Black fireballs blazed through the air after Flashblast. Hob ignited his hands once more and sent handfuls of black flame towards the hero. Flashblast shot short sharp explosions of light back at him. The black fire simply swallowed it all up before exploding near the light-wielding Extrahuman.

  Flashblast was quick though and he dodged the fire, closing in on Hob. That was a mistake. Partly because Hob could just wield his blackfire on his hands and burn the man’s body to a crisp - although he wouldn’t do that - but also because Hob’s transformation made him very strong.

  Certainly stronger than a second rate super like Flashblast.

  Once Hob got his hands on him, it was over before either of them knew it. A hefty punch sent the hero sprawling and Hob was on his back and quickly choking the man with his lanky limbs. One elbow under the throat, the other securing that arm in place and pushing on the back of the head. Hob could feel the super start to go limp. Flashblast made one last attempt, activating his light powers to their max. Hob just closed his eyes to protect them, whilst the searing heat that would have scorched his skin in his human form simply felt like the gentle warmth of a hot summer’s day.

  It was no use for Flashblast. In no time at all the hero was sleeping like a baby under Hob’s powerful arms. A giant spandex-suited and mythically-empowered baby.

  But Flashblast hadn’t been Hob’s primary target. No, that was the moving armoured truck that the super had been protecting.

  The same truck that had by now raced all the way down to the other end of the street. Hob, however, came prepared.

  He had a literal partner in crime.

  That partner, Construct, soared by on his hovercraft. The thing looked like someone had stuck two bat wings together, painted the whole thing chrome and green and added dual exhausts. It just about fit the large extrahuman standing on top of it in his mechanical exoskeletal armour that matched the board, but Hob knew that Construct could put that thing up to some very high speeds if needed.

  Certainly faster than the truck that was currently trying to escape from them.

  Construct pulled up beside the armoured vehicle, preparing to forcibly enter it. He didn’t necessarily need it to stop. A dome on top of the truck opened up and a cannon shaped weapon rose out, aiming at Construct. It fired off a large metal net that was thrumming with electricity, that hit Construct at point blank.

  The anti-Flier defenses would have worked on most soaring supers, but Construct was a cut above the rest. He didn’t panic and simply paused in the air whilst using his sharply bladed forearms to saw through the net. He only needed to make a little gap in there to shoot out a jaggedy harpoon from his hovercraft that pierced into the hull of the armoured truck, jolting Construct along with it.

  The gyroscopic hovercraft remained relatively stable behind the truck as Construct sliced through the net piece by piece, patiently. Soon enough he had cut through so much that he could simply slough it off.

  Hob was sprinting behind them, his Hobgoblin form allowing him to reach much greater speeds than a regular human. That wasn’t just because of the super strength that it gave him, but also because this form was quite lanky. It was all skinny limbs and sinew. Still, although he was fast, he was nowhere near quick enough to catch up to the vehicle. He dodged the electric net that Construct had dodged behind him. His teammate might be immune to the electricity, but Hob had no desire to test whether he was.

  There was a thunk as Construct attached himself to the top of the truck roof and put his hand through the compartment. He ordered the guards inside to stop the vehicle, and they complied. His voice changer made his voice sound rough, mechanical and ominous. The two men in the cab appeared to be regular humans, but that didn’t mean the two aspiring supervillains would let their guard down. Even if they were regular humans, that didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous.

  Hob didn’t think they’d be too much of an issue though. The item they were after on that truck wasn’t exactly extremely valuable, it was just rare. A bit of super-tech that couldn’t exactly be replicated easily or cheaply by Construct, but could by the Extrahuman that made it.

  Hobgoblin ran to the back of the truck and started hitting it. Each smack left heavy dents in the door and it was only a matter of seconds before the door caved in. But as the door went inwards, something burst out.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  A heavy, thick rock-fist blasted Hob across the jaw, knocking his head back and forcing him to take a step back. It was a hard hit from a super that Hob didn’t recognise. His skin was covered in hardened grey rock, looking like an angular sort of cement. Most features were flat and his arms were square. It was like somebody had made a brutalist-inspired human. And he hit like it.

  Hob was no slouch though. He didn’t think he would win going blow for blow to the face with this super, but three quick stomps to a rocky kneecap put the stone super onto his back and clutching his leg. Hob was interested in the protection of the cementlike surface, so he threw one of his blackfire balls down beside the human statue. It exploded, dealing splash damage around it. A glancing hit, but the super still howled out in pain. It was a deep, gravelly howl.

  Interesting, thought Hob. He still didn’t have a good grasp of his power and the damage they did. Like most Extrahumans his powers grew as he did and as he practised them. He had thought that the blackfire might not even damage the super due to his stony protection, but there was a charred mark on the super’s arm.

  “Stay down,” said Hob menacingly, igniting his hand in the blackfire. The stone man put his arms up in submission. “Let’s go, Con,” Hob called up.

  There were boxes full of the item they were looking for inside. What it did exactly went over Hob’s head somewhat, but it was essentially an extremely precise stabiliser. Five different types of plasma were in there, in perfectly equal ratios, sorted by an Extrahuman with powers pertaining to plasma. It was good for scanning certain things, which is what Hob and Construct wanted it for.

  Construct brought his hovercraft over. A compartment opened at the bottom and a net dropped out from it. Hob started grabbing boxes and loading them into the cargo net. Really they only needed one box at most, but the villainous duo wanted this to look like a smash and grab, rather than looking like a directed heist. The harder it was for anyone to figure out their motives, the better.

  What they were working on could change the world.

  Hob had just finished loading the cargo net up with boxes - about half the truck’s worth - before he heard a feminine yell.

  “Stop right there!”

  “Get moving,” Hob said to Construct, who was already powering up his jets. Hob set his hand ablaze and turned to throw the dark eruption at the newcomers. There were five of them, and the blackfire faded as he saw their faces. Well - their masks anyway. Big, white, horned. They were angular and almost seemed made of hard paper. He recognised the masks from a drawing he’d seen a couple of years ago. The body types of the five that approached however, he saw every day.

  He stood there stunned. Three girls, two boys. He could identify them all by just a glance. One girl in the middle leading them, in a skintight outfit of all white and practically glowing as she hovered in the air. Eleanor. The girl Hob had had a crush on since he was thirteen.

  Next to her, the one who yelled, wore large gauntlets and an erratic purple and black costume design that looked like something out of an old punk gig. Loud, brash, endlessly nannying and getting on people and her outfit represented that. Super strength. Cassie.

  On the side of her was a boy in a grey non-descript outfit full to the brim with zippers. If it wasn’t for the white, horned mask on his face you might have just thought he was a regular guy. Frankie the Butterfly. His body was extremely bright under those clothes, a kaleidoscope of colour.

  On the other side of Eleanor was a boy with some serious heft to him. Brock was his name and he suited it. It was hard to tell if he was fat or muscular, it was all just meat. He was strong and resilient but his powers were mostly based around momentum. It wasn’t extremely clear how they worked, but Hob didn’t want to be on the wrong end of a running tackle from the lad.

  The last person, on the other side of the big lad, was a girl called Nameera. Her powers extended to generating water and then manipulating it. Hob wasn’t too familiar with how she used them, but he expected unorthodox tactics from her out of the gate.

  “Put the boxes down!” yelled Cassie. Because of course she did. Who else? The blackfire died in Hob’s hand. The whole thing was probably her idea, dressing up and playing teenage vigilante.

  “What are you doing?” hissed Construct.

  What was he doing? Hob stared at the girl in the middle. Skin of alabaster, hard as diamonds. The aura that let her float surrounded her. Nobody else had a power like that. What was she doing here? She was so… recognisable.

  Someone like Cassie could get away with it. Super strength was a fairly general power and the Bureau of Extrahuman Affairs and Training would have a hard time tracking her down. Eleanor, on the other hand, was playing it very risky. Frankie too, but at least he was trying to hide himself a bit.

  “Hob, scorch them!” Construct half-yelled as the would be vigilantes approached. Hob still felt like he was moving in maple syrup. He couldn’t do that, could he?

  “Go!” he told Construct. “Take the boxes. You know where I’ll meet you.”

  Construct hesitated before zooming off. Hob turned and ran in a different direction. The Extrahuman vigilantes followed.