Rage was the only thing in my heart. Rage at “heroes,” who killed my son in cold blood and rage at the lackluster display of false sympathy shown by their parents. They like him, were only sixteen years old. Some were a little older but that’s not the point. The fact of the matter is, my son was no real threat to anyone. Especially, not the sons of five most powerful heroes.

I know why they did it; they wanted to make a name for themselves, as if being the children of the “Big Five,” wasn’t enough. They thought that I wouldn’t be able to do anything to them because I was known as nothing more than minor villain. An annoying prankster was all that they considered me to be. My nemesis, however, knew better.

Her alias was “Silent Silver.” She came to me a week later.

“Hello,” she said, in a calm voice that seemed to hold genuine sympathy, “I know that our relationship has been tenuous at the best of times but I want to give my condolences.”

“Why did you come to do such formalities yourself and in person no less. Don’t you have some minimum wage secretary who does this sort thing for you.”

“I do but that’s really not why I came here.”

“Well why did you? Can’t you just give a grieving father just a little bit of time to mourn the death of his only child?”

“You want to get revenge, right?”

“Yeah, of course I do but I’m not quite sure how you can help with that.”

“I am a sworn to bring justice. Even for those who are not innocent themselves. I want to help you. Besides I am not stupid and know what you are really capable of. Honestly being on your good side sounds like a really good idea.”

After about an hour of back and forth, I finally agreed to let her help me. We planned for about a year and we are going to bring my son’s killers to justice. We will strike tomorrow. My son will have justice.