Xiathis

The bustling hallways of Valor&Verse headquarters buzzed with activity as Styx, known to a select few as Xiathis, strode purposefully towards the meeting room. His lithe form, clad in stylish dark streetwear, moved with a grace that belied his irritation. The fluorescent lights overhead caught the electric blue of his eyes, which were narrowed in annoyance beneath long lashes.

As he walked, other heroes and staff members instinctively gave him a wide berth. Whether it was his reputation for biting sarcasm or the palpable aura of frustration radiating off him, no one dared to engage. Styx's mind raced, replaying the events that led to this moment - the heated argument with upper management, his refusal to back down, and now this punishment disguised as 'mentorship'.

He reached the meeting room door, pausing for a moment to collect himself. With a deep breath, he pushed it open, the cool metal handle a stark contrast to the warmth of his skin. The room was sparsely furnished, with a long table dominating the center and chairs arranged neatly around it. Large windows offered a panoramic view of NeoYork's skyline, the city he'd sworn to protect despite its flaws - much like himself.

Styx's gaze swept the room, taking in every detail with the analytical mind that had kept him alive on the streets and made him a formidable hero. He noted the exits, the cameras in the corners, and the way the light hit the polished surface of the table. Old habits died hard, even in a supposedly safe environment.

As he waited for his new 'mentee' to arrive, Styx's mind drifted to the weight of the combat knife hidden beneath his clothes. It was a constant reminder of his past, of the brothers he'd lost, and the life he'd fought to escape. Now, at 26, he was a respected - if difficult - member of Valor&Verse, but part of him would always be that street kid from 6th Street.

The silence of the room was broken only by the soft tapping of Styx's fingers on the table's surface. He toyed with the idea of using his blink ability to simply vanish from this situation, but he knew better. He'd worked too hard to throw it all away over something as trivial as mentorship duty. Still, the thought of having to play nice with some green rookie made his skin crawl.

Styx's sharp mind began to formulate a plan. If he had to do this, he'd do it his way. He'd show this newbie the real world of heroing - not the glossy, sanitized version Valor&Verse liked to present. Maybe he could even have some fun with it, push some buttons, see what this rookie was really made of.

A smirk played at the corners of his mouth as he imagined the possibilities. He could use this as an opportunity to hone his manipulation skills, to see how quickly he could throw the newbie off balance with his shifting personas. One moment, the boyish charm; the next, a flirtatious tease. It would be a game, and Styx always played to win.

As footsteps approached the door, Styx's posture shifted. He leaned back in his chair, the picture of nonchalant confidence, his face a mask of aloof indifference. Whoever this newbie was, they were about to get a crash course in the real world of heroics, Styx-style.

The door handle turned, and Styx prepared himself for the encounter. His voice, dripping with sarcasm, broke the silence just as the door began to open.

"Well, well," he drawled, his electric blue eyes fixed on the entrance. "Let's see what fresh-faced, starry-eyed idealist they've saddled me with today. Welcome to the real world, kid. Hope you're ready for a reality check."

Xiathis--or rather, Styx, had just finished his nighthero shift and was content to walk back to Valor&Verse to finish paperwork and get the hell home. All said and done it had been a successful outing today. A little sneaking into a Yakuza lord's drug den disguised as a harmless plaything, a bit of slaughtering every single one of the hardened men in their confined little cooking room, and finally the cherry on top of snuffing out the crime lord's life. It was good work, cleaning up the streets, but Xiathis would be lying if he didn't get a little thrill watching powerful men shiver in their boots and beg before the light drained from their eyes.

No one would have expected it of course, he looked perfectly out of place walking down the street with an easy bounce to his step. Styx's uniform was simple and nondescript, a body hugging suit that looked like some form of performance material meant to look like leather. Thankfully, more breathable than it looked. His short stature left him about shoulder height to most men that passed by, about 5'6" or so. but those that underestimated the hero did it at their own risk. His face was young looking, pretty around the edges and punctuated by dark skin and unsettlingly bright, blue eyes.

Xiathis hadn't expected to run into the situation he had in the old town district. He had turned the corner right when some old, washed up hero was making declarations about spectacle. He snorted loudly to himself at the advice, shaking his head. That guy was going to get those kids or himself ki-- oh, holy shit.

Suppressing a soft laugh of shock, the pupils in Styx's electric blue eyes dilated as he saw the scene as a whole. There was a big fish playing here, the fucking hero killer himself, cornering and lecturing the newbies that suddenly found themselves over their head. Chaos erupted at the first sign of blood, with civilians scattering to the wind. With practiced, efficient movements, he unsheathed most of the knifes out of his utility belt, keeping only two ceramic blade knives. While it was the responsibility of dayheros to do this 'kaiju battle' bullshit, something in the way Cain spoke made his fingers itch.

The hero killer was a mystery to most, considering heroes often time didn't survive first contact, and he loved a good mystery.

The eager rookie, some young man with chestnut colored hair and a blue suit made the wrong move, choosing to dash forward to intercept the villain. Behind him the young woman cried out to come back, smart but too late. All while the spear hung ominously in the air, vibrating with the promise of destruction. In one heartbeat, the world seemed to change as it lunged forward to seek it's target.

Styx dashed forward then, putting himself in range for his ability. Blink, an ability that allowed him to teleport about 30 feet or so. Right as the stop sign was about to make impact, he appeared to the side of it and kicked his foot out with practiced grace. With a screech of protesting metal it careened off course and impacted deep into the cement next to the shocked rookie. "A bit above your coding, you think?" Styx greeted the newbie with amusement. "Go on, take your friend and get out of here."

He turned to Cain then, eyeing the redhead with undisguised interest, a decidedly feline smile spreading on that boyish face of his. "My, my. I heard you were a bad man, but picking on fresh blood like that?" Xiathis gestured vaguely to the escaping rookies. "Do you know how annoying those mandatory therapy sessions the agencies put you in are? Not to mention the paperwork-- oh, I guess the trauma too. That's not very nice of you, is it?"