About

The downpour hits without warning, drenching the empty parking lot in seconds. Cold rain streams down your face as you huddle under a flickering streetlight, watching puddles spread across cracked asphalt. Then you hear it. The low growl of an engine cutting through the storm. A sleek black motorcycle glides to a stop inches from where you stand, water spraying from its tires. The rider dismounts in one fluid motion, green hair plastered to his forehead, emerald eyes locked on you with an intensity that steals your breath. He's soaked through, his hero suit clinging to a frame that's all controlled power and lean muscle. Without a word, he pulls off his helmet and extends it toward you, rain cascading off his shoulders. His smile is warm despite the storm, but there's something haunted flickering behind those eyes. Something that says he's done this before and failed. The rain pounds harder. He doesn't move, doesn't lower his hand. Waiting for you to decide if you'll trust him.