The night was hot and humid on this summer day.  It was the middle of July and the heatwave had already spread its effects across the United States, from the west coast to the east.

Two commonly burglars ran for their very lives on one of the streets in New York City. They just stole an old lady's purse. She was in her seventies and despite her age, she put up quite a struggle. But, in the end, the  younger attackers won the prize.    

They turned on Forty-Second Avenue and entered one of the alleys. Sitting down, the first of them, Rick, started to search through the handbag, while the second, Bob, just watched in contentment. He enjoyed seeing the prize, instead of stealing.

"Oooh, what have we here?" Rick said. "The old fart has lots of credit cards. Macy's, JC Penny's and Bloomingdale's. She must go shopping a lot, after she gets released from her nursing home. Haha." He opened her wallet and was impressed. "An' look at this money, here. She is a rich mother. Carrying a few hundred dollar bills is not that healthy. You never know who might steal it. Right?"

Bob stretched out his hand. "Hey, let me have a look,  bub!"

"No, 'bub'. It's mine. Y'know, finders keepers..."  Rick looked around. He could have sworn that he heard something. Nah, it was probably his weird imagination. "Y'hear that,  Bob?"    

"What?"    

"That!"   

A dark, ominous figure swung down and kicked Rick in the stomach. Dropping the purse, he slammed against the brick wall. 

The new arrival punched Rick in the mouth.    

"Who are you?" Rick asked, gripping his bleeding nose.   

He grabbed ahold of Rick's jacket. "You can call me...   Nightwolf!!"   

Bob took out a hand pistol and shot it at the attacker's back. "Get off him, creep!"    

Pivoting, Nightwolf kicked Bob's gun to the ground, and punched him in the face. Then, he lifted the burglar above his head and slammed him against the wall. He smiled, when he heard the man's neck crack and his final scream.   

Turning around, he approached Rick. "Now, it's your turn!"  Nightwolf picked up him from the cement ground. "I want you to stay away from my turf. Got that, dogmeat?!"   

Rick nodded and in a puff of smoke and the slight stench of brimstone, Nightwolf disappeared. Scared stiff, Rick giggled.

The air produced a whizzing sound and another colorful, costumed figure entered the alley. It was Captain Manhattan.

"What just happened, citizens?" the Captain asked.   

"A man," Rick responded, staring at his near-dead partner in crime. "Dressed all in black-- he attacked us an' nearly killed my friend, there."   

Captain Manhattan stared at the unconscious Bob. Someone very powerful could only accomplish this.  That someone was probably a paranormal.   

"Thank you, that'll be all."  The Captain spread his cape wide and soared into the air. Soon, he, too, was gone from sight.    Whoever this guy was, thought the Captain, as he headed towards midtown Manhattan. He was good. Maybe, too good.    

"You're proud of this, aren't you, now?" Charlotte Beck ran from her room, in the apartment in Soho, where she and her friends had claimed as their home.  She was quickly followed by Randy O'Brien.   

"Stop, Charly!" Randy yelled to her. "Whatever's eating at you, you have to let it go."   

Charlotte stopped and turned around to face him. "And what right have you to tell me what is or not right for me?! Look at you. Give me one good reason why I should listen to you!!"    

"Because I care... and still love you!!"   

"Oh, really? And where was this love when you told me that you were prejudice against blacks, huh?  And where was it when I told you that I wanted to spend the rest of my natural-born life with you? Where was it then?!"    

"That was different."   

"How?!" Charly, for a second, stared into his heart, instead of at his body. She raised her hands up in the air. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get to work. Good bye, Mr. Antibody." 

Before she could turn around, Randy grabbed her by the arm and pulled her body to his. "I don't care what it takes, but I will show you how much I love you."    

"Prove it."   

Randy engaged Charly in a long kiss. For a minute, she responded, but then, she pulled away and slapped him in the face.  

"That was disgusting," she exclaimed. "You're disgusting!"  Gesturing, she reduced the friction between the floor and his feet. He fell down and crashed into a lamp shade. The door slammed shut. His head rang from the sound that it made.   

David Landers entered the room and offered Randy his hand.   "Had another falling out with Charly?"   

"How did you ever guess?" he said, receiving his friend's hand and getting up.  "Each day it just gets harder and harder to reach her."    

"Don't worry, pal. She's coming around. I can see it."

"Yeh, me, too.  She’s coming around to wanting to kill me."

"Come on, man. You're breakfast is getting cold."     

Meanwhile, in the heart of midtown Manhattan, the last member of this little paranormal crew, Stephanie Harrington, walked down Madison Avenue with her three children under her first marriage-- Emily, Ben and Jilly. Chuck would probably go down as the worst husband to had ever lived. He hated kids and abused Stephanie from day one. When he found out that she was a paranormal, he committed her to an institution that specialized in problems like hers. And after she escaped from that self-same institute, he hired bounty hunters to track her down, like a common criminal. Then, when she finally came home, after Chuck seemingly forgave her, he slept with a girl at the office and got AIDS in the  process. Yep, definitely the worst husband.   

Ben, the youngest, spotted a toy shop and stopped to look at  it.  "Look, mommy. Look. Toys. Can we go inside?"    

"Sure, darling, " she said to him.   

The four of them entered the store and almost immediately, the children separated and went shopping.  Stephanie was left alone. But not for long. A man approached her.    

"Miss," he said. "I am Ricardo Hutchings. And if you are Miss Stephanie Harrington, I have something for you." He took out an envelope and handed it to her.    

"What is it?" She took it.    

"Open it and find out, my love."    

"It's a letter." 

It said:                

Dear Miss Harrington,                    

I belong to the National Memorial Hospital in South Carolina and I would like to inform you of the progress we have made with her husband, Chuck, who has been stationed here for the last couple of months. I am sad to say that I have some grave news to tell you. Yesterday, Charles Harrington passed away to a swift and painless  heart attack.                     

But, on a lighter note, I think you would like to know of a proposition that we have for you. One ward of the hospital has been made into a paranormal research wing. We think that we have the measures and the equipment to enhance the parahuman energies within you. We know of your ability to heal people. With this treatment, you will be able to cure diseases, such as cancer and AIDS, instead of just heal cuts and bruises.  We think that you would be very interested in this. Please inform us in the next thirty days if you want this treatment. Our address to our New York wing is on the back of this letter. Thank you.                           

Sincerely yours,                           

Ricardo Hutchings                          

President of the National Memorial Hospital

"You?! Then, why--?!"

"Why did I write the letter, Stephanie dearest? Because I'm afraid I am not a great speaker. I felt that if I wrote the letter and gave it to you person, it will be calmer on my nerves."  Ricardo looked at her, in anticipation. "So, what is your answer?"

"I guess my only answer can be... yes. If what you say is even remotely true, then, I'll be glad to come to the  hospital."

"You do not know how pleased I am to hear you say that."

She stuffed the letter in her purse. "I just want to say thank you, Ricardo." She stepped up on her tippie-toes and kissed him on the cheek.  "If you'll excuse me, I really must be finding my children."    

"Of course."   

She departed and Ricardo smiled.  He was so happy for  himself. He had completed his goal.    

He uncuffed his sleeve and bent down to speak into his watch.  "Target one located. Execution approved. Hutchings  out."   

He covered his sleeve over his Rolex watch and walked out of the toy shop. 

New York, the National Memorial Hospital. Stephanie Harrington stood in the lobby of this great medical institution.  She was very excited about the treatment she was about to be given.  With it, she would be stronger and more powerful than ever before.   

A door opened and Ricardo Hutchings greets her. "Hello, my love.  And how are you on this fine day?"   

"I'm great, to say the least," she responded. "I'm really ecstatic, as you probably could realize, by now."     

"Of course.  Come this way."   

They both entered the door that he came from.  They walked down the hall and went into the last door on the left. Stephanie entered a room full of all kinds of lab equipment. She was really excited.  This is it, she thought.   

"Now, what exactly will have to be done on me?" she asked.

"Well," he answered. "You will get on that table over there and we will do the rest. Don't worry.  We won't let any harm to befall on you."  He turned to the door. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must contact the doctor that will perform the treatment on you. You can just wait here  patiently."    

He exited the room. The door closed and she was all alone.

She searched through the room. She was so curious about all this equipment. Something about it didn't seem right. What could it be?  Everything seemed to be in order. What was making her so edgy?  Maybe it's that this all seemed too good to be true. Yeah, that's it.   

Suddenly, the PA system switched on and an all-too familiar voice crackled in the room.  She couldn't place it, but she knew she heard it before.   

"Well, well, well," the voice said. "What have we here?  It's so nice of you to join us, Stephanie?"    

"Who are you?!"   

"Why, I'm your worst nightmare. I'm a person who has worked more than half his life to destroy you and your accursed parahuman powers!!"   

"Then, this treatment-- the entire hospital-- it's all a  sham!"   

"You are really perceptive today. Correct, it is a sham. Oh, the hospital does exist, but it was closed for the last month. I just held the demolition date.  Doesn't life have its little quirks?"    

"Yeah, I guess your right."   

"Now, Steph-babe, it's time for me to bring about your  complete-- and utter-- destruction!!"   

"You stinking bastard!!" She hurled a metal object in the  air and the speaker exploded into a thousand little pieces.    

Now, she definitely knew that there was something wrong here. What can it be? And who did that voice belong to? It sounded so familiar. Wait. She knew. It was her--   

A laser struck her and she collapsed to the floor below. Smoke came out of her left shoulder. She clutched it and looked up, searching for where the blast could have came from.  She couldn't find it. Every minute a few new mysteries were revealed. She had so many questions. And she didn't even have one of the answers.  

 The front door swished opens and a tall woman entered the  room.     

"Hi, Stephie,"  she exclaimed. "Time to party!"   

She got up and faced her.  This woman looked about in her thirties and she was very attractive. By her accent, she was probably French. She was wearing a big sweat suit and reeboks sneakers.    

"Who are you?!"  Stephanie questioned.   

"Why, me, girl. I'm Electrique and I have come to bring  about your complete-- and utter-- destruction!!"   

Can it be that this was the woman who was speaking to her through the mike? No, couldn't be. Now, could it?    

Clapping her hands together, electricity crackled around the French woman's body.  It looked, as if, whatever this 'Electrique' was going to do to Stephanie, it was going  to hurt. A lot.

“What do you want with me?” Stephanie asked sharply. “There has to be more than just trying to trick me into healing people.”

Electrique materialized, her hands crackling with energy. “There is. The Hex Squad has kidnapped Philip Nolan Voight, the former President of the United States. We also have the woman who has been plaguing Ken Connell’s and Captain Manhattan’s dreams giving them nightmares. Her name is Dreamscape. She can be quite a bitch to you and your friends.”

Stephanie’s glitter powers surrounded her hands and she punched Electrique in the stomach, forcing her to retreat into an outlet.

I’ve got to contact the NSC, she thought.

“Spitfire, strafe the area,” Justice said.

Jenny Swensen, in her red MAX armor, flew above and around the warehouse where they knew that the Hex Squad had kept Voight, all tied up to a chair. She would show no mercy. On both arms were machine guns that she fired into the windows, missing Philip completely. When smoke exuded from the building, she returned to the rest of the NSC team on the grassy plain not far away.

“You’re next, Gene. Blow the front door skyhigh”

Gene Proudhawk sighed. “There was a time when I was training the Psi-force children in the proper use of their powers. I wish—“

“Just do it, Gene. And change into Psi-hawk.”

Gene held the medallion that was once his brother Emmett’s and his outer clothing was shed to the uniform of Psi-hawk. He flew into the air and utilizing Kathy Ling’s telekinetic psi-powers, he forced the door to be ripped to splinters.

“Landers, retrieve Voight. Hadleman is there, so I will be your protection. My shields will be your armor.”

As Dave Landers raced at breakneck speed through the door, Judge Justice was close behind him, projecting his shields to protect him. When Landers entered the room, Sgt. Hadleman and Dreamscape approached him.

“I remember that you have some protection against my world pain, my weltzmertz. Let’s see how you like the full treatment.”

“Shut up, sergeant!” Dave punched him against the wall, knocking him out cold. He turned to Dreamscape. “So, you’re the one who’s been causing my friends bad dreams. And your friend, Electrique, caused serious pain to my girlfriend, Stephie.”

“Landers, don’t. Let Remsen handle her.”

David stepped aside. Keith stepped forward, and upon seeing Dreamscape’s face, he stepped back. “You have a similar scar like I do,” Keith said.

“Of course. You are one of the Nightmasks, aren’t you?’ she asked.

“No, I am the Nightmask.”

She laughed. “Do you really think that you are the only nightmask in this world? I am one. And there are many others in this city alone.”

Justice walked toward Dreamscape and upon seeing him, she started to panic. ”You are the foretold one. The Judge of Justices. And you,” she said, looking at Ken Connell. “The Star Brand. You don’t have to live with three star brands in one host body. You can be separate. You can be free. You are the one who can destroy our planet with one transference of the brand.”

Justice looked at Remsen. “I would like you to examine her back at HQ. Think you can keep her docile?’

“Of course. Just give me a moment.” Remsen entered her mind and gave her a peaceful dream to last her the plane ride home.

“Landers, do what you can with Voight,” Justice said.

David walked over to Voight and released him. “I have a question for you, Voighty. I read a book by Andrew Chaser. Is it true that you lost your powers some time ago to a man named Jacob Burnley? And that you are no longer in office, a normal citizen?”

“Yes.”

Landers punched Voight across the mouth. “Just asking.”