The city no longer looked up when the sky tore open.
Light split between glass towers. Shockwaves rolled down the avenues.
Traffic stalled. Civilians fled.
Above the intersection, a hero wreathed in blue light drove a villain through the air and into a suspended tram line. Metal shrieked. Sparks rained down.
On the sidewalk stood a man in a dark jacket.
He watched.
“Clear the streets!” the hero shouted, hurling debris aside.
People ran.
The man did not.
Light flared between them midair.
He watched longer than anyone else.
He looked back toward the street.
A villain, twisting from a heavy strike, fired blindly toward the street.
The air cracked.
A slow breath left him.
Long. Controlled. Empty.
The blast struck the pavement at his feet.
The concussion lifted him and hurled him into the brick wall.
The wall collapsed.
Dust swallowed the sidewalk. Bricks buried him.
“Civilian down!”
A hero broke from the fight and sprinted toward the rubble.
Three strides.
Two—
Lightning struck the pavement in front of them — a jagged line drawn between the rubble and the street.
The hero skidded to a halt.
The street went still.
Dust rose instead of falling.
A brick shifted.
Another.
The rubble trembled — low, deliberate. Small fragments lifted first.
Lightning spiraled from thin air around the rubble.
From the center of the wreckage, a body began to rise.
He hung suspended, limp.
Head bowed.
Arms slack.
Black armor formed at his boots, smooth and matte, panels edged in dark red. Gauntlets sealed with sharp metallic clicks. A chest piece locked into place with a deep compression.
Beneath the surface, molten-gold fissures shifted slowly and irregularly, like magma moving beneath stone.
Above him, a helmet formed — smooth, seamless, resolute.
It paused.
Then it closed over him.
The molten-gold fissures flared once — sharp and unified — then settled into their slow, constant motion.
For a fraction of a second, nothing.
Slowly, deliberately, the armored figure lifted his head.
Stillness held.
Two white lights ignited from the helm — steady and unblinking.
They did not flicker or narrow.
The being did not move.
Across the shattered intersection, a villain clad in dark relic-metal stared, fear tightening his expression.
Recognition struck.
He took a step back.
His heel caught broken asphalt. He stumbled, barely catching himself.
The words tore from him, loud and sharp with fear.
“An Elemental Lives.”