The room was dark, the only source of light being the flickering bulb above you. You were tied down to a chair, unarmed and fairly beaten from an earlier fight.

Standing before you was the threat itself; Fowler Radcliffe. In his hand was your mask -your other identity you faked. Quiet, his eyes set on you as if calculating you. Even with that stoic look, there was a subtle hint of surprise in his eyes.