Silhouette

Gangsters and lowlives of all sorts ran around screaming, scratching at their faces, or rolling on the ground in their mad attempts to chase away the flames that engulfed them, somehow shining brighter than the raging inferno that devoured the illegal casino they were all escaping from. Moans and screams roared from the pyre, the still living victims letting out all of their pain and suffering in a vain hope it might offer even a fraction of relief. It didn't.

A single man made it through the entrance door without any hint of any burn. Yet, his face was distorted by fear as he pushed his legs and muscles to the limit to run away as fast as he could, going around every single flaming husk that reached out for assistance that had once been either his goons or collaborators, some of which he had called friends. His decorated tacky clothes lost their luster some time ago, covered in ashes and soot, and for once the man obsessed with appearances and gilded items was satisfied with this scenario since it might hide him or his identity from the demon after him. However, his mind was far too preoccupied with panic at the moment to let this information leave the safety of his subconscious.

Of course, his escape was a fool's errand.

He couldn't make it past the middle of the road before a wall of fire that rose higher than any building in the street blocked his way, the curtain of flames widening until there was no escape left, leaving the man alone in his despair, the only thing louder than the roaring of the inferno's wrath being the steps that came closer.

Calming walking in the heart of the brazier of crumbling rubble that was a building mere moments was a man feared by all in this city, his silhouette being indistinguishable from a demon's. A body of black metal covered in the reflections of the world of embers surrounding it, with sleek limbs thin as bones and a waist that easily be grabbed onto with one hand. The figure seemed covered in spikes and covered in cinders, but a closer look revealed that in truth it was composed of dozens of plates overlapping each other, leaving small gaps to expose the burning heat within, the fire burning in the cyborg's chest shining through the surrounding blaze, a furnace of hate that fueled the rampaging destruction in its wake.

The man's head marked his height, slightly shorter than the average man, but this minute size discrepancy did nothing to dampen his presence. The metaphorical fire that burned in his blue eyes rivaled the worryingly real one in his torso, and his short dark buzzy gray hair fluttered along with the flames with the disputed air. The wrinkles on the exposed skin of his face weren't merely a sign of his age, but another way to express the scowl that littered his features. The mask that covered his lower face from the chin to the nose wasn't unlike an aviator's mask for pilots in military aircraft, though it lacked the eye-catching tube meant to ease breathing.

With each step forward the black feet of the man crushed the still-sizzling remains of the casino until they hit the concrete of the street, the ground melting into boiling footsteps as he got closer and closer until he reached the asphalt of the road. Flames crawled from his soles up until they licked at his knees as he began to speak, his deep raspy voice marked by a notable but not overwhelming Draskian accent.

"Dominik Herlein. You have attempted to make a fool of us."

The man trapped between the wall of flames and the master of the hell that had been unleashed on the mortal world went to his knee and begged, ignoring the way the heat spread through the asphalt scratching at his pants and knees, blood dripping down and beginning to bubble before it had a chance to form a puddle.

"Sunburn! I'm sorry! Look, I'll give you the names, just let me go! I have a family!"

"I do not need names. Moonfreeze and I tracked down each one of those involved in your little scheme. There is nothing you can say or do that will save you now."

"Wait! What would Marcus do?! Think about it!"

"If Marcus were here, you'd be watching your family be exsanguinated before being drowned in a bucket of their blood. He would only disapprove of my scorched earth policy for how merciful it is."

The Draskian man bent the knee to lower himself closer to the begging man's eye level before cupping Dominik's chin and cheek with one of his metallic hands, ignoring the way the flesh charred instantly and fell apart to reveal teeth and the mandible, the tears that fell down the mafia boss' eyes boiling instantly and scarring the skin from the sheer heat. The poor damned soul felt pain like never before, and yet something stopped him from interrupting or missing the words his tormentor spoke through his mask, mesmerized by the halo of terrible flames that engulfed them both and nipped at him.

"Be not afraid. All those years as a loyal customer have earned you a final boon."

Dominik couldn't ask what, his tongue was already gone. The final thing it could do was taste the overwhelming amount of ashes that filled his mouth, the remains of his empire, his minions, and his very own body.

"I'll make sure your family will be able to put you in an urn."

The black hand closed into a fist, but what met it wasn't the crunch of a shattering skull but the quiet sound of falling particles, grey grains of incinerated matter falling onto the large pile on the ground. One could be forgiven for doubting it ever used to be a man, for even those unlucky few who had been watching the scene from neighboring windows, who were just as trapped in the infernal wall as the main target of the cyborg, couldn't believe the ease with which a person became nothing.

The ashes rose in a twisted wind and poured themselves into a rectangular container attached to the thin waist of the master of the flames. Once all that remained of Dominik Herlein was secured in the metal box, he simply screwed the lid shut. The wall of fire that had trapped the deceased man bloated until it burst, leaving nothing but a rain of cinders. The cyborg resumed his walk, stepping away from the smoke and inferno as he reached for the small emblem on his chest over where a heart should be, a vaguely shield-like piece of metal featuring a skull crowned by a scarlet halo and crying trails of blood from the eyesockets housing two red dots, a mad grin on its skeletal features. The emblem came off without a hitch, still attached to the torso by a black curly wire, and he called.

"Sunburn, reporting."

A high-pitched energetic voice slightly drowned by statics answered.

"Sunburn! How goes the barbecue?"

"Moonfreeze. I have dealt with Dominik Herlein and his collaborators. The message should be clear."

"Yeah, yeah, I can see the news. There should be a Vigilante coming your way, by the by."

The words came just in time to punctuate the arrival of a silver figure floating in the air, radiating cold. It was humanoid in the loosest sense of the term, with digitigrade clawed legs covered in metal and flexible tubes that led to a bulky torso that featured both a pair of powerful arms ending in digits that turned into fearsome blades as well as a pair of wings that sent chilling winds down onto the flames as the entity kept itself airborne. Those flying limbs were the least organic parts of the creature, made not of feathers or leather but instead, jets linked together by articulate arms, positioned in such a way they mimicked true wings. They were assisted by a long powerful tail of coiled cables that was twice the length of the being, helping in keeping its balance judging by the way it moved. The final part of the biomechanical being was its head, a mockery of a dragon's visage, the vaguely distinguishable triangular features of the predatory creature being overtaken by bloated bumps caused by the machinery kept beneath its skin and flesh, grafted onto the bone. Truth be told, it was impossible to know if this was a mechanical entity enhanced by meat or an organic one equipped with artificial enhancements, and in both cases whether it had ever been remotely draconic in origin.

A shivering cry echoed from its throat, a twisted sound between an eagle's screech and the rumbling of metal, followed by a voice that struggled to be understood, overtaken as it was by groans and virtual echoes.

"Sunburn, master of flames. I have come from Kalen to further sharpen my skills as the lord of frost and cement my place as the sole savior my city needs. Now come, and fall to the blizzard of Boreal Beast!"

"Moonfreeze, is that idiot part of any group we should be concerned about?"

"Nope!"

Seconds later, all that was left in the street was the black cyborg and the charred carcass of a monster lying in a pool of melted metal and plastic.

"I hate pompous hotheads with more bravado than skill."

"Aw, man! You could have gone easy on the guy! I could have recycled some of that stuff for my whole freezing thing! It's in the name, ya know."

"You should have mentioned this earlier. Is there anything else you deem worth sharing before I return to base?"

"Uh... Kinda? A Patchee dropped by to deliver a message, if we ever need the spooky guy's help to deal with a dude named Silhouette he'd give us a discount. Well, so long as he got to get his grubby hands on the guy, but ya know how it goes with him."

"Do we have any reason to antagonize this Silhouette fellow?"

"Nah. From what the boys told me, the guy is a newcomer in the area. No beef with us, but apparently the wizards have a bone to pick. Remember the guy they kicked out, the one Abrakaboom really liked?"

"Yes?"

"That Silhouette dude kinda killed him. The magicians are in an uproar, from what we learned, and the old guy himself may go on a rampage any day now."

"Which could lead to Abrakaboom going down a self-destructive path, leaving Wicked Witchcraft without their guardian. This is a perfect opening for the Empress, the magic users wither and die on their own, she can attack the Hivines and repurpose them, and she's free to take over the city."

"Yup! So, who's in the mood for fried robots?"

"Has Marcus authorized this?"

"As if the boss wouldn't want to see the streets run red with blood."

"I did not hear a confirmation, Moonfreeze."

"Ugh. Fine, I'll go ask him, I'll be right back."

The cyborg spared a glance at the would-be vigilante's remains before turning his gaze to the sky, flames appearing from his closed fists and wrapping around his arms as he bent his knee. A blast of purple energy fell from above, its spherical core as large as a house with a tail twice that long.

With an uppercut from the Draskian, the magical projectile was blown to nothing but embers that turned the world orange from their glow.

A young woman with a witch's hat floated down from a nearby building, a black wand with a glowing purple tip in her hand. Her strange black and purple outfit, a mix of long flowing cloth and revealed skin with a theme of prestidigitation, screamed of a need for attention. The people of the city easily and happily indulged her. After all, who could ever forget and not love the greatest magical Hero of Zalcien?

"Miss Malice."

Sunburn rolled his cybernetic neck, the metal cracking in odd ways as a mantle of heat that distorted the air grew from his vents. His words were answered by a giggle from the diminutive woman, her free hand poorly covering her lips in one of her infamous poses. To her, the world was a game, at least until she felt her life was at risk.

It appeared he had to remind her it very much was.

Faster than the civilians watching from the relative safety of their homes could perceive, the cyborg was off. His foot had pressed so hard against the ground already weakened by his burning body during the events earlier it easily cracked, and shrapnel hotter than boiling water was sent flying everywhere. The man himself was covered in scorching red flames, his fist extended forward to meet the mage's torso.

In a pink flash she was gone, standing behind the inferno in a human shape, a protective magical bubble blocking the shrapnel from touching her or her designer clothes as she readied another spell, her wand twirling and drawing symbols in the air. Sparkles flew and an odd chyme echoed with her every gesture, a smile on her lips.

She had to flash away once more as pillars of fire erupted from beneath the ground, the cold eyes of the Draskian watching her as his arm was buried in the pavement. Every time she reappeared a new burst of flames went her way. Every time she had to reposition herself. Every time she had to abandon casting another spell to riposte and focus on defense or flight.

Every time, he had the upper hand.

At last pink and purple energies mixed in ribbons poured worth from her wand, and the criminal had to leap away from his spot to avoid the corrosive wave of magic that ate through the concrete as though it was snow in summer. Of course, leaping away from his position did not mean giving up his assault. Unable to teleport away due to her spell, Miss Malice was easy pickings for the cyborg. His burning fist hit her shield with a loud bang, and for the first time in this fight, panic reached her face as she stopped floating and dropped to the floor, barely avoiding the scorching touch of the black metal.

Her knees hurt and her clothes lost some fabric at the joints as she hit the ground and scratched the pavement, but now wasn't the time to worry about her attire. In another burst of pink light, she was gone. A nanosecond later, a black foot stomped down where she had laid, its force and heat breaking through the ground until it was buried up to the knee. The woman chuckled as she reappeared casually floating in the air, a smug look on her face as she looked down at Sunburn. That is until she realized the upper half of her witch's hat was gone, a still burning orange descending from the missing spot and threatening to ruin her hair. Her hand snapped to the accessory and threw it away with no hesitation, leaving the perfect opening for the man to free his limb.

"Sunburn! Do you have any idea what this hat cost? You owe me, you fiery oaf."

A torrent of flames rose from his open palm into the skies. The air turned red, and none in the street could withstand to keep their eyes open. It wasn't their brain's instinctive understanding of the risk of blindness that forced their hand, but rather the sheer heat that threatened to cook their eyes in their sockets. A cloud of hateful fire robbed this part of the city of the natural and kinder sunlight, and it was slowly spreading. The cyborg closed his hand and stopped fueling the blazing disaster above, only for the witch to reappear by his side.

"Ts ts ts, now, now, Sunburn, did you think letting out your anger would catch me off-guard?"

The Draskian looked her in the eye, cold blue meeting mysterious purple. His arm rose, his palm open, but not towards her.

Her eyes widened as she let out a squeak, realizing his plan.

"Oh, no."

She teleported away, reappearing exactly in front of where he had been aiming his next blast of inferno.

The closest house.

The flames were brighter and their flow stronger as hell was unleashed, the blazing torrent meeting a solid wall of purple magic. The heat kept rising as the construct of the witch slowly was pushed back.

And then he raised his other arm.

The light of the fire grew too fierce for anyone to see. Seconds later it dissipated, revealing the blackened yet intact building that would have been engulfed by the inferno had it not been for the witch's actions. The woman herself had disappeared, with no trace of her left behind. That is, until a bolt of magic hit Sunburn in the back of the head, prompting him to turn around and witness Miss Malice floating as usual, taking on a pose that made the absurdly long pieces of fabric that hung down from her white bustier like a parody of a tailcoat flutter in the air, a smirk on her purple lips. For all her projected confidence, it was hard to miss the droplets of sweat that ran from her forehead, as well as the way her chest moved frantically in a desperate search for breath.

"Nice try, Villain, but-"

His scorching black metal fist met her stomach, and she was sent flying through a dozen walls in four different buildings like a meteorite. When she came to she was buried in a crater in what likely used to be a bathroom judging by the tiles and the leaks, with a gaping hole in her torso that was larger than her head, the flesh within charred and cauterized shut, the bones of her ribs and spine missing.

"Well, that's not pleasant."

Purple magic poured from her wand onto the fatal wound, weaving odd patterns that covered the hollow spot. The glowing facsimile of bandages was quite eye-catching, doubly so with how much of her it covered, but it would let her keep on fighting a little while longer. The improvised healing was finished just in time for the dark silhouette of the cyborg to appear in the corner of her eye, the terrible flames surrounding him having grown so powerful she could no longer distinguish any of his features through the light and heat bar the metal of his body and the furnace in his chest.

"Did your mother never teach you not to melt holes through ladies, dear? That's awfully rude."

The only response to her taunt was yet more fire filling her vision. She flashed away and reappeared next to the man this time, a very wise decision judging by the beam of concentrated heat that cut the world in half behind the Draskian. Ethereal water dropped from her wand and grew into tremendous waves that roared and crashed into the burning man, the magically produced liquid bubbling and boiling unit it was naught but froth before it could make contact.

A step's worth of floating to the left to avoid a fireball. Another to the right. Up. Down. Left. Up. Right. Launch another spell. Right. Right. Up. Spell. Bubble. Up-

She flinched and winced as cinders and molten cement fell on her from the ceiling, the family home burning past the point it could be comfortably fought in for anyone not immune to flames. The moment of distraction was enough for Sunburn to reach once more. This time she managed to form enough of a shield to soften the blow and protect her body from further damage. It did little to keep from being sent flying through hard surfaces once more.

Her floating spell saved her from landing in a heap on the bubbling asphalt, mineral blisters growing and exploding into splashes of scalding orange liquid, but she was hurt by the travel nonetheless. Her body and clothes, once pristine, were covered in cuts and burns, not to mention the black and grey of the surrounding ashes. If she were to be honest with herself, Miss Malice would likely collapse the moment she tried using her legs instead of defying gravity.

As though a vision of the apocalypse, he arrived soon after. The infernal aura draping him was more dawning than ever before, and she couldn't fight back the slight shaking in her hand as she raised her wand. Words of bravado left her lips, but neither were fooled by the projected confidence.

"You think this will be enough to take me down? Ah! As stupid as ever, my dear Draskian."

A portion of the hellish power that covered Sunburn coalesced into a javelin in his hand, and he aimed for a throw. The shaft of blazing hate, taller than her, was a concentrated portion of his fire, and she knew it would pierce through her defenses with ease. Worse still, she wouldn't be able to teleport away for at least a minute or two.

Fine. If this body was doomed to fall, at the very least she could make sure he would be too weak to continue his rampage.

The cyborg pulled back his arm as he readied himself. Any second now.

But the projectile never came.

Daring to pass through the infernal mantle of the Draskian, a large bulky blue mechanical hand, easily as wide as a human's torso, had snatched Sunburn's limb and held it back. A second hand braved the flames, a fist that went directly to the Villain's face. The man was pushed back, the power behind the hit and his heat digging glowing lines in the pavement.

Away from the fire's blinding presence, the witch's savior became fully visible. It was a robotic construct, a being composed of five orbs, four roughly the size of large beachballs that served as the hands and feet, with minute mechanisms to reveal toes and fingers and other hidden gadgets, while a fifth one that could rival a car served as both its torso and head, a simplistic smiling face behind included in its design on its uttermost part, roughly where the hatch allowing someone to slip in was. Miss Malice couldn't be certain if her colleague was actually within the mech or not, but either way, she appreciated the helping hand, late as it was. Maybe she'd even spare him from his lesson on punctuality. If he was nice, that is. And begged for forgiveness. And had a lot of chocolate. Maybe a coupon for a spa day too.

"Magic girl, sorry for missing the party. Hey, is that a hole in your stomach or a new diet?"

Nope. He was getting cursed as soon as this was over.

"Mecha Man, didn't your parents teach you not to leave a lady waiting, especially when she was fighting a threat to the city?"

"Sure, but they told me not to play with fire, either."

The robot banged its fists together as the voice with a static echo spoke, and its friendly smile suddenly took on a much more mocking tone as it faced the silhouette in the flames.

"And right now, I'm about to have a lot of fun with it."

The slender black limb of the Draskian rose, a scarlet flicker appearing between its digits. Before whatever he was preparing could be finalized, the voice of Moonfreeze suddenly shouted out once more from the radio on his chest.

"Alright, Sunny! Marcus is all in for breaking the Empress' expensive toys. So? Anything special going on?"

His cold blue eyes, hidden from his opponents by the fury of the blazing power enveloping him, stared at the two Heroes for several seconds in silence. Neither side, not even Mecha Man despite his little quip, dared to end the tense peace that had resulted from his arrival.

"Moonfreeze, can we afford to battle two members of the Hero Top Trio? Not fully powered up, either of them."

"Uuuh... Nope. Sorry dude, we're stretched a little too thin right now. Next time though, I'm kicking their butts with you!"

"Understood."

The scarlet glow that had begun to grow in his hand disappeared, and he let his arm drop back down to his side.

"You are in luck, you two. I have bigger fish to fry rather than finish this."

The Hero controlling the blue armor scoffed through his mic, and the witch floating in the air by his shoulder shook her head as she sighed.

"Sunny, I think you're not getting it. You're under arrest, so we're not letting you get away!"

The figure in the fire tilted his head and pointed up.

"Are you, now?"

The two Heroes looked to the sky. Panic quickly invaded their very souls as they were reminded of the scorching cloud the cyborg had created when he had fired up, the cataclysmic cumulus glowed like a furnace, coloring the very world orange in the middle of the day. Suddenly the still phenomenon grew agitated, and before either of the two could think of an immediate solution, things became even worse. In a terrible mimicry of a solar storm, strands of hellish heated energy began to leave the greater mass and descend. The tendrils of burning death would doubtlessly annihilate all in their way, and the cloud above had grown to cover multiple streets.

"Mecha, call the others, now. I'll hold it off as best as I can."

The suit didn't react, a sign the man controlling it, whether he was inside or not, was following her instructions. She gathered all of the magical power still available in this flesh vessel and prayed to all gods she knew would listen and might lend a hand that Firefighter would drop by quickly.

Purple light erupted from her wand like never before today as she fell, no longer fuelling the spell that kept her afloat. She ignored the pain as she hit the still-hot ground. She paid no attention to the blisters that formed on her skin. The way her hair charred and turned to ashes down to the roots was completely missed. She only focused on her wand. On her magic. On protecting.

Power surged forth, and rather than a stable dome, what the purple and pink strands of magic weaved together formed was a spiritual mirror to the storm above. Tendrils of mercy and justice rose to entangle the blazing tentacles from above. Though weaker, her creations were enough to keep the greater disaster at bay, redirecting them into the open air and each other to save the surrounding buildings, even if some were already burning from previous events of the battle.

Neither of the Heroes could stop the Villain who simply walked away.