber was in many of them too, always being dragged along with them to act almost like the mother of the group. In this past life before they left Erick had always had a crush on her and they had even been each other's first kiss. They had moved after their mother died, He hadn't heard from them since their mother's funeral.

"Rick?" His mother said, ripping him out of his memories. She called him 'Rick' ever since his father died. She had reserved Erick for his father, who had died of cancer when Erick was 6. He still had distant memories of him, his best one was from years and years ago, an average night. While he was being tucked in and Erick had asked him, "Dad, why don't you want to take your medicine?" He had just looked at him with a smirk and said, "Cause you don't want a bald dad do ya'?" A month after that he had taken a turn for the worst and died not long after.

"I know you think that I'm moving fast with Morris, but, it's just that he makes me happy. I haven't felt this way since..." She stopped.

"I know mom. I know." Erick reassured her.

After that Erick fell asleep, and woke up when they pulled up to a tall building, taller than Erick had ever seen. It was a skyscraper of clean glass going up and up. The windows reflected the rest of the Chicago skyline off of them. Morris was waiting for them, he had a nice clean suit on and his short, dark hair was slicked back and combed very neatly. He wore a smile that seemed too friendly for his naturally angry-looking face.

"We're moving into an apartment? Will all our stuff even fit?" Erick wondered aloud as they stepped out of their rental truck. As Morris walked up to them he simply chuckled and said, "Come, I'll give you a tour." Morris turned and began walking into the building. "They will bring all your stuff up." He said as he motioned to a group of hotel workers who all began to rush to the truck as soon as Morris mentioned them.

Erick was speechless, after going up many floors in the elevator they arrived to a almost mansion-like apartment that was twice the size of his old house. After touring the rest of the massive apartment Morris showed him to his room, which was painted a nice deep blue that made Erick feel like he was in the ocean. On one end was a window with the view of the Chicago skyline, and at the other end Erick could see a small sliver of the coast. The room was at least three times as big as Erick's old room and it was furnished with a large screen TV with gaming systems hooked up. There was a pool table as well as a air hockey table, a bed large enough for a family of six to sleep on. Erick jumped when Morris patted him on the back saying "It's all yours, Erick." Erick noticed something strange, despite the fact that Erick knew that he did not like Morris, something about his voice made Erick unable to resist smiling.

He fought hard to shake the feeling and said, "So. What do you really do?"

Their eyes met and for a split second and Erick saw irritation in them, hidden behind layers of mock pleasantry, but again Morris just smiled and said "I'd prefer it if you didn't ask questions, Erick," Just then Erick's mind felt fuzzy, and warm. When he tried to question him further he found that his mouth was not obeying him. "I'm sure that you'd much rather sit here and play your video games, wouldn't you Erick?" Erick wasn't much of a gamer, but at that moment all Erick wanted to do was play video games.

"And Erick," Morris added with an almost sinister looking smile, "Leave me and your mother alone." He spoke gently and politely, but all niceness left his voice as he said that last word.

Again Erick tried to protest, but he was already moving and thinking about video games, about how much he needed to play video games. After a few minutes he hadn't even noticed that Morris had left. Even after hours when Erick had gone to try and get water or further explore the apartment, he would stop at the door, unable to turn the knob and leave, and he would have the sudden urge to play his video games again. Finally he was able to make it to bed and fall asleep.

Kyle Dunn walked down the busy Downtown Chicago sidewalk. The light grey concrete had been darkened from the previous night's storm, the smell of rain filled the air, even drowning out the nearly constant stench of the city's car exhaust and trash. Small puddles covered the ground every few steps. Kyle went out of his way to step in each of these puddles, creating a small splash each time (often to the annoyance of the dozens of people walking on the sidewalk with him). It was something Kyle had done to every single puddle he had seen ever since he was a kid. The memory of those simpler times brought a smile to his face.

This was the fifth time Kyle had walked down this street today. It was a boring chore, and a tedious one, but it was a necessary chore. If it wasn't done right, if something slipped past his eyes, it could undo everything they had worked so hard to build up. Kyle reached up and pulled off the hood of his sky blue jacket, giving him a better field of view over the street. A light misting of raindrops pattered against his head, soaking into his blonde hair. People walked on the sidewalk with umbrellas held over them or hoods over their heads. A block down the street a car had sped through a puddle in the road, sending ice cold water splashing onto the pedestrians on the sidewalk. Down the street in the opposite direction two children jumped and splashed in the water. Cars sped through yellow lights and grumbled down the road. Every now and again one would honk its horn obnoxiously.

Everything looks normal, Kyle thought to himself. Almost too normal...

He shook the creeping feeling of paranoia away. He knew it was just the stress of the job and the chilling rain that was making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Or at least he thought he knew it.

Kyle stopped in front of an alley between two large brick buildings. He slipped his hand into his jacket pocket and fished out a small piece of chalk. Kyle bent down and kneeled on one knee to tie the laces of his running shoes. When he finished he very discreetly dragged the chalk against the base of the building, making a diagonal white line that stood out from the faded red bricks. It was small and insignificant, something you wouldn't notice unless you were looking for it.

He stood and resumed walking, looking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't spotted by anyone. But the people of Chicago were ignorant of anything they didn't care to see. Kyle went around the block and stopped in a local coffee shop. He bought a small cup of coffee, black, and drank it inside the store. He paid with cash. He looked out the large glass window and scanned the streets. He looked for the usual signs that told him he'd been followed: One car rounding the corner too many times, people he'd seen earlier that day walking across the street, any suspicious people taking pictures of the shop from the street outside.

Kyle spotted none of this. The coast seemed clear. He checked his phone (the burner phone he used was an ancient flip phone). Half an hour had passed since he had marked the wall, which meant it was time to move. He got up and drained the rest of the coffee and threw it in the trash. Kyle stepped out into the rainy day and rounded the block to the position of the mark. It was the same, unaltered. A sinking feeling filled Kyle's stomach.

Whoever Kyle was meeting was supposed to cross his diagonal line with a mark of their own, making an X out of the two marks, signalling that the meeting was going as it should be. But Kyle's mark was alone. Whoever he was supposed to meet was required to be here and make their mark within thirty minutes of Kyle's mark. His contacts had always made the meetings within five minutes, but Kyle had always made the meeting on the dot. Kyle was infamous for being on time.

Kyle went around the block a few more times, each time he sent an inconspicuous glance at his mark on the wall. Each time it was left untouched. Kyle was supposed to leave by now, but he couldn't bring himself to it. He knew something was wrong, and he needed to find out what it was.

Kyle rounded the corner one more time, and from across the street of his alley he saw a small white line crossing his mark, creating an X on the faded brick wall. He stopped and looked up and down the street, seeing one more time if there was anything suspicious. Anything that would compromise the meeting. Both ways were the same, nothing out of the ordinary. People walked, cars drove by, and rain drizzled gently down to the earth.

Kyle stood on the corner of the street opposite of his mark. He shifted back and forth on his feet nervously. He was anxious, and he had a very bad feeling in his stomach. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on their ends again, as if something supernatural was warning him that something was wrong. Kyle wanted nothing more than to leave. He had every reason to. The standard procedure for this kind of operation was to leave if the contact was late. He was supposed to leave if something seemed wrong. He was supposed to trust his gut. Kyle knew that he should've walked away from the whole situation. More than just walk away from the alley, he wanted to run away.

Kyle was used to solving his problems by running.

But, in spite of every one of his primal instincts, Kyle stepped out into the street. In an instant, time slowed for Kyle and the world around him nearly stood still as he focused on the Power within him. Kyle could see each drop of rain fall from the sky, falling to the ground in slow motion. The people on the sidewalks almost seemed to freeze in place, moving like sloths. Kyle walked slowly, weaving in and out of the traffic that was now moving at a snail's pace. There was no noise as he walked besides the whooshing of wind past his ears. He moved so fast that nobody he passed would even be able to register that he had walked in front of them. All they would feel would be a gust of wind as he sped past them.

As he reached the opposite sidewalk he noticed something on the ground, a splash of deep red contrasting against the light grey of the concrete. It was out of place in the city, and something that should not have been there, and something that wasn't on the sidewalk all the other times Kyle had been by the alley. But it was unmistakable. Sitting on the sidewalk, already beginning to be washed away by the rain was a small drop of blood.

Kyle felt the dread in his heart grow, his spine tingled, and his veins flooded with ice. He now knew for sure that something was very wrong. As Kyle approached the alleyway he noticed another drop of blood on the sidewalk, this one was a little bigger than the last one. Kyle saw one drop after another, each one leading to the alley.

He finally reached the alleyway. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the alley, it looked like an average city alley. Though there were dumpsters against the brick walls piles of garbage sat piled up against them. Kyle released his focus on his Power, and the world returned to normal. The rain fell from the sky like it did before, and sound returned to Kyle's ears. The engines of the cars roaring and the peoples' steps on the pavement echoed off the walls of the brick alley.

Kyle stepped down the asphalt slowly, his nerves on their ends. He was jittery, trying to prepare himself for anything. He half expected to be ambushed by an army of soldiers hiding in the shadows. He also half expected to see nothing at all in the alley, it was all just some figment of his imagination. He shivered, not from the cold of the rainy day, but from the eeriness of the empty alley.

He noticed something unusual at the end of the alley. Behind a dumpster was a small puddle of liquid pooling out from under it, leaking out into the alley. He stepped closer, and he realized with a shock what the puddle was. The sunlight breaking through the gloom of the cloudy sky above provided very minor light between the skyscrapers, but what light that did reach the grimy alley illuminated the puddle that was slowly growing from behind the dumpster. The dark puddle reflected a deep red pigment, the instantly recognizable color of blood.

Kyle felt sick to his stomach. That puddle was very large, meaning somebody was seriously hurt. Or dead, Kyle added to himself. He approached the dumpster, ready to run away at the first sign of danger. He pushed his fears to the back of his mind like he was taught all those years ago and he took another step forward.

One step at a time, Kyle said to himself. One step at a time, he got closer to the dumpster. The alley had grown silent, an unusual thing to happen in a big city like Chicago. He finally reached the dumpster. Kyle closed his eyes and took a deep breath, calming his nerves a little. With his fears stuck firmly in the back of his mind he jumped around the dumpster and faced the source of the blood.

A girl sat with her back slumped against the brick wall. Her face was almost unrecognizable to Kyle. She looked to be in her early twenties, with a young, pretty face and long black hair. Her smooth bronze skin was very pale, and her long hair was unwashed and wild. She had dark bags under her closed eyes and a bruise on her face, right on her left cheekbone. There was a smear of dried blood on her other cheek. Despite her bloodied and beaten appearance, Kyle remarked how she was still beautiful.

"Jasmine," Kyle gasped, more to himself than anyone in particular.

Then Kyle looked down, and lodged in her stomach was some kind of arrow, covered in dried blood, as were her hands that laid on her stomach and clutched at the wound.. The white t-shirt she wore was soaked, more red than it was white.

"What have you done now?" Kyle whispered to himself.

"You're late, Speedy," Jasmine's voice rasped. Her lips curved into a weak smile. Her eyelids opened and Kyle saw the dark blue irises peer up at him. Her eyes were hazy and unfocused, but they seemed to light up a little at the sight of Kyle.

"I could say the same about you, Jas. What happened to you?"

"I'll tell you later. I need to get to Wayne. He needs to know...what's going to happen," Jasmine winced in pain as she tried to sit up from the blood stained wall, but Kyle put his hand on her shoulder and leaned her back against it.

"You're in no condition to be going anywhere. You need help,"

"Kyle, you and I both know we can't go to a hospital," Jasmine grabbed Kyle's hand and slid it off of her shoulder.

"I'm getting you to the healer," Kyle bent down to eye level with Jasmine.

"She's not gonna help us. She quit helping people," Jasmine put her arm around Kyle as he lifted her delicately off of the ground.

"She'll help you. I'll make sure of that," Kyle said as he steadied the injured Jasmine's body against his own.

"How are we gonna get to her? We're not exactly going to blend in out there,"

Jasmine let out another wince and her legs gave out. Kyle reacted with lightning speed and caught her.

"Don't worry about blending in. Nobody's gonna see us," Kyle said.

Jasmine laughed through the obvious pain that was on her bloodied face as she leaned on Kyle. "And how exactly are you planning on doing that?"

"It'll be easy," Kyle flashed a smile at her. "I'm gonna run."

Kyle picked the injured Jasmine up in his arms and time slowed to a crawl once again. Kyle stepped out into the busy street and watched the raindrops fall from the sky. He looked down at Jasmine, who hadn't even had time to react yet. Her face was calm again, all the pain from her was gone. She had closed her eyes mid-blink, and she looked like she was at peace. Kyle looked straight ahead and ran harder. As Kyle ran he made sure to step in every puddle he came across.

The next few months crawled by slowly for Erick. He'd spend most of his days wandering the streets and admiring the large city. Erick would stop at different cafes and just watch as people lived out their days. He would enjoy the sounds of the city and the feeling of a weight being lifted off his shoulders. Erick had finally become anonymous. In a city of 2.7 million people, nobody had time to worry about Erick and his fifteen minutes of fame. Erick had started a schedule of visiting the large stainless steel sculptures in Millennium Park.

One cold, Chicago morning while Erick was admiring the large, metallic, bean-shaped sculpture that was Cloud Gate. Erick saw something out the corner of his eye. A man dressed in a black sweater with matching jeans and a beanie took the bag of woman who looked well into her 60's. She shouted but the only policeman near them was far away and didn't seem to be paying attention. The man sprinted for the city streets to be lost in the crowd of people. Erick knew that what happened next was beyond his control, but as if they had minds of their own Erick's legs began to move. He ran straight to where the man would end up meeting the road which required him to run right under Cloud Gate ruining the picture of what were clearly tourist.

Erick was not a track racer and could not run particularly fast. But Erick ran regardless. The thief made it to the road with Erick closely behind, the man pushed through the crowded streets and into an alley. The thief had already made it halfway through when Erick entered. Just as the thief was reaching the end of the alley he ran into an enormous man walking into the alley. When they crashed into each other the thief with the bag fell, but the other man did not. As they collided the sound of metal hitting flesh echoed around the alley. It sounded like the thief had run right into a dumpster.

The purse in his hand went flying and landed right into the hands of the man, who looked very puzzled. As he caught up to the two Erick noticed that the enormous man had a scar that ran from the bottom of his lip all the way to his left ear. He looked at Erick and stuck out the purse, "Is this yours?"

"Uh no, I saw him take it from a lady and I just started running. But I can promise to return it to its owner," Erick informed the stranger who then smiled and said, "Nice to know there are still heroes among us."

"I'm definitely no hero." Erick corrected.

"I don't know man. Guys steals purse, you see it and start chasing the guy seems very 'hero' to me. But, hey, who am I? Just at the right place at the right time. Here, man." He tossed the bag and Erick caught it. He stuck his hand in his pocket turned and threw a peace sign behind his back saying "Later,"

Erick looked at the thief laying on the ground, who seemed to be very much out of it. He was groaning about hitting his head too hard. Erick left the alley and returned the bag to the old lady, who was trying to give a description to a police officer who wasn't really listening. She kindly gave Erick five dollars and he was on his way. He went home and had a unmeaningful talk with Morris that he didn't quite remember as usual before he went to his room to play video games till he fell asleep.

As fall began to turn to Winter Erick started college, he was studying to become a teacher. Erick had been good at tutoring kids all throughout his high school career and he had begun to like the idea. Erick's passion had been to write but he often thought he was too boring to be a good novel writer.

While sitting In class one day Erick saw a familiar face, the scar was unmistakable. Erick chuckled to himself, "Small world", he said to himself. Erick made few attempts to speak to this recurring stranger but always seemed to missed him. Erick focused on his school work and continued to accommodate to the city and its people. Erick had almost gotten stabbed twice trying to stop muggings, and had seen interesting people like a man in his mid twenties wearing sunglasses as snow fell from the sky. All was well for a few months until one day on the walk to school early in the morning Erick saw a mugging and a familiar scar.

Erick now knew better than to try and stop a mugging in a big city it couldn't be helped. But still he saw a man holding a knife at someone who although they shared only one memory it was one that laid heavily on Ericks mind "Right place right time" he'd said. What if i'm here at the right place right time to help? Don't I owe him? And with that thought Erick backtracked to the alley a peaked ever so carefully and saw the strangest thing happen so fast he thought he'd imagined it. The man went to stab the man in the stomach but the knife slid right off in fact it cut through his shirt to reveal a metal plate exactly where skin should have been. The Mugger had not noticed the metal but he did notice that he wasn't exactly acting like a man who'd just been stabbed.

Then another interesting thing happened, the kid swung wide and just as he made contact the man's arm seemed to turn into steel. It was skin then metal no transition just one moment skin and the next a metal hand then skin again. Erick was so awe struck he tripped when someone grazed him lightly and when he did he turned revealing his scar again his eyes piercing into Erick's. As they held a gaze the mugger had recovered enough to pull out a gun. Erick saw this but the man did not, the mugger was dazed and was shaking but he was too close to miss. Erick did something he'd seen or rather heard Morris do when he wanted something done, he just said what he wanted. "Put that down."

Erick didn't know why he'd done this and he certainly couldn't explain it to anyone but something deep down in his gut told him it would work. The mugger stopped and dropped the gun, the man with the scar now saw and punched the mugger in the face causing him to drop unconscious then he looked at Erick with a grin, his scar made him look almost insane.

"Yo-You just, your hand it turned to metal."

"And your voice just stopped him from shooting me." He chuckled a bit. "Son of a bitch. If that isn't the most clutch thing Ever."

"I mean That. Was definitely a cool quirk."

"Quirk?"

"Man no one is even gonna believe that I found you by chance." he said ignoring Erick.

"Umm…"

"Oh yeah I forgot. Im Darren and you are a 'Hero'. I'd like to take you to meet some people." He took a moment to read Erick face. "Don't worry, we're like you."

"What?"

"Look you don't pretend you didn't see my hand turn into a metal glove and I won't pretend you didn't just trick that guy into not shooting me and you can join my club?"

Erick had a million questions floating around in his head but what came out of his mouth was "Club?"

"Oh yeah. Hero. Welcome to the resistance." He said as he stuck out his hand to Erick.