[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/7aOrET3.png[/img]
[color=254f28][u][b]Location[/b][/u][/color]
💀 Ristorante de Luce.
💀 [i]Mission Start.[/i]

[color=254f28][u][b]Time[/b][/u][/color]
💀 Evening.

[color=254f28][u][b]Interactions[/b][/u][/color]
💀 [@taylorquest]
💀 [i]None.[/i]
[/center][hr]

As had been established, Azhar sought to enjoy his day off. A pursuit of relaxation, and in this case, social interaction. He had been doing well in that regard, a development in which the phantasmal boy could pat himself on the shoulder. Indeed, the moment spent with Doctor Vivien Valis was a cherished exchange. Alas, all good things must come to an end, as they say. Where a desire to indulge in the blissful nectar that was a soda mix circled Azhar’s mind, the mutant was forced to yield. Despite what some may have thought, and beyond the boy’s own insecurities, a Hero presented himself, a young man with responsibilities. What did a day off truly mean? It meant that Azhar, or Zee, stood on standby, simply awaiting a call before being sent into the boiling pot, once again.

He could not recall the last official mission executed with other Heroes, but rather found himself on solo assignments constantly. One would, however, be mistaken in assuming Azhar’s longing for teamwork. The moments spent with his fellow Heroes had been disastrous. They didn’t formulate plans, they most certainly didn’t work together in a noteworthy capacity, and they bickered all the time. If anything, the deathly mutant was surprised that they hadn’t all found themselves at the mercy of a villain, due to lacking tactics. 

Azhar was not an impressive tactician. He was not a leader, and he was not used to working with others. However, at the very least, he could admit towards attempting the feat. The others were, as Americans tended to say, ‘Loose Cannons’. Azhar adored maintaining a more relaxed disposition amidst the dangers of a life-threatening mission. However, betting his continued existence on fellow Heroes more preoccupied with property damage than a professional approach was not Azhar’s idea of a good time. 

[b][i]Mission - Neutralize and Capture.
Villain - Astral, further information included.
Rank - B+.
Location - Warehouse 9, location mapped.
Lethality - Non-Lethal approach.
Power Restriction - None, but discretion required.[/i][/b]

Reaching for his cellphone in response to a beeping sound that trickled into Azhar’s ears, the boy’s eyes fell to the screen, which accompanied a heavy sigh. Indeed a day off meant nothing more than remaining ready and waiting, until eventual disaster struck. Such was the life of a Hero, no matter how obscure, or withdrawn. Within the message, a document had been attached revealing in-depth information on the target dubbed ‘Astral’ and his abilities. It was nothing Azhar could adequately afford attention, while at a restaurant when engaged in company, however. [color=254f28]"I am so sorry, Doctor Valis,"[/color] Zee commented, clawed fingers moving towards his forehead where they gently rubbed the boy’s pale-white skin. [color=254f28]"I’ve been called for,"[/color] came a sigh. Azhar couldn’t simply deny the request. It didn’t quite work, like that. If he was sent a mission, he was expected to deliver. The only acceptable excuse was being stuck in a hospital bed with blood leaking from open wounds. 

Rising to his feet, Azhar showed Doctor Vivien Valis the text he had received. [color=254f28]"Some guy named Astral,"[/color] he explained, before slipping the phone into his pocket. If he was allowed to use the entirety of his powers, it meant that this villain was quite powerful, even if his rank was a high B. Underestimating this opponent due to a letter strung along the exact same downfall that Azhar criticized his fellow co-workers for. It was irresponsible. [color=254f28]"We’ll have to rain-check this dinner,"[/color] the mutant managed a soft smile, [color=254f28]"it was really nice meeting you!"[/color] Azhar finished, before making haste in exiting the restaurant which would otherwise have offered him a lovely evening. 

A Hero first, and foremost. It was something the mutant often stumbled across. The mission came first, always. It was why he questioned the decision of settling into a relationship when loyalty to your spouse came second. Perhaps a rather fanatical approach, but one Azhar truly believed in. He was willing to abandon his own desires accompanying a normal, everyday life, for the task at hand. There would always be an assignment present, and there would most certainly always be a villain seeking to harm others. A clouded or preoccupied mind had no place on the battlefield, something any soldier would have been able to affirm.

Upon reaching his home, Azhar slipped inside, closed the door, and proceeded to analyze the mission parameters on a more comfortable screen. His laptop. As per usual, a myriad of information was presented. Astral’s real name, his past, his skills, and powers. Naturally, his illegal operation was equally so afforded the Hero tasked with halting its progress. [color=254f28]"A mind-controlling drug,"[/color] the phantasmal mutant frowned [color=254f28]"why is everyone obsessed with creating an army?"[/color] It wasn’t the first time Zee had come across something like this. Create a drug, disguise it as any common street substance, and gain complete control over whoever takes it. [color=254f28]"I’ll be going up against a lot of mind-jacked civilians,"[/color] the boy rubbed his chin. Hugo Powers’ demand for discretion made all the more sense, now. 

Rising from his computer chair, Azhar approached his closet where everyday clothes were soon replaced by a suit, the thing that symbolized Requiem. An unknown Hero mainly considered ‘cool’ amongst teenaged outsiders, Requiem possessed powers far darker than the public had seen. Without that bracelet circling Azhar’s forearm, there was no way for him to maintain the role of Hero. Clenching those sharp teeth at the thought, Zee reached for his mask, a black skull, and covered his spectral face. Dark or light, it mattered little in the grand scheme of things. He had a mission, and Warehouse 9 was located in Brookside, the easiest location to manufacture and sell drugs. A location where eager buyers, and in this case, slaves, waited around every street corner. Placing his hand on the doorknob, Azhar turned towards his cat, the deathly mutant granting the creature a soft smile behind his obfuscating visage, before finally stepping outside.