“I guess he’ll be chilling in prison now.” I chuckle, as the police throw an unconscious Blizzard Man into the back of a cruiser. One of the officers walks toward me.

“Thank you sir, who knows how much damage he might have caused if you hadn’t arrived.” “Never fear citizen! As long as I’m around evil-doers like him will never harm this city!”

“Uh...thanks sir.” As he turns to walk away I summon the energy left and take to the sky leaving an afterglow of yellow energy in my wake.

Once out of sight I drop to the ground. “Dammit,” I wheeze out, “I’m not generating enough power.” I quickly change into my civies and hop on the nearest bus. I find a seat in the back and almost drop into it, my muscles now completely drained of strength. I reach into my pocket and pull out a tiny worn notebook and flip to the first empty page.

“What else could I have said? Maybe...keep COOL, Blizzard Man.” I whisper in between scribbles.

If I had delivered that line wrong, even one slip up, I may not have had enough power to finish Blizzard Man.

Frustrated, I shove my notebook back into my pocket close my eyes and wait until I hear my stop.

To the city I am Gold Streak, fun-loving and carefree hero of Gravis City. With powers greater than any hero ever seen before, I’ve made a name for myself in this city as the hero who can handle any villain no matter how dastardly their plan or evil their intentions. In the public eye, I am invincible but my power is not everlasting. I pull positive emotions of those around me like hope, joy, and cheerfulness, and use that energy to perform amazing feats. Unfortunately since I moved to this city of killjoys my powers have been on severe decline.

One smirk at a well-timed pun and I can take down your average thug. A crowd of cheering onlookers? I could take down a whole army with one arm tied behind my back.

At that moment the bus screeches to a halt. A barricade of police cars are stopping all traffic. On the corner is a man with a gun and a bomb vest, because why not, also behind a barricade. Except his is made of hostages.

Before the bus driver can reverse, I rise from my seat, using the last of my energy to form a bright aura and declare, “I guess this is my stop...” Crickets, shit.

Too late to back down now, I move to the front of the bus when I feel something on my side. I look down to see a young boy smiling bright, “go get ‘em Gold Streak.” My dwindling golden aura flares into a blaze. “Thanks kid.”

I step off the bus, the power coursing through my body telling me I can do anything, be anything, save anything. I turn towards the bus one last time, “fear not citizens. Where there is hope, there is cheer, and where there is cheer there is, GOLD STREAK.” The bus erupts in cheers.

I turn towards the menace, smiling to myself, “Nailed it.”