Downtown Atlas

It was Mickey's last day. As soon as the minute hand finished making its 4 o'clock revolution, his retirement would begin. The big clock on the front face of Atlas City Bank would ring out five times, millions of people would gather their coats and hats, their briefcases and purses, and they would find their vehicles to begin the weekend. But not Mickey; he would gather his coat and hat, his briefcase, and he would find his vehicle to begin the rest of his life. A bank manager for the past twelve years, he would be retiring to a cushy lifestyle filled with RVs and cruises. Brenda was already looking into cruises.

The minute hand ticked to land on the Roman numeral IX, and one of the new young women stepped into Mickey's office with a tray of neatly organized bills in her hand. If they were already counting down the cash drawers, that meant business wasn't too bad, despite its being a Friday. He might even get a chance to leave early. Mickey loosened his tie, eyeing the last minute bank crowd from his big mahogany desk situated distantly behind the tellers. He would miss that desk--O'Connor was already eying it--but it was worth the retirement. No need for a desk where he was going. The old man smiled to himself a contented smile of satisfaction.

Mickey died with that smile on his face.

The explosion rang from the safe door not five feet from the old man's chair, causing the heavy leaded door to flatten the bank manager in its flight trajectory. A hole was simultaneously blasted in the side of the office as half a dozen men in the bank lobby drew weapons from under raincoats. A tall dark man, swarthy, with twinkling blue eyes, stepped through the ragged rubble and immediately began scooping loose bills into a heavy canvas sack. A shrill scream sounded from the bank lobby, followed by gunfire and a number of whimpers and low, terrified voices. From there, the holdup progressed fairly smoothly--no alarms (silent or otherwise) were triggered, and none of the bank customers made any heroic effort--until the Supers arrived.

And arrive they did...

A wiry young man with pale skin and thick glasses was sitting at a desk in front of a computer, hard at work. The desk was situated directly in front of a very grand looking office on the top floor of one of the tallest office buildings in Atlas City. That office was the office of Victoria Rosario. Editor in Chief of Rogue Magazine. The worlds #1 most popular magazine. It covered everything that anyone would want to read. Fashion, Stars, Movies and most importantly, Supers. IT was one of the only known magazines that kept up to date on the super human community and their deeds and misdeeds. It was all due to the vision of Ms. Rosario. It was her baby.....the man in front of her office however, was her bitch. The young man was Christopher Coleson, her personal assistant. Though she never quite got his name right, even though it was on his desk, she depended on him for a lot. Even though Chris had a lot of work to do, he was about to get a lot more.

"Coleman!" The familiar voice screamed over the intercom.

"Yes, Ms. Rosario?" Chris said in a very concerned and polite way.

"Get in here, now!" She screamed once again.

Chris simply sighed and got up from his desk. He walked over to the double doors and opened them. He walked inside the large luxurious office. There was a small waterfall and a zen garden, along with a bonsai tree and several modern couches and coffee tables. At the center of it all was a large black desk that looked very modern with a large red chair situated behind it that almost looked futuristic. Ms. Rosario was in the corner of her office, looking down and out of the wall of windows in her office. Chris approached her. "What do you need, Ms. Rosario?" Chris asked patiently.

The woman who spun around to meet him was, to put it simply, beautiful. She had tanned skin with natural blonde hair wrapped up in a very professional bun. She wore a blue button up with a grey woman's suit jacket along with a grey work skirt. As long as Chris had known her, she had never worn pants. "Calvin, I need you to round up our on the scene team and alert the Super writers. The Abettor just flew past my office and there is smoke rising from the Atlas Central bank. It happened not 10 seconds ago. We need to be the first with this story and we have to fit it into to tomorrow's issue, understood." From the moment she had started talking, Chris had been writing down almost every word she said. He looked up at her. "On it ma'am." He the turned around and went to work on his Blackberry. He BBMed everyone she had told him to contact and explained the situation to them in under 3 minutes. He then sat back down at his desk and felt good. A voice suddenly rung in his head. "Christopher, why be you laxed? Did you not understand thy lady. Villainy is afoot! This is why I brought you back, to combat the forces of evil and to protect the innocent mortals of Midgard." Chris sighed. "Baldur, I have work to do and...." he was interrupted. "I'm surprised at you Christopher! Does not the safety of your fellow man not concern you more than this monotonous clanging of keys upon thy board. Come my friend, let us to battle!" Chris glanced at his key board, then down the hall to the stairs. "Your right. Let's go!" Baldur sounded in his head. "Verily."

Chris walked to the stair case and opened the door. He ran up them one flight to the roof of the building. He rant to the corner and looked down at the bank below. He shook his left wrist and a very strange watch came out of it. He brought the watch to his face and spoke. "As the darkness consumes the light, so does the light consume the darkness!" A huge flash of light came from Chris, turning him into a shining beacon. When the light faded, a tall armored man with glowing blue eyes and glowing blue lines on his face stood where Chris once stood. Baldur stood on the edge of the building and screamed before leaping off the edge. "For Midgard!"

Baldur landed with a very loud crash. The force of his body indenting the pavement and shattering some of the windows of the bank. He then stood up and walked into the bank. He surveyed the scene with his glowing eyes and saw many armed thugs and a man in a strange suit he had never seen before. He also noted the dead near the safe and a woman with a helmet covered in her own blood. The lines on his face glowed a bit brighter at this sight. "Thy villains would display such acts of barbarism before children!" Baldur yelled at the criminals. If they hadn't noticed him before, they sure as hell did now. One who was not 5 feet from him turned around and aimed an assault rifle at his head. Baldur did not even look at him. The thug then opened fire on Baldur, aiming for his head, the only thing that wasn't armored. The bullets flattened against Baldur's incredibly dense skin, but the force caused him to move his head a bit.

After the thug stopped firing. Baldur simply turned his head and stared at him. "You dare attack a son of Odin!" Baldur took a step towards him and flicked him in the forehead. The thug went flying back and smacked against the wall of the bank. "I will offer Amnesty once, all of you lay down your arms, or face the wrath of an Asgardian."