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The fourth man laughed maniacally. “You’ve fallen right into our trap.”
Guardian glared at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”
The man in front of them laughed. “We don’t care about the diamond. You’re worth far more than that stupid rock will ever be. Trust me when I say that our boss can’t wait to get his hands on the both of you.”
The man behind them leaned his head next to Guardian’s, the gun at the base of his spine. “Let me at him,” he whispered. “Come on, what do you say? I wanna peel the skin from his bones and see what kind of sounds he makes.”
“Wow,” Guardian said. “That was a little dark, even for me. Maybe dial it back a bit? You sound psychotic.”
“That’s right,” the man said. “Iampsychotic. In fact, that’s what everyone calls me. Psycho. Wait. TheCannibalPsycho.”
“Enough,” the man in front of them said. “It’s time to end this.” He raised his gun again, this time pointing it at Pyro Storm’s head.
“Try it,” Guardian snarled. “It’ll be the last thing you ever do.”
The man glanced at him before shrugging. “Okay.”
He pulled the trigger.
Time slowed down around Guardian. Blood rushed in his ears as the colors of the world melted like so much wax. The air between the heroes and the goons rippled as if on the surface of a lake. Guardian jerked his head, and Cannibal Psycho flew back against a wall, crumpling to the floor. Guardian paid him no mind, all his focus on the death warrant signed for Pyro Storm.
The spark in his head pulsed brightly as he closed his mind around it once more, familiar, safe,his.The bullet slowed, spun around, pointing toward the man who’d fired the gun, the man who had tried to take everything from Guardian.
“Suck onthis,” Guardian snarled, and the bullet hurtled back toward the man, striking him right between the eyes.
