Fury sat to one side in the busy Angar-Ryllan outpost, nestled in the surviving bottom floor of a damaged high-rise. All around him shouts rang out among the alien invaders, and the faint sounds of open warfare aggravated the Fireen’s ears. He had no interest in murdering weakling humans,that was never what he was there for and their similar appearances unsettled him, he was sent with the intention of combatting humanities greatest individual warriors. The Angar-Ryllan had carefully observed the potential resistance they would be facing, and deemed their foot soldiers insufficient. As much of the planet had to be captured intact, and with an irony perhaps the Americans would appreciate they had deemed the destruction of a few key cities full of people necessary for a clean and relatively cheap victory. Once the terror missions were successful and the armies could be deployed the fall of Earth was inevitable.

The Fireen’s brow furrowed as an Angar-Ryllan, large and imposing, shouted in his general direction from a cautious distance away. Finally having enough of the man’s commanding nature the very human-looking alien burst from his chair and smashed him through the wall of the building, leaving a shocked silence around him. His body was donned in the ancient armour of his people, the Fireen, though it resembled the Angar-Ryllan in the traditional style it was obviously far superior for his particular energy-manipulating abilities. Hence why his entire form glowed an iridescent and terrifying blue, his signature appearance, as he walked out the door. Despite his obvious rejection of the Angar-Ryllan’s commanding authority, he had still listened to the orders, and deemed them worthy of his time.

Freedom? He would put the hero to the test.