Pitter. Patter.

The steady drumming of rain echoed against the window as it filled the quiet room with its rhythmic sound.

The rain was by no means heavy, yet the figure remained in his cab and waited for the doorman of the building to come get it.

"..."

Eventually he came, easing the door open and popping the umbrella open for the figure, the doorman politely greeted. "Good evening Sir."

Although he didn't respond, he nodded as he rose from the car seat into the safety of the umbrella as they proceeded inside.

Short brown hair, creamy white complexion, blue eyes and clad in a suit that spoke of wealth.

• · ─ ·✶· ─ · •

Name | Wade Wyatt. / [ Alias: Invisiman. ]

Faculty of Soulcraft | Affinity: Invisibility.

Rank: Ascendant.

• · ─ ·✶· ─ · •

Once in the lobby, the doorman politely returned to his post leaving Wade on his way to the elevator.

"..."

He finally got to his apartment on the top floor, retrieved his keys from his coat pocket and eased the door open.

Floor-to-ceiling glass everywhere, the kind that makes the city look like it's posing for you, the skyline glows like a constellation pressed against the glass.

Stepping in, he didn't turn on the light but headed straight for the kitchen.

Matte-black cabinets, underglow lighting making it look like a spaceship counter. Induction hob, double fridge, and a side bar that degraded some clubs.

Sighing, he reached for the glass, dropped two cubes of ice in it and then bathed the entire thing with scotch.

Swirling it once before sipping lightly before finally paying attention to the figure, sitting, in his couch.

"You care to tell me who you are?" Wade asked, unfazed. "Or should I call the cops first?"

"..."

Aegon said nothing at first, arms on his knees and his eyes following Wade. "Is that really necessary, Invisiman?"

"So, you know who I am?" He answered, taking a swing of scotch. "That means you realise you broke into the apartment of a registered hero."

"You're not a hero." Aegon said coldly. "How can you even call yourself that after everything you've done?"

"Be specific, man." Wade hissed. "I'm getting bored of this already."

"How about the woman you assaulted when you were invisible," Aegon asked. "Is that specific enough for you?"

~CLINK!~

He set down the glass with a loud clink. Saying nothing, his hand inched under the bar for a button.

"It's already been disabled." Aegon stood. "Had to make sure no one interrupted our precious time."

'shit.' Wade's hand moved back to the surface, sweat beaded his forehead as he let his eyes move past Aegon to the, now, pouring rain outside.

No one would hear him if he screamed.

Screamed?

Why the hell would he scream? He was a licenced hero.

He bent low underneath the table and immediately began to take off his clothes as fast as possible.

He stripped completely bare in about ten seconds and stood in front of Aegon. "You're gonna regret ever coming here."

The rain-streaked skyline was the only witness as Wade Wyatt vanished.

One moment he stood, pale and bare in the gloom of the apartment, a smirk on his lips. The next, he was gone, leaving only a slight warping of the air, a heat-haze distortion that shot to the left.

Aegon didn't move. His eyes tracked the subtle ripple in the ambient light, the way a barstool's reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window briefly fragmented. He felt the displacement of air more than saw it.

"You think you can intimidate me?" Wade's voice echoed, condescending and disembodied, bouncing off the matte surfaces. "I'm a hero."

The first blow came from behind—a hammer-fist aimed at Aegon's kidney. But Aegon had already shifted, the force glancing off his shoulder.

He spun, a controlled arc of flame roaring from his fist, not at where Wade had been, but at where he would be. The fire washed over the sleek kitchen island, blackening the stone.

A shimmer of refracted light darted back, and a laugh echoed.

"Cute. My skin's diamond solid, kid. Your birthday-party tricks just warm me up."

Aegon stayed low, arms up, knees bent. He listened. The soft pat of a bare foot on polished concrete near the sectional sofa. The almost imperceptible rustle of air from a movement too fast.

Wade struck again, a vicious jab at Aegon's temple. This time Aegon took it, rolling with the impact that rattled his teeth.

The price of information.

As the invisible fist recoiled, Aegon's hand shot out, not to block, but to grab. His fingers closed not around a wrist, but around a solid, diamond-hard forearm.

He yanked, off-balancing Wade, and drove a knee upward with brutal precision into the space between the tugged-forward legs.

It connected with a sickening, soft thud.

A gasp of agony, tangible and real, broke the silence. The shimmering distortion wavered, stumbling back. "You little—!"

Wade's voice was strangled, raw. The condescension was now laced with real fury. He became a whirlwind, his movements less precise but faster, fueled by pain and rage.

Aegon became a defensive shell, forearms blocking strikes that felt like being hit with granite clubs.

A kick to the ribs sent him skidding across the floor, his back slamming into the glass wall with a shudder. The city lights swam.

"See?" Wade panted, his form still invisible but his location given away by his voice near the kitchen. "This is why you're not a hero. You fight dirty."

"And you are a hero?" Aegon pushed off the glass, tasting copper. "Is that what you told them while you were invisible?"

A guttural roar was his answer. The attack was a barrage. Aegon caught one wrist, twisted, and heard a satisfying crack, but a knee slammed into his gut.

He doubled over, and an elbow crashed down on his back, driving him to his knees. Stars exploded behind his eyes. He could feel a tooth loosening, the warm seep of blood filling his mouth.

Wade stood over him, the distortion shimmering with exertion. "I'm going to enjoy ripping you apart. Piece by piece."

Aegon looked up at the rippling air, at the blurry outline of a man standing triumphantly over him.

He gathered the blood in his mouth, mixed it with saliva, and with a sharp, spitting cough, he expelled it directly at the center of the distortion.

The crimson spray didn't hit diamond-hard skin. It hit the light-bending field itself, a microscopic layer of moisture over the invisible shell.

It clung, beading and streaking across an invisible chest, a shoulder, a face—painting a grotesque, bloody outline of a man.

Wade looked down, seeing the red droplets hanging in the air before him. "What—?"

Aegon saw it too. The outline of a head. He smiled, a bloody, broken thing. "Now I see you."

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