Civilians began to pour out slowly into the clearing, their faces darting upwards as he made his entrance.
He descended in a slow, controlled drop, landing smoothly on the ground.
With a swift motion, he dismounted the electrified surfboard and secured it behind his back, the device locking into place with a faint hum.
Everyone stared at him in shock as he spun around slowly, observing his environment.
He was tall, dark skinned with well maintained dread locks. His suit — a well fitted, skin tight attire with blue as the dominant color.
Intricate black designs and patterns formed other elements of the suit including a lightning shaped emblem shown on his chest.
"Uhhh... So much damage for one night..." He muttered.
The number of civilians grew by the second, the threat was dealt with so they deemed it safe to come out of their hiding place.
"Who would be so kind to point me in the direction the villain went?..."
Thunderlash asked turning to a large portion of the crowd. His entire demeanor had an obvious tang of immaturity.
Despite his age, Thunderlash— Devon Drake was ranked in Class B, Rank 17. It was pretty decent for someone who had no real meta-powers.
He rose to the ranks as a result of the legacy his brother left behind.
Jamal Drake.
One of the smartest minds to ever touch a pen in City D.
He graduated from the University Of Astro-Physics at the top of his class, and used the knowledge he gained to invent a special equipment that enabled him to manipulate electricity.
Driven by his never ending desire to be a recognized hero, he had hopes of being one of the very few people who became superheroes without any real meta-powers or enlightenment event.
Defying the age old rule that says that 'Superpowers is what makes a Superhero— Super'.
An opportunity presented itself before him to show case what he had been working on.
When a villain named Tech Armor, an ominous A-Class villain rampage through the city.
Jamal put on his gear without hesitation even knowing fully well that his invention was half baked and it would ultimately prove incompetent in the fight against Tech Armor.
Jamal died brutally as a result of his recklessness and his younger brother, Devon witnessed everything firsthand.
The experience inturn served as his own enlightenment event.
Devon picked up his brother's work from where he left off, spending hours at a time perfecting his invention.
After several failed attempts to stabilize the gear, he finally figured it out and so Thunderlash was born.
Now living the dream his brother once had, he never failed to maximize on every opportunity that presented itself to gain recognition.
A flurry of murmur and side talks erupted just as Thunderlash asked his question, it was like a gathering of circus clowns.
"Anyone... Anybody..."
Thunderlash asked again, this time with a hint of impatience in his voice.
"You have got to be kidding me! I missed The Premiere Of Xeron season two for this?" He blurted out.
One of the onlookers, a man of average age spoke up, "It... It wasn't you? I thought maybe you were that armored guy".
A surprised look immediately plastered over Thunderlashs face after hearing what the man said.
"What do you mean 'it wasn't you', bro I just got here... I did the whole entrance with my electricity and shit..." Thunderlash clamoured in response.
The onlookers continued their question filled murmur, their faces engraved with confusion.
"Hold up, what do you mean Armored Guy?" He turned to face the particular person that had relayed the information to him.
Another person spoke up abruptly. "Yeah! Some kinda man in this crazy golden armor! He just tore through that villain with a powerful beam of light and then he literally disappeared into thin air! I saw it with my eyes".
Thunderlash exhaled slowly, digesting the information.
He spun around to reveal Ant Goliaths corpse lying motionless over a greenish pool of thick fluid.
Walking briskly towards it and exermining the body with intense focus. Indeed, there was no way he was able to make a wound that perforated through the hard chitinous body.
He felt an odd sensation course through his body. Questions popping into his head in steady progression each one giving rise to more questions.
"What the hell...", He murmured to himself.
Turning his body away from Ant Goliaths corpse he instinctively flicked his wrist activating a blue holographic interface that materialized before him.
Data ran down the length of the holographic screen, his eyes scanning for anything that could explain the sudden death of a C-Class Villan with such brutal precision.
He scanned and scanned the ISA database for active threats, searching for which hero reported the neutralization of Ant Goliath.
To his surprise, no one claimed the kill.
He placed both hands on his waist as he tried to come out with an explanation for the situation.
His gaze flickered back to Ant Goliath's battered corpse. He acknowledged the power of this unknown force, this wasn't some reckless vigilante. This was someone strong.
"A rogue metahuman?", he said to himself.
Returning back to his holographic interface and a click of a few buttons:
"This is Thunderlash, Class B, Rank 17. I am reporting from Sector D on Dane Street in 25th Avenue"
"Where a C-Class Villan named Ant Goliath was detected. Fortunately, I have successfully neutralized the threat with no civilian casualties and minimal property damage"
"Requesting for a small unit of ISA clean up crew..."
"Awaiting confirmation... "
The screen flickered with bright, hovering notification. "SENT".
Thunderlash exhaled sharply, feeling a little tang of guilt creeping behind his back.
He was taking credit for a villain he didn't neutralize. It was dishonest, but every hero took every opportunity they could lay their hands on.
Some had connections, sponsors, guilds backing them. Others, like Thunderlash had to fight tooth and nail to climb. Especially after being in Rank 17 for such a long time.
This was a great chance, claim the kill. Gain the rank points.
***
ISA Headquarters — The Call Room.
"Affirmed, Thunderlash, Class B, Rank 17. Thank you for your service. Your save is logged, rank points awarded".
A holographic screen switched off as the call ended.
The room was dark, with sufficient space and a large solid screen mounted on the wall.
Several holographic monitors glowed with random information scribbled across their interface, the walks lined with high tech servers with little dots of either green or blue light flickering from them.
The end destination of all Villain takedowns were logged here. Calls for any villain sightings from the public were also directed here and Guilds were contacted for swift response by this medium.
The ISA's call operations center was always active 24 hours a day, all year round.
Seated at the center of the huge solid screen, a man in a sleek black suit leaned back into his chair. His sharp eyes stared at the screen as if aiming to burn a hole right through it.
He had a long, thin scar running from his brow down to his cheek and a mean, stern look on his face.
Another holographic screen flickered to life as he gently tapped a pad attached to the handle of his seat.
Images popped up, and he scrolled through them silently. Carefully studying each and everyone of them with intense focus.
Just then, the doors to the room slid open and a woman well into her forties entered the dimly lit space, walking purposefully towards the large solid screen, her hips swaying from side to side.
Her clothing— strictly professional.
Her silver-black hair was tied back with a sharp, professional style and she wore a sleek, dark suit layered with an elegant robe that marked her high status.
A well articulated feminine AI voice broke the eerie silence of the room as she walked in.
> ISA PRESIDENT: Viola Travis, Confirmed entry.
"Good Evening... Apostle", she greeted.