It felt oddly ironic stepping into the bank. He had robbed the place many times. And now he owned it. Or, at least, his alter ego owned it. Unlike many super villains, he had truly managed to keep his work and personal lives separate. After only 10 years of taking what he wanted, he had retired and settled down.
But sadly he couldn't just tear off and fire this annoying little pencil pusher in front of him. No powers that were evident, though few Powered even bothered working day jobs. Just a little mortal in between him and his new home.
"Yes, I would like to apply for a loan. 1.5 million for a new home." How many times did have to repeat himself?
Time was slowing itself down, he realized. His speed was kicking in, and he had to keep it hidden. Anger often caused his control to slip. And normalcy made him very angry.
It's hard to go from "I want that, so it's mine, and I can take it before the Heroes even know I'm here" to "Please, can I have a loan? I only have a net worth of 20 billion dollars, I mean, a theoretical 9-5 job with a villainy insurance startup of one employee paying me a reasonable, totally not suspicious salary."
But he had to play it straight. The IRS was exceptionally good at tracking villain-to-normal funds transfers these days since Calculon was hired ("captured by Capes and given no option") by the government. His angel-investor startup was barely clean enough as it was, so granting himself a few million to buy a new house for his family... sigh, it would be so easy just to take a house.
Though he had never had reason to stop moving. And that is what got you caught in his life.
He had let his power creep in again, he realized, after his entire inner monologue had taken only a fraction of a second. It almost made him even angrier, the thought of experiencing this bureaucratic hell at super slow motion.
"Yes, but your credit score is somewhat lacking. You do not appear to have used any credit... well, ever. So we have nothing to judge you by."
"Daddy, can we get our home now?" his little girl piped in. He softened at her voice, as he always did.
It seemed to have a similar effect on the banker. "But, seeing as your income is fairly exceptional for this loan, I think we can make an exception here."
It was at that moment the doors exploded inward. Quick Death turned in an instant, assessed the situation, and turned back before anyone could notice the blurring. No shrapnel was coming this way, so he didn't need any powers. He merely grabbed his frightened daughter and hurried around behind the heavy wooden desk with the loan officer.
"You folks know the drill. Money in bags now. Or bodies in bags soon."
Quick got a good look at this upstart. Not a terrible costume. Even had a voice modulator. That was the easiest way to catch a villain these days - voice recognition. Costume did not do enough to hide the silhouette, but the villain was a normal build, normal height, and generally unremarkable man. So unlike Tiny Soldier, his physique wouldn't give him up too easily.
Oh, and he had help! Quick was peering over the desk as a few more stepped into the much larger entrance. A man with rocks for arms, a woman wrapped in a telekinetic bubble (telekinetics were always his most hated enemies), and a firestarter.
A team of villains was something else, something dangerous. They would often show off to each other, especially if they were amateurs. So Quick turned on his power to its fullest extent. It felt good. Really good. He had to focus very hard on keeping his motion looking regular at normal speed, but he wanted to make sure nothing bad happened to his little girl. And every picosecond may count.
He reached a hand over to the loan officer to try and calm him down. "Don't make any sudden movements" (here Quick chucked for a millionth of a second) "and it will be fine. They just want the money like they always do."
Damn it was difficult to speak normally when time was so slow. Good thing he had practiced that for many years. It was hard to rob a bank when no one could understand you.
The reason for the touch was twofold. He was also stealing time from the loan officer who would feel sluggish and a little slower than usual. But otherwise unharmed.
The officer, uh what was his name - oh who cares, nodded blankly. You could tell it was his first time. Quick would have to keep an eye on this one. First timers were usually the ones who got innocents killed with their heroics.
The tellers behind the bullet-, fire-, and telekinetic-proof glass were not moving. It was their job not to give in. No negotiation with villains was the policy these days, and it was actually working for banks. Once the Technomage had figured out the super-glass, banks had generally become a terrible idea to rob.
But that didn't mean villains had given up. It was now a sort of mark of pride - "I've rolled 3 banks", "I cashed out Metro City Bank", "Wow!".
Quick had to admire their... gumption? Ah whatever, so long as they left him and his girl out of it, they could take the money. After all, his startup didn't insure this bank.
He had a decent idea of the powers of the allies - Rockarms would likely be brute strength, Telegirl was obvious, Fireboy was equally so. But the leader had not shown his abilities yet.
"Everyone on the ground. Bank employees to the left. Civvies to the right. Guards, armed or not, do whatever you want, but I recommend getting to the ground and tossing over your guns and gadgets. Tellers, start bundling that cash up or you'll have blood on your hands."
The tellers didn't blink. They were well trained. They had probably already pushed the alarm. Quick thought for a moment. The enforcement roster these days didn't include Speedster or Wormhole. So maybe 2-3 minutes for the fliers to get here.
Quick released the loan officer as they split into the two groups. He joined the civilians on the sidelines, sitting back against the wall. He pressed his hand against it and vibrated at super speeds, gauging the resonant frequency. After a few milliseconds he sighed. Non-resonant construction materials, not bad. A punch could certainly break open the wall, but that was much more obvious than a wall falling apart during any melee.
Still the tellers didn't respond. A minute had passed.
"Okay, you leave us no choice. We'll start with your colleagues." The leader nodded to Fireboy. The bank employees not behind the impervious glass started panicking and all stood up to run. They knew what was next.
Ah, here's why they had the telekineticist. A large bubble appeared around the fleeing captives and brought them back to their previous location. Quick studied the timing of her power very intently. His battles with Force had often hinged on her split second creation times.
So he was happy to see the force fields took 1.47 seconds to appear. Nothing to worry about for him.
Fireboy torched the bank manager unceremoniously. This was the downside of the bank hardening. Civilians casualties were much more common per heist, but as the heists were much more rare, it balanced out in favor of the no negotiation policy.
The tellers squirmed. Training or not, seeing their friend unable to scream as his body flickered into dust was wearing on their souls.
Quick kept his little girl's eyes closed and her ears covered as best he could. Her life as a normal would probably run afoul of villains someday, but today would not be the start.
The leader kept his eyes on the teller. He nodded again, and the bank would have to hire another loan officer. Dang, and that one had caved into the loan. Quick sighed and kept himself in check. He hadn't outed himself during his entire career. He wasn't going to start now.
The tellers still didn't budge. It was obvious they wanted to, but they knew they could not. It would make future robberies more common.
So the Leader made his mistake and nodded over at the civilians. Quick released his little girl, and used the time he'd stolen from his neighboring, cowering civilians.
Time stopped. Quick stood up. 1.47 seconds before forcefield. Maybe 5 minutes of stopped time. Plenty.
He dashed to the leader. And for the first time since Speedster retired, he was surprised. The leader turned to face him. Ah, another time manipulator? No, he didn't turn very quickly. Oh, wow, that was a rare one. He must be an immune.
"I suppose I picked the wrong bank," the leader said.
"You would suppose correctly. You're immune to powers, aren't you?"
"Yep. Who are you? A hero would've stopped me by now."
"Don't worry. I'll give you a Quick Death."
Leaderkid recognized the quip. "Oh, fuck me."