A young man, Alex Summers, sat drinking. He had been here for a few hours, gulping down one after another. But now, something was different, the rest of the bar was empty. He just continued to drink, not caring about the time, or the lack of others around.

Beer, an alcoholic beverage made from malted cereal grains (barley for example), flavored with hops and brewed by slow fermentation. But my definition of it, a pain reliever . . . The more I drink, the less I feel my stomach burning from within. You see, I'm a mutant, one of the deadly monsters "gifted" during birth with superhuman powers. "Gifted", that's a strange word, because I don't really feel that freaking "gifted". It's more like a punishment. Hell, my whole life has been a punishment. I was the only survivor of a plane wreck from before I could even remember, the newspapers said that I was "lucky". You know, that too is one of those funny words. "Lucky" by definition means producing or resulting in good by chance, favorable. You know, losing my family to a burning plane wreck and being tossed in an orphanage isn't quit my idea of luck. Whatever, everything's messed up. The world is screwed up, heading for hell. And when that happens, I'm just going to watch and laugh. Yeah, I'm just simply waiting for that day.

He heard an explosion from outside and a loud yell, "Show yourself, MUTANT!"

Alex took another sip, ignoring who ever was calling him out. Then, with a loud crash, the windows and front wall of the bar were blown off, sending glass all over the bar counter. A man in a metal suit, standing over ten feet tall, stepped through the rubble.

"Face me, mutant!"

Alarms were blazing, red lights flashed all over the place. They were being attacked; beings with superhuman powers were trashing the place. In a control room, one man watched it all. Douglas M. Carmody, the head of security.

"No!" Douglas pressed a button on the control pad. "Sector 3 needs back up, the teams already been taken out, I report Sector 3 needs back up. Also, Sectors 1 and 15 also need reinforcements! Quick, move it."

He pressed the button again and though to himself, Who are these people? What are they after?

"Sir," another security member said, "they seem to be advancing towards Senator Kelly's files. The ones on mutants."

Of course, mutants!

"Good job, I want at least fifty guards waiting for them! Armed and ready! No one leaves alive!"

Dirty mutants!

Alex shook his head, knocking little pieces of glass from his hair. He looked down at his mug, glass floating in his beer. He took a deep breath and slowly got up. He turned and threw his mug at the man.

"DICK!"

The mug smashed on the head of the metal suit, beer dripping down from it. Alex took off his leather jacket, and folded it on the barstool.

"You want a fight?" Alex asked, while pulling up his sleeves. "You got one!"

Fifty-five guards, armed and ready, waited. Two members of the terrorists were in an elevator shaft advancing towards them. Now, in just a few seconds, they would be taken out. Then, they entered the large room. All at once, the guns were fired, and they keep on firing. The female terrorist quickly jumped in front of the male. The bullets bounced off her. Some sort-of plasma blasts erupted from the male's body; the bullets were being fried in midair. The male then jumped in front of the female, with a smile on his face he began to take out the guards left and right. His eyes were like a madman. Blood poured from the mouths of some of the guards.

Carmody couldn't believe what he was seeing. Then the other monitors showed him that three others had already broken into the Record room. Talk about a bad night. Fires were spreading all around the complex, guards were down, broken and maybe dead. Then the two mutant terrorists joined the others in the record room, somehow locking the guards in the other room, with the fire. They wrecked havoc to the files, taking some, destroying others. Then made their escape. But the one with the plasma blasts, he sent one last message to the government. He shot up a few barrels, causing a chain reaction, which in-turn made the complex blow up in flames.

The man in the huge battle suit was shooting bullets towards Alex at an amazing rate. With ease, Alex ran across the room dodging them. He then shot behind the guy, releasing a powerful blast of burning plasma; which melted right through the armor. The armored man shot around, knocking Alex off his feet, then crashed both of his elongated arms into the ground, leaving a hung dent in front of Alex. Alex quickly got up and sent a plasma blast across the ground, knocking the heavy steel suit off its feet and onto the ground. He then jetted into the open streets, smoke filled the air and people were all over the place, running in fear.

Crap . . .

Slowly, the armored man got up and started to pound his way towards Alex. Alex just smiled and waited for him. Light was glowing around his hands, and in a split second, he shot two blasts across the street directly hitting the arms of the armored man, disabling the weapons on them.

"Ya wanna know what. There is only one way that I know of, asides from drinking, to stop the pain within me . . . "

Alex then moved towards the armored man, and shot out his legs. Smoke was filling the air, along with the sound of screeching metal. Alex took out a pack of cigarettes, and lit one up.

" . . . And that is to release the pain from my body!"

He then took a step onto what was left of his armored attacker, and shot out the front of the head revealing the guys face.

"Who the hell are you?" Alex asked, before taking another puff.

"Do . . . Doug . . . Douglas Ma . . . Douglas Car-mody . . . Why . . . ?"

"I just wanted to know . . . I hate bigots."

Alex blew a puff of smoke in the man's face, then simply smiled before releasing one last plasma blast, killing him.

The attack was over, the Complex was left in ruins. Douglas slowly emerged from the rubble and looked around. People were in pain, many dead, and then a figure approached him. It appeared to be a man, his body covered by metal, a cape draped from his back. Fear over came Carmody and he fell back to the ground.

"Do you wish to get vengeance for this attack? For your dead men? Their blood is on your hands if you choose not to!"

"Ve . . . vengeance?"

"Yes, I have the tools to locate he who has done this, and weapons to help you fight him."

"Weapons? The mutants? Yeah . . . I want vengeance!"

"Very well!"

Alex jumped off of the burnt armor and threw his cigarette onto the ground, stepping on it. He walked back into the bar and picked up his leather jacket. He took a few more steps, then realized that someone was behind him.

"What do you want?" Alex asked.

"Mr. Summers. I have a proposition for you."

Alex turned to see another man in metal, this one normal height, a cape draped to the ground behind him.

"I am Doom, and you have passed your test. So, I offer you a spot by my side."

"Test? What test?"

"The fool. You disabled and killed him much quicker then I would have thought. Now, I offer you a spot on my team, a spot to help overtake this world. To rule it how it is supposed to be."

Alex thought for a second and put on his jacket. He then walked closer to Doom, getting right in his face.

"Piss off!"

Sirens from cop cars filled the air. Doom turned to them, then turned back to Alex, but he was gone.

"Fool."

Doom presses a button on his belt, and is gone.