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Scott Hunter made his way down W. 29th Street beside his friend Eric Dean. Things were good, the grand opening of their club the night before went off without a hitch, and was more successful than either had anticipated. Yet, at the same time, the previous night had been a bit of a mixed bag. Although he was happy with the success of The Hub’s grand opening, the woman of his dreams walked out of his life to begin anew on the West Coast. She wanted to get out of Lost Haven; she saw that the city was becoming too dangerous, and she wanted him to join her. Of course, he declined her invitation even though it broke both of their hearts. He had told her that he had responsibilities here, and deep down he wished that he had told her exactly what those responsibilities were. He wondered to himself, that perhaps, if he had told her who he was…who he really was, that perhaps that would have changed things. 

“It’s okay Bro, you can smile.” Eric’s voice cut through the dense fog that was Scott’s mind.

“Huh?” Scott half consciously responded. 

“We did it. We actually pulled it off.” Eric said with his big, lopsided grin.
“Yeah, I know. It’s just…” Scott began.

“It’s just that you wanted to share it with her.” Eric said knowingly.

Eric and Scott have been best friends since they were kids, and nobody knows Scott better. Eric was the first to know about Scott’s abilities, and he has helped cover for him for almost as long as he can remember.  When something is bothering Scott, Eric would know. 

“Yeah.” Scott said.

“Look man, I know it sucks. Take some time, but you’re going to have to put it behind you. Besides, you never know. Things could always work out.” Eric said as he put a hand on Scott’s shoulder. 

Scott was about to reply when something else caught his attention. Eric felt Scott tense up, and noticed that his friend’s eyes were glued to the TV display in the window of Mac’s Electronics Store. 

[b][i] BREAKING NEWS!

These words flashed before every television screen currently on in Lost Haven. An image of Jeffery G. Haroldson appeared before them. He sat, hands folded, before the camera. He had perfectly cut salt-and-pepper hair and a brand new blue suit to his name.”This just in, a pair of metahumans are destroying Sherman Square! Channel 65’s own Mary Belfast is on the scene. Go ahead, Mary.”

“Thank you, Jeff.” A young, red haired woman stood in front of the scene of the battle, holding a microphone. She appeared apprehensive.” We don’t know the circumstances of this encounter, but what we do know is that the two combatants appeared ten minutes ago. The fight seems contained to Sherman Square for now, but one question remains in our minds: Where are our city’s so called ‘heroes’?” The reporter seemed to step away from the camera, which panned to follow the unfolding battle. It was obvious the Greek-esque man had the upperhand, but the American patriot seemed to be holding his own for as long as he could.[/i][/b]

Scott turned to Eric and without having to say anything, Eric simply nodded, and in the flash of an eye, Scott was gone, having sped away from the storefront to a small alley across the street, where he shed his civilian clothes and donned the familiar uniform of Icon. Then, Icon took to the skies and in a flash, soared towards Sherman Square. 

As he arrived at Sherman Square, the scene that unfolded before him infuriated him. The destruction that had been wrought in the busy tourist trap was, though not the worst he had seen, still bad enough. However, there were bodies strewn about the Square, and Icon feared that many were civilians caught in the crossfire. Then he saw the culprits, a blue “skinned” mechanical man and someone who looked to be dressed in the attire of Spartan warriors of old. 

He also saw a news crew that had gotten too close to the skirmish for their own good, as well as a minivan that had been hurled in their direction. 

Icon swooped down and like a star wide receiver stretching out to make a play, caught the flying vehicle moments before it landed on the pretty redheaded reporter and her camera crew. He set the van down on the concrete and rocketed toward the man who had launched it, the Spartan. As he raced toward the warrior, energy crackled around his clenched fist as a bluish energy engulfed it. Then, he hit the warrior with the force of a freight train, unloading the kinetic energy behind a wild haymaker that sent the warrior careening into the side of a fire truck that had arrived on scene.

[b]”That’s enough, both of you!”[/b] Icon exclaimed angrily as the warrior got back to his feet.