“A fight broke out at the gas station today…”

“Oil prices are reaching record levels…”

“Blackouts are being reported as power plants shut down across the globe…”

“The government implemented strict rationing today…”

“Mass protests in D.C. demanding the government release its reserves. Government officials have refused to comment…”

“A curfew is in place in Shanghai…”

“Just who is responsible for this?”

Let’s turn back the clock a bit.

It was a small, dark room on a quiet night. In the center of the room was a round table. A single lamp hung over the table, the only source of light in the room, illuminating the table and just a bit beyond it. Around the table sat several figures in body armor and masks fashioned from bone and leather.

“Ok, we have our orders. We’re supposed to steal some oil.”

“Get your eagles folks, looks like we got some liberating to do”

“So what’s the target?”

“...Freeport.”

“...we’re robbing Uncle Sam? Of oil?”

“Liberating. He’ll understand.”

“...ok let’s assume the NSA didn’t hear that and Seal Team Six isn’t on the way to whoop our sorry butts. That’s 250 million barrels. How are we supposed to move all that? Bucket brigade across the ocean? We couldn’t get enough trucks even if they’d let us drive them in.”

“Chris, you have that part time on the weekend, right?

In the middle of the Indian Ocean, a woman rushed along the sea. She had a tall and thin figure, blue hair and glowing blue eyes on her head. She wore a pointed blue witch’s hat, a blue cape, and a blue one piece swimming suit. In her hand was a rod of hardened drift wood topped with a gleaming sapphire. Her legs were buried in a surging wave that carried her forward. In front of her stood an abandoned oil platform, covered in rust, barnacles, and condensed salt.

As she approached the platform she lifted the rod above her head with both hands. The wave twisted around her, forming a twister of water and mist that propelled her into the air. The spiraling torrent arced in the air, leaving the woman on top of the platform.

“It’s over, Dr. Delfino! Surrender!”

In front of her was a wiry man. He had scattered white hair that curled this way and that and a pair of swimming goggles over his wrinkled face. He wore an open lab coat over an Aloha shirt and a pair of swimming trunks. On his back was a water tank connected to a hose in his hand.

“You are too late, Aqua Mage! Now that the Super Liquid Intake Compression Kleptomania-anator device is ready, the world’s oceans shall belong to Dr. Delfino! Muahahahahaha! Minions, activate the SLICK!”

A moment of silence.

“Ahem, I said, minions, activate the SLICK!”

Still nothing.

Dr. Delfino turned around and glanced around the platform.

“Minions?”

The platform was empty.

He turned back around. Aqua mage waved her rod in front of her, forming geometric patterns out of glowing blue light. As she did, dozens of balls of water began to form in the air.

“Um, you wouldn’t hit an old man, would you?”

Jets of water surged forth.

On a speedboat driving away from the platform, a minion in scuba gear whistled and spun the steering wheel. In the back of the speedboat were a couple more minions surrounding a cylindrical device covered with a tarp.

“Ok so we got the SLICK, how are we going to get it inside? One does not simply walk into Uncle Sam’s special cache.”

“Then we walk under it.”

Two men wore hardhats and blast shields over their faces as they stood in a tunnel, sweat dripping down their necks. Before them a massive drill on treads ground threw the rock and dirt. One looked down at an electronic pad while the other held a remote for the drill.

The one with the pad held his hand up. The other flicked a switch and drill wound down. He leaned over to take a look at the pad. On the pad, a green dot now overlapped with a red one.

The two men bumped fists.

“A drill? Seriously? That’s not exactly quiet. They’re going to notice, you know?”

“Then we distract them.”

“How?”

“Bombs.”

“Bombs?”

“Bombs.”

A truck drove up to the entry to the Bryan Mound facility’s loading dock. The watchman kept his eyes on his newspaper as he pointed to a panel.

“ID please.”

Nothing happened.

He continued reading his newspaper.

A truck behind them honked.

He sighed and looked up.

“ID…please?”

There was no one in the truck, just a camera and a robotic arm tied to the steering wheel.

“What the heck?”

The man got up out of his station and walked around the truck. Not a soul in sight. Scratching his head he walked to the back and lifted the door.

And fell back on his butt.

That was a lot of bombs.

“Breaking news folks, the Freeport site of the Strategic Petroleum Reserve was evacuated today due to a bomb threat. Bomb squad is on site and working to disarm the threat. Officials have not yet released a statement but there is widespread speculation that this is an act of terrorism.”

“Ok, so we got underneath and we filled up the SLICK, but doesn’t that thing still weigh a ton when it’s full? How the heck are we going to move it? It’ll go right through a truck!”

“Senior Brother Wu, could we get an assist?”

“You dare?! You are courting death asking this young master to act like a common mule!”

“So…”

“He’s on board.”

A man in silk robes and an armored helmet strode through a tunnel, carrying a large cylindrical device on his shoulder with a single arm. Behind him was an empty salt cavern, a few black drops and puddles scattered about.

"Nice one Wu!"

A man held his hand up high. Senior Brother Wu ignored him. The man looked down.

A blur flew through the air and hit the man's hand. He slammed into the ground with a shriek.

Senior Brother Wu smirked and continued his stroll.

“Well ok. We got the oil. Crouching Tiger there can waltz right out with it. Then what? It still won’t fit on a plane, how are we going to get it across the ocean?”

“Senior Brother Wu can fly.”

“...of course he can.”

“Well that’s well and dandy, but explain how us absolutely normal, regular guys with no powers are going to escape from Seal Team Six? After we stole Uncle Sam’s oil with a bomb threat.”

“We don’t.”

“We don’t?!”

“We give them someone else to catch.”

A man hidden in a black cloak approached the normal entrance to the Byron Mound facility. He pulled back his arm, sleeve falling to reveal wicked black claws with a red shine to them. He swung his hand forward.

Red light tore through the air, cutting through the entrance. The man stepped through the cloud of dust. He tore off his cloak, revealing himself to the world.

His face was scarred and deformed, red light pulsing along his veins. He had black and red protrusions all over his face and exposed torso, down into his black pants. Three wicked black claws were grafted onto his right arm, shimmering red with every pulse of his veins.

He spoke with a deep and grating voice.

“Tremble and despair, all ye defilers of the Earth! Your pollution is a sickness to the plant, and I am its antibody! Your doom approaches, for the Corrupted Claw has cometh to destroy!”

“FREEZE! DON’T MOVE!”

The Corrupted Claw blinked. In front of him were dozens of police cars and National Guard trucks and several times as many officers and soldiers. Who had guns pointed at him. Lots and lots of guns.

“Um, what?”

“DROP THE WEAPON AND PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!”

“Ok so we pin it on the super and then we…get…away?”

“Yep.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“Won’t they like, track us with spy satellites or microchips or something?”

“Probably.”

“And?!”

“And we’ll be back by then.”

Bob let the edge of his mouth rise.

“And then they’ll have bigger problems.”

A group of men and women in armored masks stood in an empty warehouse. In front of them was a large cylindrical device laying on the floor, a capacity meter on the side filled to the top with a colored bar that transitioned from red to orange to yellow to green. They glanced at each other and nodded.

Handshakes, high fives, and fist bumps all around.

Well except for Senior Brother Wu who just scoffed and turned his head in the corner.

“Thieves strike across the globe! GNN has confirmed that governments around the world have been robbed of their strategic reserves! Oil, coal, even natural gas is not safe! Who could have done this? How did they accomplish it? What is their ultimate goal? How will the governments and heroes of the world respond? What will this mean for you? Tune in tonight as GNN consults the experts on this grave new threat.”

A man and a woman sat at the outdoor table of a cafe, happily chatting away as pedestrians and car went back and forth. The man stopped and smiled at her. She smiled back, and then glanced down.

A slight ripple in her coffee.

Then another.

And another.

And each was getting stronger.

She looked up. Her eyes widened. Her jaw dropped. A shadow fell over her face as something blocked the sun.

She screamed.

A piercing roar shattered the sky.