If you told Mark Martin that he was going to have superpowers 14 days ago, he would have told you you were crazy. After the Empire Event however, he saw that things weren't as simple as he once thought. After the explosion in the Historic District in Empire City, things went to hell. A group in Historic District called the First Sons rose from the shadows and took over. In the Warren, the Dustmen. And in the Neon, the Reapers.

The First Sons were led by a mysterious man, no one knew who he was. Mark wanted to put an end to him though, the first thing he would do with his new found powers was kill this son of a bitch. The only problem was, where was he going to start?...

The day of the explosion Mark had been at his best friend's house. John Redfield, who survived the explosion, was always the brains. He did things that people at Harvard couldn't even do, he built a working, and 100% safe, nuclear reactor. The whole apartment building he lived in ran off of it.

Mark had come to watch the Sunday night football game, same as always, when there was a knock on the door. John walked to the door and opened it, it was a bike messenger. He thanked god that someone had opened the door, explained he had been going door to door trying to get directions to Warrington Park. John told him that it was literally around the corner, just go right out the door and take the first right and he would see it. Mark saw something blue glowing in the man's pack.

John closed the door and sat back down, grabbing a beer from the cooler and putting his feet on his coffee table.

"You would think," John had said. "That a bike messenger, who's job is to go where ever he needs to be, would know the city like the back of his hand."

Mark had agreed and laughed with John, the Jets just made a touchdown on the Cowboys. John and Mark cheered, and just as their cheers died, screams started outside. They looked out the window in time to see a great blue ball of electricity when the building shook, and the nuclear reactor in the basement exploded. Mark and John were greeted by a piece of the ceiling to their heads...

Mark woke up in a small crater, John stirring beside him. There was a helicopter flying overhead and Mark heard it say:

"Hey, there's someone alive down there! Hey, wave up if you can hear me! If you can walk, get out of there, head for the bridge!"

"Bridge?" Mark managed to mutter. "The... the Fremont Bridge..."

Mark got up, surprisingly, with no problem. He got John up and put an arm around his waist while he got one of John's arms around his shoulders. He walked, dragging John along with him, toward the bridge. Just then he saw lightning strike in the general area of the bridge, heard an explosion, and heard the screams of what he assumed to be the cops.

Mark picked up the pace, faster, and faster. He had to get across the bridge before it was destroyed by this random thunder storm. He turned the last corner and saw cops being electrocuted, cars being demolished by the lightning. And then he saw him, for the second time, the Bike messenger. He didn't know how he knew from this distance, but he did. The messenger was struck by lightning, but instead of dying, he seemed to... to be more powerful! There was a fat man with sunglasses and an Elvis Presley hairdo standing with him. The bridge started to raise, John saw a man in armor at the control panel.

Mark looked around, the Historic District was almost completely destroyed. That explosion sure did make a dent.

A dent! Mark thought, his mental voice barking with laughter. It's a fricken crater! It's all that Bike Messenger's fault! I bet it was that glowing blue thing, whatever it was. And how did me and John manage to survive when a building collapsed on top of us?

Mark realized there was no way out of this part of the city, he adjusted his grip on John and dragged him toward where Mark's apartment stood... hopefully...

They were in luck, Mark's apartment was a block away from where the crater ended. It was pretty banged up but who was he to complain? He had a home, and more importantly, his life. He got life and a home, most people weren't even lucky enough to get the first one.

Mark got upstairs and laid John, who was just coming too, on the couch. Mark explained what had happened and what he had seen, when his story was done John's face was pale and when he spoke his voice was shaky and hoarse.

"Christ Almighty," he said, putting his hand on his forehead. "You said the Bike Messenger was struck by lightning?"

"Yeah," Mark said. "He didn't even go to a knee, he just... he just kept going..."

"My god," John said, sitting up with a grimace. "You think he had anything to do with this?"

"Well, yeah. When he was asking for directions I saw something glowing blue in his pack. The explosion was blue, its only common sense to blame this guy."

"Do you think he was aware he was carrying a bomb? He didn't look as if he were the terrorist type, he showed no signs of nervousness. Every suicide bomber you see out there has signs, the jitters they call it."

"Well maybe he knew he was going to survive, he did after all."

"I don't know, but maybe we should hit the hay, man. I'm sore, and its just gunna get worse."

The next day things did indeed get worse, much worse in fact. The First Sons had stepped up patrols around the city, anyone who looked even mildly dangerous is shot on sight. Mark woke up feel 100% fine, and apparently so did John. Mark woke up to John's cries for him to come see something. When Mark got into the livingroom of his apartment he saw his new roommate holding the couch over his head.

"Whoa!" Mark exclaimed.

"My contact fell from my hand and under the couch," John explained excitedly. "I just wanted to lift it enough for me to reach under it and it came up like a feather instead!"

He put the contact into his eye and quickly took it out.

"Dirt?" Mark asked.

"No," John replied, suddenly very serious. "I don't think I need them. Everything is clear without them, and blurry with them in."

"Dude," Mark said, "You're, like, a super hero!"

"You're right dude, I wonder what else I can do?"

"Let's try!" Mark said, making towards the door. He made a grab at the door too fast, he was going to slam right into the door and look like an idiot. He closed his eyes, bracing for impact, but none came. Mark opened his eyes to find himself in the hallway, John ran over and opened the door.

"Whoa, you just went through the door!"

"Son of a bitch," Mark whispered, looking at his hands.

"Lets get downstairs," John said, and with a wink, added, "Last one down has to punch-and-ditch a First Son!"

John set off at a run. Mark, who had an idea, stood where he was. When John was out of sight Mark set off at a run towards the window, but instead of smashing through it he jumped through it as if it were open. He forgot how high his floor was and fell 5 stories, but landed as if it were 5 feet. John flew through the door a minute later, not out of breath or breaking a sweat at all.

"Dammit," he said, sighing. "Looks like I'm up."

Together they kicked off the ground and jumped