Marvellous

Pilot

10:45h
   Present Day
New York City
   United Savings and Trust
Hostage Situation

   "YOU THINK WE'RE JOKING?!? IF YOU DON'T GIVE US WHO WE WANT, THERE'S GOING TO BE BODIES DYING!!" A painted mask shouted, holding a scared senseless hostage and a weapon at their head.
   "Jesus, how many are in there?" SWAT 12 asked.
   "SCTV showed about half a dozen innocents, not sure who's who as everyone is in a mask." SWAT 3 said.
   "How much longer do you think until someone shows up?"
   A neon violet blur appeared in a whoosh.
   "In a few seconds." SWAT 3 replied.
   "It's alright boys, you can stand down. I'll have this mess cleared out before you can sneeze..." Neon Jet said and vanished into the building.
   "Great, the Defectives. Now it's going to be a real shit show." SWAT 11 commented.
   "It's Defensers, meatshield," Maw said, "show respect, or I'm getting another meal..."
   SWAT 11 glared from behind his face shield.

   The criminals inside were frantically trying to get a safe box opened as quickly as possible, when the sound of fabric folding fluttered and there was a new number among them.
   "Hello there..." Neon Jet said, before the criminal. "Not the best idea you had today, was it?"
   She was in front of him centiseconds before he blinked.
   "How did you...?"
   A flash of violet and the hostage he was holding was no longer breathing.
   "Murder is illegal, didn't you know?" She said casually.
   She phased through him, making sure to perform a cardioectomy before appearing in front of the next goon, who immediately opened fire, but instead of hitting his intended target, he gunned down all their remaining hostages.
   "That wasn't a smart move, you wasted all your bullets." She said, then threw the still-beating heart at him before palm striking his sternum, crushing his chest. "Just remember, you're the ones who caused this to happen..."
   The last thing the last goon saw in this life, was a pair of acrylic fingernails popping out his eyes.

   "We're done here, Maw, let's head back to HQ, and see if we can get something better than schlub work."
   "But... I'm hungry..." Maw said, his wicked long tongue licking his slavering chops.
   "We'll get something on the way back, now let's go..."

   The duo signaled they were finished and were walking away before they can be questioned; the police, SWAT and EMTs were going over the mess that was left behind.
   "Wasn't that guy a villain?" SWAT 11 asked.
   "Rehabilitation courses, he's not a villain anymore, but that doesn't mean much these days..." The Detective said, looking at the massacre. An almond-shaded hand felt the thick mustache on his lip. "Was there any negotiation attempt?"
   "We tried, but all they wanted was some hero to come in and talk to them." SWAT 1 said.
   "So, Neon Jet just appeared, and ended the situation? Where's the security room?" The Detective asked.
   "Being secured by the Association, you know how they are when one their own are involved..."
   A gust of wind blew through the lobby.
   "Dammit. There goes another chance of nailing those so-called Hero Associates."
   Another gust of wind blew through.

   Observing the scene was a hooded figure, holding an oversized envelope, he turned down an alleyway, out of sight of the scene, and vanished.

* * * * * *

0:43h
   Lincoln
The United Defensers Hub District
   Block 90

   A black luxury sedan pulls up to the Sharp's Building, Neon Jet steps out, with two attractive ladies on each arm, an entourage of bodyguards flanking her to ensure her safety, though with the somewhat lack of people around to take candid photos and no journalists demanding answers or interviews from her, she felt like a nobody. What bothered her most, she had a distinct feeling that she was being watched, maybe even spied on...
   Moving through the restrictive corridor to the elevator, she presses the button for her designated floor. Getting intimately comfortable with her guests, she then plans to spike their drinks with something "special" to have this night go according to plan.
   The moment she entered the elevator, a hooded figure appeared from the alley beside the bank, and he just quickly and fluidly knocked out the guards before entering the building himself. He looked at what floor the elevator stopped at and took to the stairs.

   "So as I was saying, baby, I was the only one left in that gruesome encounter, try as hard as I could, but I wasn't in time to save everyone..."
   "I could've done it three zeptoseconds, and not have killed anyone," A gravelly voice said.
   "...and I was just about to-what?? WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!?"
   An envelope flapped to the table, otherwise uninteresting, except for the wreathed Nazi Swastika.
   "If you ever bothered to do any actual investigation, rather than jump in and power move everyone to death as you often do, you might've been able to uncover the reason why that savings trust was targeted, and that they were asking for me...specifically"
   A neon violet fist appeared within centiseconds after he spoke, but he saw it coming faster than she could move. He stepped aside, as the would-be super stumbled and tripped.
   "Ladies, out..." He said, and the ladies of the night were quick to leave. "Smart move, shorting out the security cameras before entering the building, covering your tracks before you even make them. I paid a visit to the main office, and they were more than willing to help me out with my problem, after a few weeks of intensive care, when their jaws healed, they may be willing to talk to a few people. And you call yourself a hero..."
   "I am a hero, you dick!!" Neon said and lunged at him with a high-powered Roundhouse.
   He easily blocked, then grabbed her ankle, and tossed her across the room with extreme force.
   How ironic, she says she's the hero, and she just allowed several people to die and has no remorse.
   She spun around and went in for a knee jab. Her attack landed, but it felt like she hit something immovably solid. She lunged at him again with blinding speed, to stab him down with her talons, faster than lightning, speed upon speed she could multiply thousands of times over in heartbeats.
   Speed to him that was way too slow, it was like watching molasses flow uphill.
   "You're no hero," He side-stepped and brought up his foot for her face to smash into, "you're a murderer and a pawn," he grabbed her by the neck and slammed her into a wall, and then back into the floor, "and you're expendable..."
   She grabbed his arm with her legs, and his wrist with her hands, and focused all of her power on frying his body to a charred husk.
   The only thing that fried was the sleeve of his hoodie, revealing an overly developed and very powerful arm.
   "Are you trying to tickle me? By all means, do try..."
   She poured out all of her power, all of her strength, everything she had, and it still wasn't enough to singe the hair on his knuckles.
   "W-what are you? What do you want from me?" Neon asked, defeated.
   He dropped the hood and made her eyes widen in pure fear.
   "Y-you!?" She blanched.
   "I want to send a message to your bosses, and I'm sorry for the inconvenience..." And the last thing she heard in this life was the snap of cartilage and bone.

* * * * * *

   He was a hero once, a Superhero. The greatest one that ever happened to this world. He was the one who set the bar, fighting Nazis, fighting the Cong, and even fighting violently hostile aliens seeking to pillage and rape this planet. He was the first and the greatest.
   Now it seems that bar has been dropped significantly to fill some political quota.
   Used to be 'save as many as you can, all of them preferably' but now? It's looking a lot more like 'leave no witnesses, guilty until proven innocent' and 'just forget about telling them your end of the story' and let the cleaners mop up. When you live in a world where one can't tell the heroes from the villains, there's a serious problem.
   The problem is that you can't tell who's going to kill you harder, if they're even going to let you live, or if they're going to let you go only to have you die anyway.

   He was a superhero once.
   The greatest the world has ever seen since.
   He was then asked to step aside if he wasn't going to play along with the status quo as it had changed.
   Bad deeds are commended, and fighting for truth and justice, without a sponsor, is now a felony offense. Budding crime fighters are hard-pressed to stand up against the bullies and professional scumbags who had found their calling in picking on lesser people, Metahumans discovering their powers and abilities are now ordered by law to register themselves, or never flex their powers, ever.
   Now he is just the oddball who drinks coffee and waits for the next incident, politics be damned. He a constant vigilant in doing what he does best, now with extra steps.
   He made his way to the back of a Super Saver, to the customer restroom, and locked the door, then began scrubbing his bloodstained hands...

   Blood circling the drain was then accompanied by knocks on the locked door, repeated, sporadic knocks, and it reminded him of... of gunfire...