"What'd I tell you about sneaking up on me?" Night Dragon helped him up.
"To not to," Jason shrugged.
He had found the caped crusader fighting off about five armed criminals. Night Dragon glanced down at one of them trying to crawl away. With a swift kick to the head, the thug went unconscious.
"What's it now?" She sighed as she wrapped cable around her victims.
"I don't really have a great reason," he scratched the back of his neck, "thought you were at a robbery scene."
   "I was," Night Dragon stood up, "finished that and then caught these bozos in the alleyway."
   Jason's earpiece was causing an annoying buzzing sound in his ear, he switched it off. Brian would probably complain about it later, but he brushed that thought aside.
   "Well," he paused, "I wanted to know...when do you think I can get out into the field?"
   "Is that a joke?"
   "I don't think you laugh."
   "True. Not for a while," she shook her head, "you could easily get killed. Remember, not everyone out on the street is a worthless criminal. Some are assassins, trained, or...like the Incinerator."
   "Bet my friend could come up with a better name," Jason thought out loud, then he realized he was talking. "I've been training for almost a month now! Plus I have way more strength then I thought I did. Come on!"
   "I said no!" She hissed, her brown eyes glittering with rage.
   In that second, he saw what everyone thought she was like. A person with no limits, no mercy, and no compassion. He always saw the vigilante as someone who was trying to do good.
   "I'm sorry," he sighed, "you're right, I am not ready."
   "It's not that," Night Dragon shut her eyes, "you remind me so much of him. You want to make a difference, want to do more, want to, want to, want to. I always complained that he was too adventurous, too brave. When I start getting brave, he gets killed. That's why, Jason, you may be ready."
   "Aw ain't that sweet," one of the thugs muttered.
   Jason gave him a solid punch to the side of the head, earning a nod from the vigilante. The anger faded from her eyes, returning to their normal emotionless brown. A silver of moon shone through the smog, illuminating the dusty streets. People with hoods up walked down the streets, enjoying the last bit of autumn before the harsh winter.
   "What do you want to do?" The vigilante asked.
   "Me?" Jason asked, shocked. "Don't you think I shouldn't be 'vigilanting' without a mask or something?"
   "I won't make you wear a spangly outfit," she blinked, "but you need to at least wear a mask."
   She handed him a black mask that looked fitted to his face. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind, most of them questioning if he would morph into a gravel voiced superhero. Plus a random, 'Brian' thought passed through his head. It was mostly if he could date the vigilante now. One look at the green and black clothed hero changed his mind. Jason placed it over his eyes, the high tech cloth covering his eyes and nose. The mask didn't have a strap, which confused him.
   "It's a bonding agent," Night Dragon explained, "it attaches to your face like velcro, it'll peel of."
   "Um, why does it fit me perfectly?"
   "One size fits most."
   "Is that a joke?" He waggled his eyebrows under the mask.
   "What do you think?"
   "I think I'll shut up now."
   "The night is still young," she smirked, and he mentally cheered that she used a facial expression, "let's go clean up Eximius."
   "Couldn't think of anything better to do."
  She rolled her eyes and shot her grappling hook up a building, reaching her hand out expectantly. He waved it off, running towards the busking across the alley. Jason jumped, his foot hitting a window ledge. Leaping up, his hands grasped a cool metal pipe. Swinging his legs, Jason flipped onto the flat roof. The vigilante was already standing at the top, crossing her arms.
   "You know it would've been easier to just get a ride from me."
   "Wanted to show I could climb a building."
   "You succeeded," she reached her arm up and shot another grapple line, "but showed me you're stubborn."
   Before she could swing off again, he accepted her offer and took her hand. It would've been romantic if he wasn't screaming with his mouth shut. She was going a lot faster than the first time they did this. He could open his eyes, however. The mask had a clear covering over his eyes.
"Murder," Night Dragon said, "Jefferson and Twelfth Avenue."
   They landed on a lower warehouse, probably only 30 feet tall. He felt underdressed compared to Night Dragon's battle prepared outfit. Jason didn't exactly have a weapon, and had only been training with one.
   "How do you expect me to fight?" Jason asked, "I don't have any weapons or armor."
   "Which weapon are you comfortable with?"
   "I haven't exactly tried them."
   "And I don't have a magic satchel of weapons."
   "Thanks for crushing my dreams," Jason sighed, "what do you think we should do?"
   "We need to get to the sight," she said, "the murderer is on the run, speeding down I-94 South."
   "We can't let him get to Harbor City," Jason widened his eyes, "their police force is short in numbers."
   "Think bigger," Night Dragon shook her head, talking fast. "They just killed John Wirwint."
   "Oh no."
   "The chief of police's death won't have a good impact, don't you think?"
   "How fast can you get there?" Jason panicked.
   "This is why your not ready for the field," she peered at the road. "You panic too easily, Jason."
   "I'll go back you your base."
   "It's only two blocks away."
   "Yeah, that's why I'm going there."
   "Bye."
   A second after the word leaves her mouth, the vigilante swung into the night.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

Jason spun around in her chair, staring up at the swinging lights. Normally, he would search Night Dragon's base for cool stuff and tech, but he bet there were secret traps he would probably accidentally trigger. His eyes drifted to another door behind her costume stand.  Out of curiously he went over to the door, pushing at it. Of course it did not budge, but he took a step back. Being the dork he was, his calf bumped a sword, the metal causing a loud "clang" when it hit the ground. There was a thumb scan on the right of the door. Why would my print be added? Jason thought, she barely trusts me with anything.
   Going against his thoughts, as soon as his finger touched the pad, the door clicked open. Confused, he hastily pushed open the concrete door, his muscles straining. The lights were out in this room, cold hung in the air, dust all across the floor, showing no one came in here often.  
   Feeling the wall for a light switch, he flicked up a lever. One by one the lights flickered on, leading to the back of the room. Jason walked across the room, trying to make out what was in the back of the room. His tennis shoes made light footsteps on the concrete floor, but the sound still echoed on the metal walls. In many ways it reminded him of the corridor he discovered in his very room. Located against the wall was a glass case, like where the Night Dragon kept her extra suit on a clear mannequin. Hung up in it was a black suit, with the strong material that he knew would stop knives. Painted onto each shoulder was a white scythe, a symbol engraved on it. There was no cape on the combat suit, or mysterious hood. On the head was a black mask, white designs painted onto it. A silver plaque was embedded into the case on the bottom.

                Black Skull
                1996-2013
             Legends Live On
     But Heroes Will Never Die.

   A flash of pain stroke him in the head, as usual. Images passed through his mind again, more painful this time. Fire danced in his eyes, enveloping him. He pulled the mask off his face, falling towards the ground. The last things he heard was the door opening and a gloved hand trying to catch him.