He looks like a regular young man. A little on the boyish side, with his pretty blue eyes and light brown hair that falls into it, but you know better. He’s not regular, not in any sense.

He can lift entire buildings with the flick of a finger, fly himself through the highest of clouds, and if he wants someone dead—all he has to do is think it.

He has quite the following. A cult, really. He’s a cult leader, the second coming of Christ to the gullible. You don’t buy it. You don’t buy him.