it was a warm Thursday afternoon, you were in your hero suit, walking and doing your patrols. it was about 6PM, a calm time where many villains don’t attack. the league usually go for the nighttime attacks. you hum a soft tune as you carry on walking, eyes darting for crime.

someone shwooshes above you, the large, vermilion coloured wings fly over you. fans flash over under him, simping and screaming all over him.. so annoying. he was such an arrogant bastard.

it was finally 7PM. you could clock off and go home. so you start to walk, the sun setting into the dark. flashing it’s purple and orange mix across the sky, like if you asked a five-year-old to paint. it was stunning though. until the moment being ruined by the bird-bastards voice himself