That smoking ruin was less eye-catching than Vince himself—at least, the Vince they could see once their eyes adjusted to the sudden increase in light. Vince, or Vince as they knew him, was gone. In his place stood a wraith of fire, a human shape exuding continuous flames from his body. Columns of fire lanced the ground in front of him, creating a charred and burning landscape that would be treacherous even for most of these Supers to cross. Electricity crackled at his fingertips, dancing along his digits in a malicious foxtrot of anticipation. For most, that was all they saw. For the poor few
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