No one noticed E when he walked the streets of Nocturnia.
Maybe it was the hoodie pulled over his head, or the way he kept his hands deep in his pockets, always clenching and unclenching like he was trying to squeeze something invisible out of them.
But mostly, people didn't see him because they didn't want to.
Once upon a time, he'd tried to be a hero.
He'd turned twenty-one and found out his powers were real: Superhuman strength when he drank alcohol. Regenerative healing when he smoked weed.
The catch? He was allergic to both.
A drink made him strong—and killed his liver.
A toke made him heal—and wrecked his lungs.
When he applied to the Hero Corps, they laughed in his face. "What, you gonna save kids while shotgunning a beer and hitting a bong? Get outta here."
So he walked the streets instead.
When a mugging happened, he intervened. Quietly. Brutally. Then walked away before anyone could thank him. The city called him a vigilante. The cops wanted him gone. The heroes? They looked the other way.
He was the guy you called when you had no one left to call.
Tonight was like most nights.
Barstool. Shot of whiskey in front of him. Joint half-burnt between his fingers. Watching.
He took the shot, and the world tilted.
Muscles surged under his jacket. He cracked his knuckles and left the bar.
But before he could step into the alley, three shadows blocked his path.
Three identical figures. All tall. All grinning.
The Triplets.
"You're a hard man to find," one of them said, twirling a knife.
"Wasn't hiding," E said, voice rough.
Another stepped forward. "Mayor says you're a waste of power. Thinks we should recycle you."
E sighed. "You sure you want this smoke?"
They lunged.
And E lit up.
The fight was chaos. Metal fists clanged. Bones shattered. But they kept coming—like three minds in one body. He knocked one out cold, only for the others to strike from behind.
He fought like a dying man who wanted to die.
And still, somehow, he stood.
Bloody. Limping. Laughing.
He stared at the last Triplet crawling away.
"Tell Hawkins..." he wheezed. "Tell him I ain't done yet."
He collapsed.
And the city swallowed him whole.