God, it was a beautiful day. Clear blue sky, spring freshness in the breeze — Killraven did a loop in the air, just enjoying the feel of it on his cheeks. He loved flying, and a day like this… well, it filled his soul with pure, unadulterated joy.
It was too bad he was going to have to ruin it.
Wings spread wide, he glided on the breeze for a moment more. The city spread beneath him, a cluster of crazy grey jewels, afternoon sunlight glinting off the lake. The sun was warm on his back, on the backs of his wings, his black feathers soaking it all up. Killraven closed his eyes, and sighed.
Then he drew his wings in tight, a flick of his feathered feet tilting him nose-first toward the ground. He felt the wind pull at him, and roar in his ears, and he squinted his eyes against it, and against the image of the ground racing to bring him doom. Even through the squint, though, he could see his target. That gleam of gold against a field of parking lot blacktop was hard to miss.
With tiny movements of his arms and legs, Killraven homed in. His prey seemed oblivious to the fluttering black death plummeting down on him. At the last possible moment, Killraven swerved hard, his foot claws scraping across the golden chest plate, mere millimetres below the exposed flesh of his target’s neck.
A hard loop in the air killed the rest of his momentum, and Killraven fluttered to the pavement. His clawed feet changed to bare human flesh at the same time. The asphalt was hot on his soles.
“Could’ve killed you, Golden Boy.”
The mirrored gold of Golden Boy’s visor flipped up, revealing dark eyes, heavy eyes in a dark face. Killraven noticed that Golden Boy’s nose had been broken more than once.
“What do you want, Killraven?”
With a strange, wet rustle, Killraven changed, his wings transforming to arms, black feathers receding into pale skin. Standing in the hot parking lot in a pair of black spandex briefs, he held his arms out in front of himself. His wrists were pressed together.
“I’m here to surrender. Take me in.”