"You stand no chance, Protectorate scum!"

The tall man in the metal suit with a swastika emblazoned across the chest, bright lights on the shoulders, stood at one end of the brilliantly lit warehouse, posing arrogantly. Armsmaster, Miss Militia, and Velocity stood at the other, while between them were dozens of boxes, crates, and other such warehouse paraphernalia.

There were also at least two dozen mooks, all with bright lights on their heads.

And guns.

Big ones.

All of which were pointed at the heroes.

"Who the hell is he?" Velocity whispered loudly to his comrades in arms.

"I have no idea," Armsmaster admitted. "Overall body shape and posture is an eighty-six point three percent match to Kaiser, but that's the best fit I can produce."

"Kaiser? He vanished after that whole Family thing months ago," Miss Militia noted curiously. "This nutcase turned up a couple of weeks ago and has been stealing every light bulb, streetlight, traffic light, you name it, in the entire damn city."

"My scans indicated that's what all these boxes are full of," the Tinker replied absently, looking around while waving a small device about him. "Very peculiar."

"What does he want a lot of lights for?" Velocity asked no one in particular. The other two shrugged.

"No clue. Anyway, he's the one we want, so I guess we'd better bring him in."

"You may try, deviants," the man, who had been politely waiting for them to stop discussing the situation, shouted. "You will fail. It is my destiny to seize all forms of light production, and through this, seize control of the entire governmental system world wide. Soon you will bow before me, for I am..." He waved his hands, the light from the thousands of bulbs in the ceiling growing intolerable. "The IllumiNazi!"

"Heil IllumiNazi!" all the mooks roared as one, making the heroes twitch.

"OK, he's nuts," Velocity remarked. "And might be Kaiser. There can't be that many Nazis in Brockton Bay. Not any more." All three of them shuddered, remembering.

"No, they probably wish that Raptaur had just eaten them, instead of what actually happened," Miss Militia said quietly.

"I would never have believe she could do what she did," Armsmaster remarked, readying his halberd. The woman beside him formed a heavy shotgun loaded with an infinite supply of beanbag rounds, while shaking her head.

Velocity shivered.

"Is it wrong that I feel terrified of an eighteen-year-old girl eight inches shorter than I am?" he asked.

"No. No, it isn't," Armsmaster sighed. "Ready?"

"Yes."

"Velocity, go."

The man didn't say anything, but disappeared in a blur, shooting off through the maze of boxes. Miss Militia picked her first target and fired. A mook screamed in surprise and toppled over, then all hell broke out as they all started shooting.

"You cannot win, degenerates," the IllumiNazi yelled, forming a sword from nothing and waving it. He stopped, looked at it, then pulled a small but brilliant light from a pouch at his his belt and attached it to the hilt of the sword, nodding in satisfaction. "I will win, you will fail, and the city will be mine! After that, the country."

"You talk too much," Armsmaster muttered, aiming his halberd at another mook, then pressing a concealed button on the haft. A bolt of crackling electricity jumped to the attacking man, who screamed and twitched, dropping to the floor where he lay smoking.

"More light!" The villain poked a control on his wrist-mounted Pad of Evil™, genuine Leet-Draco-Tech© brand. The illumination on the ceiling rose to a level that was physically painful, even Armsmaster's helmet visor having trouble cutting it enough for him to see. A pained cry from the other side of the room made him whirl.

"Fuck me, that's too fucking bright, you idiot, I can't see where the hell I'm going!," Velocity shouted, half-way under a cardboard box full of now-broken lightbulbs.

"Well, yes, that's sort of the point," the IllumiNazi explained patiently. "I have these welding goggles on, so it's no problem. All my men do as well. You, you pathetic hero, have nothing. I win."

"Not yet, fiend," came a cry from the other end of the warehouse. Armsmaster nearly dropped his halberd, Velocity stopped grousing and rubbing his knee, Miss Militia reflexively formed the biggest fucking gun anyone had ever seen and pointed it in that direction, and the IllumiNazi cried out in rage.

"The Amy!" all the mooks yelled in what sounded like raw fear. "IllumiNazi, it's The Amy! We must flee," the senior mook cried out.

"Too late for fleeage, you racist bastards," The Amy shouted defiantly, standing on top of a pile of boxes. Armsmaster looked at her, wondering where she'd come from, then his eyes tracked downwards to see a box on the floor was now upside down and empty. He smacked his forehead. Oldest trick in the book and he'd even walked right past it.

"Stand and fight," The Amy carried on, flicking her hands which resulted in an indestructible FamTech® Tac-Smack™ collapsible baton snapping out from each of them with an unpleasant click sound that echoed around the suddenly silent warehouse. "Your reign of excessive and inappropriate lighting ends here. The Amy decrees it to be so."

"Even you can't hope to take on over thirty IlluMinions single handed, The Amy," the metal-suited villain said.

The Amy smiled unpleasantly.

"Single handed?" she said sweetly.

The lights went out.

All of them.

"Oh, god, she's here as well?" Armsmaster could swear he heard Velocity mutter. He felt much the same. After what happened last time…

He felt Miss Militia somehow find him in the dark, standing back to back with him. Both of them slowly turned, looking for even the smallest trace of light, without success.

Then the screaming started.

"Jesus Christ, my fucking nuts!" a voice howled in agony.

"EEEEE!" Another one wailed, the sound going up in pitch then dying in a rattle.

There were nasty meaty sounds from all around them, as well as intermittent noises that seemed reminiscent of something large and scaly scraping against the scenery.

One scream died in a crunch, followed by what he could swear were chewing sounds. He paled, breathing hard.

It was over in a surprisingly short time. A few minutes later the lights came back on, much less brightly, to reveal a pile of groaning bodies, most of them curled into a fetal position and holding parts best not mentioned, pale and sweating in agony.

The Amy was standing on top of the pile, posing with one baton over her head ready to strike and the other diagonally across her chest to block a blow. She glared at the IllumiNazi, who was gaping at her. "The Amy will only ask once. Yield, or perish."

He looked frantically around. None of his men were standing. Armsmaster and Miss Militia watched with awe, while Velocity muttered to himself, rubbing his other knee. Apparently he'd tripped again.

"I..." The villain was obviously trying to work out what to do.

"The Amy feels it is only fair to tell you to look behind you."

He did, peering into the now dimly lit hallway that led to his only route of escape. Even from where he was standing, Armsmaster could make out a dull gleam of far more razor sharp teeth than he was comfortable with, all of them bared in a Nazi-eating predatory grin.

Slumping, the IllumiNazi dropped his sword and held out his arms. "I yield," he sighed.

Behind him, the teeth disappeared back into the darkness, from which came a quiet snigger.

"Wise of you," The Amy stated, performing an acrobatic back flip from her pile of defeated IlluMinions, to land easily in front of him. With a complex motion and a series of clicks, the batons vanished, then she casually clicked a pair of FamTech® No-S-Cape™ handcuffs around his wrists. "The Amy declares this villain captured. Protectorate heroes, you may take him into custody."

Armsmaster sighed and walked over, collapsing and stashing his halberd in the process. He neatly caught the key she flipped him. "Miss Dallon, this is becoming somewhat ridiculous, I hope you realize?"

"Nonsense, my good pikesman! The Amy thanks you for your aid, and bids you farewell." She waved, then headed into the corridor to the exit, vanishing into the darkness.

A moment later she reappeared. "Oh, Mom says thanks for the new comms system, by the way."

"You're welcome," he muttered, his hand over his face. "Please go away now."

"Bye, everyone!" she shouted, vanishing once again. In the distance, very faintly, he could hear a moment later the cry of "Hiho, Rap..."

"I damn well know I told you to stop that," a much deeper voice snapped.

"Sorry."

He stopped listening at that point, trying not to think about what had happened to the city he used to like.

Or hate.

Something like that.