Striding through the glass doors of the pizzeria, the bell jingles and few people turn their heads. There aren’t many patrons being served at the moment; a handful of groups sitting around a four seated table, all with varying numbers in their groups.

Although, there’s one or two loners. It’s not much of a surprise to see most of the chairs are empty, the place is pretty much established in a cold, deserted area and likely doesn’t have such a good health rating if that smell is what I think it is.

These patrons are more than likely to be regulars, here since the start and thereby immune or impervious to the stench leaking out from back in the kitchen.

It has all the regular things you’d see in such an establishment, except, not as maintained. For example, they’ve got a fridge for refreshments where anyone can walk up to and purchase the items they need or have the waiter bring it to them.

But the fridge has next to nothing in it. It’s got the shining logo of the energy drink corporation that sold it out but ironically none of said energy drink; just water and what looks like someone’s half eaten sandwich.

Their display for pastries is also very empty and in a strange manner, it’s far cleaner than the rest of the Pizzeria.

The establishment has certainly been falling on hard times, I’m not sure if this is because they won’t pay Rey and his people, and Rey’s taken to hurting their market, or if this is just one of those grooves businesses fall into when they’re just about dying.

Either way, the debt still stands and with the bell announcing our entrance, we have the attention of half the patrons with the glaring yellow we wear. Of course, most eyes are on Rex, he looks pretty silly in that bright yellow jacket.

The waiter – or perhaps the owner himself by the middle-aged weary look on him – walks up to us, notebook and pen in hand.

“Hello gentlemen.” He greets. Up close the man falls around the same height as I, it’s a bit encouraging.

Looking up to Rex he smears a grin across his face like he’s about to hear the silliest joke ever as he asks, “What brings you here today?”

Rex, to his credit, does not falter in delivering his line. “Are you Ramon?”

“Ah yes, yes I am.”

Tilting his head Rex looks as sceptical as I, “You’re the owner of this establishment? Not the waiter?”

Ramon smiles, spreading his arms wide as if to say ‘It is I’

Rex nods, “Alright, well, you should know why we’re here.”

“How could I? I can’t read minds, or can I? I’m not sure yet, the latest age for the meta gene to bloom is seventy and I’m at a healthy fifty.”

I can’t help but chuckle at the joke, for the most part I can relate immensely to that thinking; clinging onto statistics while hoping that sometime in my future, when I’m older I’d be able to handle my powers and give Neil the beating he so deserves.

Turns out I didn’t really need to wait, Steve helped me out dearly on that front, although, now I’ll never get to know if it would have happened, if I could have controlled these powers at an older age better than I could when I was young.

“Ahhh, he gets it!” Ramon cheers, his elderly, wrinkled grin in place.

Rex gives me a disapproving look causing me to reel.

Is he…is he trying to say he’s disappointed, the guy who couldn’t even speak to his damn cousin? Why I oughta-

“We’re here for the tax, you owe Rey and by extension, Invincibill five months of unpaid tax.” Rex declares, by now most of the patrons are watching our interaction at the edge of their seats.

Leaning forward and over to compensate for the height difference, Rex says to the grinning mans face, “Fork it up already old man.”

Now the atmosphere begins to get stuffy. The man’s grin doesn’t seem so hearty any longer.

“What are such young and promising young men like you doing in a gang, hm?” He starts, not inching back one bit despite Rex breaching his personal space. With his eyes wide open he speaks as though there isn’t another person’s face in his right now.

“Come work for me, you’ll make honest, clean and good money. Every pay check will give you a soothing feeling, I can guarantee it!” He says, snapping his fingers excitedly.

Rex straightens up after an embarrassingly long time of being ignored and hisses, “Don’t play games damn it! I don’t want to have to hurt you!” Whipping out his gun and pulling back the slide he heaves, heavy unequal breathes.

An action that causes more than a few terrified screams from our unwilling audience.

Aw shit, here we go again, he’s spiralling.

Must be something in their blood, Rey and Rex. The two just seem to go off the handle at the slightest thing.

“Rex, relax.” I try to calm him down, tapping his hand but he shoves me away almost immediately.

“Shut up! This is it; this is what you got me to sign up for, Vern!”

Ramon chuckles, “I don’t want to have to hurt you either, dear boy. I think we can come to a compromise since we have such common values.”

This man must be either really prepared for death or is actually as dangerous as the list implies.

“Fine then,” Rex yells, “You made your choice.”

In the moment he raises his gun to aim it at the old man my eyes widen terribly as I get my answer in mere moments.

Ramon’s eyes begin to glow, spark even. Perhaps it’s a side effect of my powers but everything seems to move slowly; the fall of Ramon’s cherry smile, the rise of Rex’s hand and the electricity arching through the air from Ramon’s eyes.

And then the slow effect stops.

In a clean, swift and precise movement Ramon ducks under Rex’s raise arm and violently palms his chest. Electricity burst out violently through his palm and courses into Rex, blasting him out the glass door at speed terrifying, deathly speed.

“Shit!” I involuntarily yell.

Ramon, eyes still glowing yellow and with power turns to me, “Shit…is right.”