[COLOR=lightgray][u][b]Caden[/b][/u]

  The world has always been broken.

  Caden watched through the limousine's window as they passed by the commoners' homes, disinterested eyes not really registering anything. The sky was a perpetual dark grey, casting a shadowed gloom over the ruined city. Well, not quite ruined. This district had electricity, food, water - the bare necessities needed to survive. All with a price tag attached, of course. He couldn't say the same for the rest of Palm City. The ones at the top hardly cared for the ones under their rule.

  It was ridiculous. Clearly, the Overlord, the asinine villain who had taken over this particular city, had no clue what he was doing. What was the point of ruling over a city if one did not make use of it properly? He robbed the citizens of all their money, flaunted his strength and manpower, and was completely ignorant of the potential the city offered. He lacked the finesse of a true villain, one who was truly in control. "Overlord", his foot. He wouldn't know opportunity even if it smacked him in the face.

  Caden, however, could. So it was inevitable that he would take this chance the Overlord offered him by being the fool he was and steadily build his own growing organisation on the ashes of the city the Overlord had left to burn. No, he wasn't stupid enough to grapple for power with a big shot like the Overlord, but he could form alliances here and there and claim his spot at the top right under the buffoon's nose. It wasn't going to be easy but then again, nothing worth gaining ever was. Recently, his organisation, the Penumbra, had successfully claimed the Branch district as of late. In the face of the world, it was hardly anything, but it was a start.

  Yes, the world was broken, but he'd be damned if he let it disintegrate before it was under his rule.
  
  They were still ironing out the bugs, though. Where there was authority, there would surely be entropy to counter against it. Like right now. He shifted, straightening up. They had arrived.

  "[b]What's the current situation?[/b]" he asked as Geryll, his trusty right hand man, opened the passenger door. He got out, his gaze settling on the bank as Geryll answered.

  "[/COLOR][b]Lone girl. Some body manipulation power. Possibly also has control over the weather.[/b][COLOR=silver]" 

  The bank doors were closed. The building looked untouched. The robber hadn't just blindly busted her way in, then.

  "[b]If it's body manipulation, then that just makes things harder[/b]," muttered Caden. He ran a gloved hand over his face. "[b]Stay outside the entrance and keep the more curious people from nosing around. If things get bad, intervene.[/b]" A few commoners were already staring, whispering about "why the Shadow Master was here". Caden certainly hadn't come up with that name; people had caught a glimpse of him in battle, rumours had spread, and he'd been feared as the ominous Shadow Master. It served him well in the sense that such a cliche title had managed to induce intimidation into the people he ruled and he'd made no move to correct the misnomer.

  "[/COLOR][b]Got it, boss.[/b][COLOR=silver]"

  Without anymore hesitation, he strode forward. The reports may have stated there to be one girl in there, but it was one girl casually stealing from [i]his[/i] bank, with [i]his[/i] guards and [i]his[/i] hired guns in there. He was not one to scrape from the bottom of the barrel when it came to manpower. Quality over quantity, as they say. This was different, though. This was someone who possibly had elemental powers and was, as usual, abusing them. He huffed as he swung the bank doors open. That was the problem with bull-headed overpowered people. They tended to use their powers and not their brains.

  They'd gotten there just in time. The girl had already gathered most, if not all of the money in the bank. His dark eyes narrowed.

  "[b]That's a lot of money you've got there[/b]," he called out, not stopping his pace. The doors swung back and forth behind him a few times before finally shutting. When he was within conversational distance, he stopped.

  Truth be told, it was a little unnerving to see his men moving around with such rigid movements, obviously forced by an outside source. Strong, talented men reduced to puppets at the hands of this girl. Most of his men cried out at his presence, some in relief, most in self-righteous anger. He lifted up a hand to silence them; he needed to assess the current situation and their unneeded input was distracting. His gaze returned to the girl.

  "[b]How are you going to carry it all back, may I ask?[/b]"[/COLOR]