Hey, a bank robbery. I smell a cliché. [Micheal Atterius]

Michael took a deep sip of the coffee held precariously in his hands, a small amount of steam rising from the hot beverage. The taste of the drink and heat touching his tongue was more than enough to exponentially increase his awareness, Michael sighing contently before taking yet again another taste. It had been not too long since he had last been contacted and hired by the mysterious man known as The Phantom, hired into his strange organization and perhaps ending his own freelance career. In fact, Michael hadn’t really done anything criminal in quite a while, not even selling minor illegal substances to addicts in the streets. While feeding the fall of humanity would have been fun, he was a prince afterall and princes were supposed to be above things like that or whatever hogwash people believed.

Right now he had been searching for the source of a strange kind of ethereal energy, one that was drawing him almost. Something about it called him, calling upon a less dominant part of his blood, the half that he received from his Titan father. His metahuman comrades were busy doing something and that left Michael to himself, which in retrospect is never a good thing. For all they know, he could end up blowing up Chicago before the day ended, but luckily he decided on a simpler course, which was coffee in a quaint coffee shop. People sat around the shop, some of the bumming off of the free wifi and others actually enjoying the coffee as they talked pleasantly amongst themselves; Michael being alone adrift this small ocean of sound.

That was broken however, when he heard the all too familiar sound of a police siren. Something was happening, an interesting thing that would cause the local law enforcement to frenzy towards it. Could it have been a Metahuman acting out or something more than that? Perhaps a bank robbery being performed by the absolutely desperate or something along that line, not that it mattered either way. Michael was in one of his rare moods, and that meant he would stick his nose in either way, and perhaps even intervene if he so wanted. Draining his cup of coffee, Michael crumpled the paper and threw it into the trashcan before walking out, following the sound of sirens with a jovial step. After all, something interesting was happening and it would only be right that he saw what it was.

Luckily the location was not that hard to find, considering that it was indeed some kind of bank robbery with police crowding the entrance. No one could get in, and no one out through the front entrance, that being until someone appeared on the scene. Something about the appearance made Michael smirk, the showmanship impressive within its own right and something that he could respect. If he had the power to back up the whole show, then the Ethereal would have been even more impressed, considering that some were all flash and no substance; the cloak was perhaps the icing on the proverbial cake as well. All seemed to be going well, until the three guys with guns turned upon him, or so Michael guessed from his vantage point.

He created a shield and that was when the hail of bullets fell upon the poor chap, leaving him at a slight disadvantage, and Michael could have helped him then, if only to learn more about the strange male. While he may have not seemed very impressive in only faded blue jeans and a band t-shirt, Michael was a rather powerful mage, so he could do something. First however he would have to actually enter the frey, and the move things from there. The easiest way that he could get through the barricade of blue was turning into mist and moving from there. So by simply activating the spell, Michael found himself turning into a small cloud of purple mist that floated through the air mostly unnoticed by the people that were focused upon the sound of gunfire. He would move in through the roof and go from there, solidifying above them and perhaps picking off the criminals.

With back pressed up against the ceiling, and still not noticed by the thugs, Michael would begin his impromptu plan. Forming a fist of Dark Ethereal energy around his left hand, Michael thrust it forward and the construct shoot out, slamming into one of the thugs only hard enough to knock them out as they hit the nearest wall; the one with the knife it would seem. That left him with the other three and he was sure that they would see him now, which was not good at all. Likely he would find himself under fire soon.

Okay, so that was one down and three to go, with the thugs looking upon the male and aiming their guns. Dammit, he did not really think this plan out very well, but then again this was not his most brilliant idea. Okay, only one of them aimed a weapon at him, and it was the brute of a man with the shotgun…fantuckingfastic. He knew what that kind of weapon did, considering that it was one that Michael enjoyed, almost as much as an automatic gun, and one that just let out a hail of bullets with a press of the trigger. Sure he could have performed the intangibility spell once again, but luckily that was not required. With them all focusing upon the Ethereal, the hero had just enough time to do whatever it was that he was planning.

This came in the form of strange orbs of energy that were set upon the largest of the thugs, causing him to turn the gun away from him and thrash about. Michael took this chance to make a move, turning from his back against the ceiling to actually standing upside down, basically giving gravity the finger as he thought over what next to do. With a rather goofy sounding pun, a magical energy permeated the air and then the orbs all exploded after letting out a high pitched sound that irritated his ears.

With that another one was knocked out, leaving them with two more dangerous criminals or whatever, Michael more than ready to deal with them but at the same time he wanted to see what the male would do now. With hero taking refuge behind a pillar,  one of the gunmen took this opportunity to take a hostage, pressing his revolver against her head and cocking the hammer to make sure it was obvious his intent. The human planned to kill her, and he was not too surprised by such a thing, considering that humans killed each other every day. He could save the woman, but that was more along the line of something that Silus would do, the good boy of the family, not that he was by any means the black sheep; considering that most of his siblings were questionable bad.

However, before Michael could make his move, Spellstone had already made his and disarmed the male that was so ready to kill the woman. With all of that, it mean that Michael was now only dealing with one criminal and it would be easy to deal with him, as long as the guy didn’t shoot quicker. ”This will be over quick.” Michael mused forming a purple gun construct within his left hand, and without a sound the bullet slammed into the hand of the final gunman, drawing a cry of pain as the weapon itself clattered to the ground. Before the guy could really do anything else, Michael descended from the ceiling and slammed a knee into his groin, forcing the man to double over in pain. With him down, Michael rested his foot on the back of the mans neck, and smiled triumphantly to the hero, or at least where he was. ”Wow, that was easy.” He said to himself smugly.

The man under his foot squirmed lightly, though surprisingly enough Michael had a little more strength than him, or at least enough to keep him from wriggling out. The hero that initially was dealing with the problem waved to him confidently, Michael reciprocating the gesture with a wave of his own. ”Names Michael, and I just felt like….doing my civil duty.” He had to hold back the sarcasm that would have seeped into that, considering that he was really just doing all of it out of boredom. Of course the guy had to make note that he could have dealt with everything himself, not that Michael was questioning that; he had a decent amount of magical power at his command it seemed. A powerful aura radiated from him and it was something that his sensitive magical senses picked up on quickly.

”No doubt about that.” He said with a friendly tone, motioning towards the two thugs he had taken out before Michael had jumped in; man with the knife notwithstanding. ”Who are you anyway? You must have some kind of heroic moniker of some kind, considering you already have the costume.” He oozed charisma with that line, acting skills going into overdrive, though he was genuinely curious of this males name, even if it were just an alias. One thing that Michael enjoyed was having a label to put on someone, other than guy with sparkly cloak. That glow of energy similar to the lightning bolt was taken notice of, though Michael did not let is visibly shake him.

Like a peacock the male puffed his chest out, ego perhaps stroked by what Michael was saying, which was the intentions of his words in the first place. An impressive small show was even put on before he revealed his heroic title, which was Spellstone. So his name was Spellstone, which was an interesting title for a young mage turned hero to bear. The ethereal looked impressed, and he would be lying to say that he was not, considering the males enjoyment of theatrics. After the whole intro, Michael accepted his hand and shook it firmly.  ”It’s a pleasure to meet you too Spellstone.” He took note of the police standing not too far from beyond the threshold of the doors to the bank, wondering what kept them from moving in. Perhaps that two “Metahumans” had taken care of the thugs was more than enough reason to be calm now. ”Hey, isn’t this the part where the hero usually makes a flashy exit or something?” He suggested raising his left eyebrow slyly. He did not need to have his father, or brother seeing that he went on to do something heroic, considering that Silus alone was more than enough for the family.

The humans that Spellstone saved were thanking him, almost obsessively it would seem and some even turned their thanks upon the Ethereal, something that was new to him. Usually he would have people looking upon him with absolute loathing, and occasionally there was hatred, but never did he have someone actually thank him. Something about that made his pride swell up, as well as another feeling within him that was just too damn good. The hero agreed that it was that time and lead an elderly human out through the front door, and he would have followed afterwards, perhaps either spending more time studying this Spellstone or returning to his Metahuman comrades. Still, Michael could not help but chuckle to himself, at how the humans thanked them, and the feeling that came from it. While it would not be a permanent thing for him to do, the heroics were fun in their own way, minus the overall pointless risk that one put themselves into.

One thing that the ethereal did not see coming was the knife, not even when the hero steps in front of him reached in an attempt to save him. The last expression before that was one of mild confusion, one that was easily remedied by the piercing pain that flooded through his spine, followed by a painful twist that caused his whole body to give out, and yet the pain was not absent. Michael attempted to open his mouth, to speak a word that would maybe save him but in the end it only came out as a bloody gurgle, silver eyes pathetically looking to Spellstone before he fell face forward, knife removed from his body. There was no pain when he hit the ground, as everything went black, and the sounds of screams could be heard.

He was dead, how anticlimactic.

In a matter of moments his heart had stopped beating that wet pumping organ no longer forcing blood to circulate blood through his body, but not before blood squirted messily out the wound and all over his shirt. Whatever people said about having your life flash in front of your eyes was true, as his short life appeared. Visions of his family, Sean, Ouroboros, Silus his younger brother, and Shael most of all flashed through his mind in less than a second, though it all seemed stretched out. He was dying, at the hands of a human no less and that was something that Michael could not forgive. Blackness fell upon him heavily, his limbs feeling like a ton of bricks strapped to his body and then within that instant he felt weightless.

Around him stretched an infinite blackness, one that swallowed all sorrows and any emotions that he felt, leaving him at peace with everything and then there was the feeling of oneness with many others. Many souls brushing past him, caressing him and making him feel whole. Within this moment Michael felt an infinite love, one that he had not know within his life, and something about it lifted him….higher and higher. Light blinded his celestial eyes and then there was weight, one that caused him to pause within his ascension and then to fall, back through the chorus, back through the infinite love and even through the abyssal darkness.

He was falling…falling….falling further and further. If he had a mouth, Michael would have screamed, willed himself to fly, but that was not possible. A dark breathless muttering was all that he could hear, one that filled his ears and moved through his entire being like water through a stream. Within a second he hit something, solid ground perhaps and Michael jolted upwards and took in a deep shuddering breath. He was back within the bank, on the floor soaked with…his own blood. The Ethereal let his fingertips dance over what was once a wound, what now was only a small silver scar where he was stabbed. The man that struck him down was dying against the wall, and his lungs took each breath in greedily.

”Y…you b…brought me back.” It was meant to be a question but came out as a statement.

Now purple eyes met with the blue eyes, Michael unable to really suppress a smile for some reason. It was a strange feeling, having someone actually risk bringing you back from the precipice, though Michael felt as if something had changed within him, something deep and fundamental. The male smiled as well, extending a cosmic hand to help him up and Michael accepted t, feeling himself pulled onto his feet and vertigo taking over for a second before letting him do his own thing. He was standing once again, thanks to this strange mage, though at the same time he could smell it, the scent of death wafting off of him ever so faintly. ”Yeah…..well thank you.” He said with a genuine smile, something that would seem off on his face to those that really knew him.

Spellstone acted as if it were a given that he would have done that, but something about it still mattered immensely to him. Something about the mage seemed fatigued, but at the same time he felt tired, so there would be no point in Michael bugging him about that, not when he was extremely tired himself. ”You're right, can’t keep the press waiting now can we?” He said with a small chuckle, amused by the fact that he wasn't really trying to run away. He was literally going to walk out into a mob of press with no problem whatsoever, oh if only his family could see him now.