That face. The face of a man who has sworn to protect the innocent and make the world a better place. Of a man who would sacrifice his life to save another's. Who has been the symbol of all that is good and righteous in this world. That face was now filled with guilt and sadness as it looked at me from behind and outstretched palm that was glowing a light blue hue pointed directly at my chest. "I'm sorry," it said. "I'm so, so sorry. Please understand why I must do this." The blue hue grew brighter as he spoke and began to concentrate in the center of his palm. That was his power; the ability to gather light, concentrate its energy and manipulate it. That's why he was called Spectrum. "I don't blame you," I said, my voice cracking slightly despite my intention of being stoic. I knew why I had to die. I didn't want to, but I understood why. It was about two years ago when the first "superheroes" came to light. It happened overnight, it seemed. And, of course, it didn't take long for some of those with powers to start using them for their own gains. Thus, super villains were born and the world began to seem more like a comic book than the world we were used to before all of this. I shouldn't say 'the world'. It became apparent soon after people began developing "powers" that those people were all from a specific place in the world. That place was Chicago, Illinois. My home town. Where I lived. About a month ago, a superhero named The Vestige known for his powers of clairvoyance determined that I was the source of all superpowers. No one knows how or why. There hasn't been time to figure these questions out. This is because soon after this discovery, it was determined that I was too dangerous to be allowed to live. It was determined, by those heroes who protect those of us who cannot protect ourselves, that I could no longer live. The Vestige also discovered that if I died, all powers would be extinguished. Life would be as it once was; ordinary. So, of course, those that we called the heroes were "selfless" enough to agree that I must be eliminated even though it would mean they no longer had their powers. I don't judge them for this. They did try other means of controlling my "ability". They tried to keep me protected from those who would abuse my power. They tried to determine a way to reverse my powers without having to take my life. Obviously, those who used their abilities for selfish means were motivated to have me under their control. The worst of them, Mercury, deemed it the top priority of all villains that I be captured and brought to him. If he could control the source of all superpowers, he would be almighty indeed. After Syndicate set his mind to capturing me, that is when the world fell apart. Villains began destroying everything and everyone in an effort to find me. This created enough chaos to demand the full attention of all superheroes and pressure them into coming up with a quick solution. That solution was to kill me. As I stood there facing Spectrum's outstretched palm in the basement of a ruined house, it had been a mere 48 hours since all hell broke loose. There had been so much destruction and death. I couldn't help but feel responsible. I guess that's why I felt a small amount of relief in that moment, mixed with the fear. "Do it," I said, eyes welling with tears. I could see Spectrum's face flash surprise, then respect, before his jaw line tightened in determination and his arm straightened a bit more. As the light grew larger, I closed my eyes, waiting for the world I knew to disappear in a flash of light. The flash came, accompanied with a heat that stung my exposed skin. I gritted my teeth against the pain, but it soon dissipated and all that remained was a sizzling sound and the smell of burnt flesh. I slowing opened my eyes, confused as to why I still had any sense of smell at all. My confusion deepened when I saw Spectrum's burnt body heaped where he once stood with his palm aimed at my chest. I myself was unharmed. "You're welcome, Originator," came a deep voice. It's owner slowly walked down the steps. First, dark boots that singed the wood where they were planted on each stair, smoke slowly wafting up from beneath them, came to view. The black cargo pants and crimson shirt came next. Black fingerless gloves appeared to be surrounded by the wavy, distorted aura that you often see on the horizon of an asphalt street baking in the summer heat. As soon as the blonde beard and black goggles came into view, I knew who it was. His name was Ashe and he could produce heat at terrifying temperatures. He's been seen to melt the flesh from a man's bones. A pitiful cough and groan escaped from Spectrum's charred lungs. As I looked to him, I noticed his one unharmed eye looking back at me. There was fear there. And pain. Again, my fault. "It looks as if I've saved your life," Ashe said, chuckling. "This is pretty fucked up." He stepped over the burnt body at the bottom of the stairs, looking around the room. "So this is where you've been hiding," he said. "Your mother's basement. Pretty stupid, if you ask me." I didn't have much time to hide in the first place. It was the only place I could think of. He was right, though. It was stupid. As he approached, the heat against my skin intensified. It became borderline uncomfortable once he stood in front of me. I stared at him, trying to appear defiant and brave. He just chuckled once more. "C'mon, time to go," he said as he grabbed the front of my shirt and began leading me forcefully towards the stairs. I looked back down to Spectrum as I was dragged by. His eye tracked me. I noticed his arm, which was positioned with his palm towards the ceiling, twitch slightly. And a blue glow began to grow within that palm. I looked back to his eye and saw a pleading there. I saw a dying man's hope that he would be able to do one last act of good for the world, even if the means might appear evil. And seeing that in his eyes awoke something in me. Awake a similar desire; to do the right thing. Without thinking, I yanked myself free of Ashe's grasp. "No!" he cried, as I threw myself atop the outstretched palm of glowing blue light. There was a flash of white, a feeling of insubstantiality and then...

Nothing...