Everything hurt. I got uneasy looks of sympathy from the other tenants in the building as I made my way down the hall. I knew I looked like a wreck. I walked into my apartment, closed the curtans and headed into the bathroom to peal off what was left of my outfit. My healing ability kept me alive, but I had plenty of cuts and bruises from the giant boulders that had rained down on me and my teammate. I'm still not sure how things are supposed to work - being a part of the Freedom Phalanx.

I showed up to the Hollows, and before I even got the chance to decide what I was going to do, my comm started to light up with all kinds of chatter from the other members. I had just let the others know I was available, when one of the members called on me for some assistance with an arrest in the Hollows. I have no idea how long I had been standing there, replaying the days events, but the sensation of cool tile on the side of my face told me it was past time to get out of the shower. I pulled out the next outfit in the closet, grabbed my notebook off the desk and stretched out on the couch. I wrote in some notes for some contacts I had been introduced to.

I started a new section today, the Freedom Phalanx. I couldn't help but smile as I scanned the names I had written down so far. Kinetica, the nice person in the combat suit with the feminine voice, was my first contact with the Freedom Phalanx. I wrote in Hawk Lad's name and a few others I had heard over the comm. I learned a lot from Hawk Lad today. Mostly, I got to watch someone who was really dedicated to the spirit of heroism. It still bothers me that I never learned the name of the hero that had saved me.

The Beginning

It started off like any other evening. I grabbed the opportunity at a few extra hours at the steel plant in King's Row. The typical hike to my meager apartment included keeping low and quiet, ducking for cover at the sounds of someone desperately trying to keep what little money they had from being taken from some robber. The night was unusually still and much cooler than it had been for this time of year. I rounded a corner, right into a rather large confrontation between some heroes and the criminal element of King's Row. I veered off to the side and took cover.

In the midst of the battle, a human-like shape of black energy and glowing eyes had suddenly appeared. The figure had something in it's hand that gleamed oddly from the streetlamp. It fired this pulsating blast of purplish-black energy as one of the heroes jumped in front of me. The hero took the brunt of the attak, but some of the energy struck me as well. As I fell to my knees in pain, I saw the hero fall to the ground, not moving, as the mysterious attacker seemed to fade out of existance. I can still recall the look of pain on the fallen hero's comrades as one of them picked me up from the floor.

When I came to, the first thing I remember is the doctors placing a sheet over the fallen hero in the bed next to me. And then it hit me: this burning desire, this uncontrollable...hate and need to destroy. I wanted to crush the doctors that came to check on me, the nurse at my side, the grieving comrades looking through the window. Then I looked at the body of the hero next to me, and I closed my eyes. I could see the darkest black inside, and I grabbed a hold of it. I was determined to be like that hero. I would become the essence of what he did for me. I would become the protector. Do not ask me my name, for that is no longer who I am, and I wish not to remember. I am the Darkness that heals.