Superhero Skin Black 99%

Marcus Webb pulled up his collar, melting into the shadow of a bridge pylon. "Good. Myths don't get shot. Myths don't go to jail. Myths just… happen."

Not the streetlights— all light. A low-frequency emitter in his belt harmonized with the bridge's power grid, plunging a half-mile radius into absolute, primordial darkness. The Vipers screamed, firing blindly into the void. superhero skin black

He killed the lights.

But Marcus was born in this darkness. He was the darkness. Marcus Webb pulled up his collar, melting into

He didn't fly. He fell with purpose. The wind ripped past his ears, but he was silent as a burial shroud. He landed on the roof of the lead armored truck with a soft thump that was lost in the engine's roar. Marcus Webb pulled up his collar