Hob ran down backroads and vaulted over chainlink fences through the maze of tall buildings. Frankie the Butterfly flew above him and opened various zippers on the clothes of his legs and arms, releasing spores above Hob. He recognised the colours of these ones - deep blue. They messed with his vision, but they were also slowing.

  Hob tried not to breathe any in, but it was difficult. It couldn’t be avoided, and it seemed like Frankie was quicker than him. A large dumpster smashed in front of him, thrown by Cassie. He wasn’t sure if she was actually trying to hit him and missed or if she was just trying to block off his escape route. What were they actually trying to do playing vigilante like this?

  Hard clear polished diamonds flew towards Hob and he jumped backwards to avoid them. Definitely from Eleanor, hovering above the ground not far from him. Probably not trying to kill him then, if she’d wanted that then she could’ve put sharp points on them. Brock barreled through the chainlink fence like it was nothing and continued charging towards Hob, whilst Cassie raced beside him.

  The danger caused Hob’s hands to involuntarily flare with blackfire once more, but he willed it away. There had to be a way out of this that didn’t involve him burning people he knew alive. If he could help it. He picked up the dumpster and threw it back at Cassie and Brock, who took it head on.

  Well, that’s a lot of money out of the public purse, thought Hob as the dumpster buckled and folded under the combined strength of the two Extrahumans. He kinda hoped that they’d back up or avoid it in order to minimise damages, but he guessed they weren’t that kind of vigilante.

  Eleanor send more diamonds flying towards him in a scattershot effect. He could do nothing but take them straight on. They didn’t hurt too badly, but he knew he couldn’t let her get close. Cassie and Brock were rounding on him now and Frankie was still floating overhead. Just what was their plan? Capture him? They obviously couldn’t deliver him all trussed up to the authorities, as they’d be in as much trouble as him. He doubted they could tie him up in something he couldn’t break or transform out of anyway, not that they knew that.

  A hard shot of water slapped him in the face, knocking his hoodie back off his face. That must be Nameera. He froze for a second, before realising they wouldn’t recognise the face of the Hobgoblin he’d turned into. Eleanor gasped at his appearance. It honestly hurt more than the scattershot diamonds had.

  “We know who you are now! Just give up!” yelled Cassie, throwing a punch at him. They don’t have a clue. Hob scoffed as he dodged and raised his front leg, planting his right foot directly in her face with his long limbs.

  She took it like a champ and swung at him again but he backed up, delivering a low kick to her ankle. She grunted and dropped down to one knee.

  Hob slipped on a patch of rapidly moving water behind him and landed hard. Nameera had made a little treadmill of water that caught him off guard. Worse than an ice patch, Hob thought. He rolled and was back on his feet before Cassie was though, just in time to be speared by Brock.

  Now that one hurt. The large boy had landed on top of him and whatever momentum-based power he had had transmitted a lot of force into Hob’s ribs. Hob was taller than the big lad in this form but much skinnier. He was all bones and wiry. He showed Brock just how bony he was by burying an elbow right in boys face. There was a satisfying grunt as Brock recoiled in pain. Hob decided to take his revenge nice and hot by wrapping his other hand around the back of Brock’s neck and planting a few more elbows right on the same spot as before - his left orbital. Brock started backing up as Hob laughed and another splash of water sliced across his face, hitting his jaw like a punch. They were starting to surround him now and Hob realised he had to get out of there.

  He once again considered his blackfire as the pain from Brock’s hit had made him remarkably less worried about injuring them properly, but his clarity returned before that. Frankie was the only one that could catch up with him. If he could put Frankie down for long enough, he could get moving. He knew if he stopped breathing in the blue stuff then the effects would quickly wear off.

  “Now!” yelled Cassie.

  A small diamond wall appeared behind him. A cannonball sized diamond fired off at him from Eleanor, with all the speed associated with the big gun. A second later and a large crash rang out. Hob grunted in pain as his wrists burned in horrible pain. All part of his plan. It was painful, but catching the diamond ball was what he’d wanted to do.

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  He span and launched the ball upwards one-handed like a baseball player, striking Frankie directly in the sternum with it, exactly where Eleanor had tried to get Hob. Frankie let out a pitiful sound followed by a thud as he fell to the ground like a butterfly with its wings cut.

  “You!” exclaimed Eleanor. She fired more diamonds at Hob.

  “Bastard!” snarled Cassie. She made a move to get after him but Nameera, who had watched with eyes wide as Frankie fell, was incensed. She let out a cry as she fired off barrages of water shots at Hob, so much so that Cassie couldn’t get to him without subjecting herself to them.

  Hob dodged the diamonds and started running, but was subjected to the peppering of the hard water shots. They tickled his back as he ran and he involuntarily started laughing as he made his escape. Cassie and Brock tried to follow him but without Frankie slowing him down they simply couldn’t catch up.

  Within no time he had lost them.

  He kept on running. Their appearance had startled him and he wished he could have got away without causing any unnecessary damage, but actually he’d quite enjoyed the fight itself. He felt a bit bad about what he’d done to Frankie, but that boy had a seriously good healing factor. He would be fine.

  Brock he didn’t feel so bad about. The boy had seriously hurt him, which was a surprise. But it was also incredibly reckless. Brock had no idea how durable Hob was. If Hob wasn’t supernaturally tough that hit could have squashed him like a bug. And he knew for a fact that nobody in their little vigilante team that they’d apparently assembled had any way of healing an injured person. If Brock had killed someone tonight, those guys would be in some serious shit.

  Hob took a leisurely stroll back to the rendezvous point with Construct, their little base they’d made years ago. Of course, it had been upgraded a lot since those days. Now it was a cutting edge aspiring supervillain hideout, where once it had been a hovel. Hob realised he had another fight coming once he got through the door and got a box of gadgets thrown at him.

  “What?” said Hob, annoyed. He’d had enough of projectiles for one night.

  “What the hell was that? You froze!” Construct yelled at him.

  “They were just…” Hobgoblin knew he couldn’t say what he wanted to say. They go to my school. Construct didn’t know his identity and he wouldn’t reveal it. “So young.”

  “What?”

  “Their voices, the way they carried themselves. Reminded me of what we were like.”

  “They were probably the same age as us. You’re the fighter! Get it together. I don’t care if we’re fighting a super baby, it’s still dangerous.”

  “Settle down, alright? We made it out just fine. They just caught me off guard is all. That only happens once.”

  “Hope so.”

  “We got the goods, didn’t we?”

  “We did, now we’ve gotta figure out how to move the excess.”

  That was a big part of their operation. Pretending that they were just smuggling random objects to other villains rather than making something of their own. Luckily they never needed much of what they took.

  “I thought you knew a guy in Spaceman’s clique?” asked Hob.

  “Yeah but now that some vigilantes are involved I reckon the heat from the League will be higher. He might not want it. We’ll see how fast Spaceman is moving.”

  “He better be moving quick. The League might still be deliberating, but if Super doesn’t approve then they’ll all fall in line eventually.”

  “Fine. Whatever. We’ll sit on this for a few days and then I’ll find him,” said Construct.

  They stayed there a while longer, talking. They went through their post-mission rituals, like having takeout from their favourite Tibetan restaurant and bragging about what they’d accomplished in an over the top, dramatic flair.

  “...And then after STOMPING the strong vigilante down underfoot, I swatted the floating insect from the air like a bug…”

  This helped them process the night and destress. Hob couldn’t quite remember when they’d started doing it, but it definitely eased his nerves for when he was lying in bed late at night, unable to sleep because he was going over the actions of the day in his head again and again.

  He headed back from their lair and stopped in a park. Hob often switched up his changing locations. He transformed under his hoodie, back into his regular form as an eighteen year old boy. He closed his ear holes and turned his hoodie inside out, which changed the colour and style. His trousers had a hidden zip that he pulled and it overlaid them with a lightweight denim-like material. The flared style hid his shoes. He and Construct designed these way back.

  He headed home, avoiding the more dangerous areas that he’d come through in his other form. He grunted to his parents as he passed them and they barely replied, news blaring from the TV. They were both browsing on their phones anyway, on a differently filtered but materially identical form of news.

  Hob - now Marcus - got into bed and closed his eyes. He had school tomorrow, after all.