<div style="text-indent:1em;">One could lose themselves in this work, he thought to himself. If they could could, his thoughts would be followed by the small, dry smile that only comes after the most delicious sarcasm.</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">Unlike most of his colleagues, Hardich almost always worked at his desk. It was relatively small, as was the room, and was only garnished with a lamp, simple BIC pens, and a single pad of yellowed paper.</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">Today, a pleasantly cloudy day, he found himself examining some twenty body photos from various homicide scenes. Of course, in order to make its way to him, the case had been deduced to be unsolvable and tucked away in some dark corner. And if he considered what littered his desk as his fifth and last case for the day, eighty-seven beige folders had been re-filed under his direction. For some reason, though it did not challenge him, he found it intensely amusing to solve the "unsolvable" in his free time. From the fifteen minutes or so he spent staring at these glossy pictures of rearranged limbs, he could find only one reason that this would even be here; pure laziness. There was little more he could offer to the case, and as the pictures revealed to him, there were multiple chances to catch the serial killer. While there had been no murder weapons and no prints on any of the bodies, he figured, given the height of the killer, of which he deduced from the angle of the various knife wounds, there would be at least some incriminating evidence somewhere on the ceiling or doorways, neither of which had been checked. Therefore, in short time, he piled the pictures back up, along with the case information, and put it back where he found it. If the idiots couldn't spend just a little bit more of their time...</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">And then the more interesting caught his attention. The small light mounted opposite him in his wall, a few feet above his desk, flashed with a dull red light. For him, that was a summons. And with that small light came a slight rush. Something fun awaited him, something he could do.</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">Quickly, as it was the end of fall, he grabbed his hoodie from the hanger to left of his door and exited with a quick step. He pulled it onto his shoulders as he went down the hall and flipped the hood over his head. In general, he wore the black cotton because the light sometimes hurt his eyes when he ventured out of his cave. But, as he made his way to The Circle, a nickname name for the main conference room, he was thankful for the extra shielding. Various people, the majority being the younger and lower ranked heroes, lounged around and did very little except talk. And he was a perfect opportunity to do just that.</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">When he left high school and came here, he thought that perhaps he would escape the rumors that seemed to stalk him. But, here was no different than anywhere else. It didn't matter with whom he conversed, everyone profiled him on sight. Eventually, he stopped trying. It was painful some days, but he tried his hardest to take it as a blessing. At least this way, he reasoned, he would have fewer distractions.</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">The Circle, when he reached it, was obviously in heavy use. The door was slightly ajar, and as he stepped into the room, he was met with a harsh barrage of unintelligible sound. It would seem I work with zoo animals, he thought. The room wasn't very large, and was predominantly taken by a circular, bone white table. Currently, the table was crowded by at least half of the Team Leaders. He stood in the corner awkwardly and closed the door as at least thirty men and women argued over something displayed on a projector, obscured to his view. He couldn't even start to understand what all the commotion was about.</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">It was a terrible five minutes before the Supreme, sitting at the front, finally began to force the cacophony back into reason. With a raised hand, the gray haired man stood, facing opposite the projector screen. When all were quiet and at least a small portion of order seemed to return, he cleared his throat and spoke, softly.</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">"Now then, if you are all settled. I think it is fair to say, my good Captain," the Supreme said, addressing a very large middle aged man who sat just to his right, "That this is indeed the work of Villains Incorporated. However," he continued, turning to face the rest of his staff, "I find it to be more important that this seems to be the work of telepathy." Even before his lips closed, the chaos started to return. Quickly, as he knew it would be impossible soon, Hardich concentrated on the projector screen. From an above view, a Caucasian man with short black hair could be seen laying in a medical bed. To the right, Hardich examined the man's report. He was able to read that he was the CEO's assistant at a company named Vexis, a biochemical weapons producer. Apparently he'd been found a few days ago, and while he was alive, he'd been reduced to a vegetative state. Unfortunately, that was all Hardich was able to read. Rather violent conversation started to go between the assembled heroes, and one very tall woman with long blonde hair, somewhere near the back closer to Hardich, rose to her feet and took a spread stance, visibly preparing herself bellow. She didn't get the chance.</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">Though he felt none of it, Hardich could only describe the following event as powerful. All around him, men and women grimaced in pain. To them, it seemed a halo of light, too bright to look at or even think about, shattered through the room through their minds. It cut the ceaseless chatter to the quick. A few clutched their heads, and those that were not sitting fell to the ground as their limbs ceased to function. The Supreme, who now held his hands up, was staring at nothing and everything with completely white eyes. His mouth opened, and though the world would hear his soft voice, all in the Circle, excepting Hardich, experienced the roar of a dragon.</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">"YOU WILL LISTEN TO ME, NOW! I WOULD HAVE YOU KNOW THIS, AND I WOULD HAVE YOU KNOW THIS, NOW. WHAT YOU WOULD SEE, AND FAIL TO UNDERSTAND, IS THE EXISTENCE OF A VILLAIN CAPABLE OF POWERFUL TELEPATHY. HE IS TO BE FEARED, AND HIS ACTIONS MUST BE FEARED. YOU MUST, AND YOU WILL, COLLABORATE TO SEE THIS NEW THREAT EXTERMINATED."</div>