That night, Thunderstorm returned like he promised. Only that it wasn't night anymore and it was seven in the morning, where it was Solar's bedtime and everyone else's time to wake up.

He barged into the living room when Thorn was trying to get to his garden, shoving past the plant-manipulator and storming straight to his room. His posture was slouched, twisted as if the night's endeavors had broken both his body and spirit. He didn't even bother to close his room door, only the sound of a body collapsing onto a bed echoed from the dark space.

"That's it," Cyclone said after a long silence. "I'm going out."

"Thunderstorm told you not to," Ice grumbled, dipping a tea leaf packet into his cup of hot water. He groaned, then yawned. He was still sleepy. "I'd suggest not going against what he says, especially if he's dead tired."

"Screw him and his pikachu plushie," Cyclone snapped. "I'm going out for patrol."

"Why his pikachu plushie?" Thorn quizzed.

"Why now?" Quake asked. "It's Blaze's turn. He's already outside."

"Fuck that. I haven't had stardust for months and Thunderstorm never helps me buy any even if I said please."

"So your reasoning to going against the pikachu's orders is because of your incurable sugar addiction?"

"Maybe."

Quake sighed and stood from the kitchen table. "Fine," he relented, massaging his temples. "I'm coming with."

Ice glanced over, already deciding that taking this fight was too much of a hassle. Instead of stopping them like he should've, he watched them change and walk out the door like Thunderstorm's death threat wasn't hanging over their heads like a snapping chandelier.

Moments later, a crash erupted from Thunderstorm's room, presumingly he fell off his bed and landed on his head. Loud, colourful curses soon followed, which Ice covered Thorn's innocent ears to shield them from the corrupting words.

"'Fuck'?" Thorn asked.

Ice groaned like he was already at death's door. "Lord give me the strength."

Even more time later, Thunderstorm emerged from his room, looking as fresh as ever. There wasn't a trace of sleepiness on him, as if he'd slept for days instead of an hour and a half. He looked around the house, and he stopped dead at the door.

"Ice," Thunderstorm called, still not turning inside. Ice couldn't see his expression, but he knew that the dude was fuming and his teeth could chew through steel.

"Hm?" Ice asked lazily, still yawning.

"Where are they?" It didn't take a genius to know that he was talking about the two doltheads, but Ice kept silent.

When Ice didn't answer, Thunderstorm's muscles clenched. The slingbag on his shoulder fell to the ground with a thud, and the electrokinetic sped out of the neighbourhood, faster than anytime they had seen before, because apparently handing out detention slips were more crucial than defeating Borara or Vargoba.

* * *

Cyclone found trouble as soon as he walked into the shop area. With only one person patrolling the city, there was too much ground to cover, which caused the majority of the crimes to be untended.

He saw the group of aliens (who had blue skin and four legs instead of two and smelled of snakes) holding a mall hostage, which was good news for him, and bad news for them. He could finally get some action after being locked in the house for so long.

After skipping from police view and reporters, he snuck into the mall by the back door and hid in one of the clothing stores. Hiding behind lines of dresses and baby clothes, he coud see plenty of feet rushing about, dragging a sack behind them like a demented Santa Claus, with holes tearing in the cheap fabric revealing cosmetics, jewlery and other shiny things.

Why would aliens steal make up? Did they power some alien ships? Were they worth that much for disguises? What other race would focus so much on appearance other than humans? The amount of plastic in people's bodies nowadays could consider them to be thrown into recycling bins.

Cyclone waited until they were gathered into a group, going over their collected goods. His powers worked best in a crowd, so it was wise to stay hidden. On the left, he could see the hostages locked in one of the baby shops, crying but daren't call for help.

Well, help had arrived. As the aliens began to leave the store in their ship, Cyclone stepped out of the clothing racks and yelled, "Hey! Snake people!"

The group of humanoids turned simultaneously, their lizard-like eyes ogling like googly-eyes in shock.

"You missed one, you no-brains!" The leader ranted at his crew, holding up his blaster. Instantaneously, the others followed him and aimed all their weapons at Cyclone, red laser dots dotting all over Cyclone's body.

"Hey!" Cyclone raised his hands. "Can't we settle this a nicer way?" One of the lizards fired his blaster, the energy blast landing centimeters apart from his head, shattering the mirror inside the clothing shop. "I guess not."

He raised his palms, and ribbons of wind immediately started to circle him in a dome. The current picked up like a hurricane, living up to his namesake, and a hurricane started to form at the alien's feet, pulling them off their four feet.

"EIYEEE!" The aliens screeched, all dropping their blasters. Their blasters were swept up into the winds, too, but they could never find their balance or any sense of direction. On multiple occasions their bodies crashed into each other, grunting as the cycle repeated.

Cyclone whistled as the aliens' screams were drowned out by the roar of the hurricane and the destruction of concrete and property. He studied his fingernails in relaxation, never noticing cracks forming on the walls, the structure shaking unsteadily. The hostages however, noticed this, and began to panic. Some screamed out to him, some pounded on the reinforced glass, but their efforts were in vain as he couldn't hear them over the hurricane.

After a few minutes, Cyclone decided that it was enough. He snapped his fingers and the hurricane disappeared instantly, and the alien criminals dropped to the ground like a bug splat.

"MISTER! THE CEILING!" a girl's shrill voice pierced through the silence.

Cyclone looked up abruptly, only to see huge chunks of debris falling down on him. The ground quaked, and the place was falling apart like building blocks falling apart. He raised his arms over his head too late--

A roof of earth grew over his head, the concrete and rocks clattering harmlessly over the roof. "Cyclone!" Quake screamed, dashing through the collapsing building with his rocky fists. He raised his left arm, and a golem erupted from the ground by his side. The golem's fists tore through the roof of the baby shop, his fist opening for the hostages to climb onto.

"Great timing as always!" Cyclone grinned. "Let's get out of here!" A solid slab of wind lifted the alien criminals, following after Quake's golem that burst from the back of the mall by busting a massive hole through the wall.

They made it out of the mall just before it collapsed into a massive pile of rubble. The hostages hopped down from the golem's fist and ran far, far away. Wise choice.

Cyclone laid the villains down onto the floor, and thankfully the area was vacant. They could call TAPOPS in peace without attracting much attention.

"How did the building collapse?" Quake asked, slouched over, hands on waist as he caught his breath. His golem sank back to the ground, leaving no trace of it. "Did they plant bombs?"

Cyclone frowned, only now just realizing. "No..." He looked at the group of thieves. "They didn't." Did he miss something? "Besides, they didn't have any time, and there were no explosions or fires."

Quake grunted. "At least we caught them." He turned to Cyclone's hands, which were empty. "Do you think you caused that?"

"Me?" Cyclone pointed to himself. "Ha! I wish. My powers can't even destroy a flower even if I wanted it to. All I did was spin them around."

"Still, that was a good run!" Quake stretched his limbs. "I miss being in action. It's been so lon-"

"Elemental Drain."

Quake and Cyclone screamed as soon as the process started, with no time to even react. From the back, they realized. But that couldn't be- Retakka was dead. Unless he returned...

The traumatic memory of last time flashed in front of their eyes, with amplified fear and trauma increasing each second. They fell to their knees, their powers slipping away from them like melting butter slipping through fingertips. They clenched their teeth and squeezed their eyes shut as their last bits of powers were drained away-

It stopped, leaving them weak and frail, with only fragments of their elemental energy left to keep their physical bodies from fading, but not enough to recover fully. They collapsed to the floor, their body numb and weak.

He's back, Cyclone lipped weakly to Quake, who barely had the energy to reply. His eyes were half-lidded, but they sharpened slightly as a shadow was cast between them, a shadow that looked very much like a human, not an alien.

"All I told you was to stay put," Thunderstorm's voice echoed, shocking them still, "but you can't even listen to one thing until I undo Retakka's damage..." His voice softened, as if he now only remembered that he was reenacting their villain's crimes and his victims were his dear friends. "It's not fair, it was never fair. Never fair..."

His voice trailed off, as he can't bring himself to continue his speech. "I..." He looked down to his friends. "I-"

"Thunderstorm?" Cyclone wisped, not believing his eyes. "You can- you... Elemental Drain... Why?"

Thunderstorm didn't reply. Instead, he knelt down and slammed his fist onto the ground, which caused the ground around them to sink, and dirt slowly encased them like a cocoon.

"Thunder..." Quake said weakly, raising his hand. "Why didn't you..."

The earth closed over them, and when they opened their eyes again, they were on their beds, with the others looming over them in worry.