You are not sure how it happened, you just had super powers one day. Thing is you are not the kind of person the government HOPES get powers, because you were an inmate at the United States Disciplinary Barracks, better known as 'Leavenworth'. You had been convicted at court martial of and murdering fellow member of USMC, Corporal Katharine Sunset, who disappeared while on patrol with your unit: and were scheduled to be executed: there was just one problem: you were innocent. You don't know quite what happened the night 'Kathy' went missing, there was an explosion at the edge of your unit's encampment in Afghanistan and you rolled out of bed to grab your rifle and go take a few shots at the towelheads when suddenly something struck you up side the back of your head and knocked you .

The next thing you remember is waking up two days later, your head hurting like the worst hangover of your entire life and COVERED in dried blood, some of which later proved to be Kathy's. You skulked your way back to base, dodging Taliban and Al-Quida fighters, even taking out a few with rocks and your bare hands. When you got back you were SO glad to be among friendlies, then were shocked to discover that the rest of your unit was there already, and telling this crazy story about how YOU attacked the camp and tied them up, then Kathy and started ranting about how you were the Son of Satan and had been sent to begin the apocalypse! You knew then that you had been betrayed, used as a scape-goat to throw suspicion off of them for the abominable blasphemy against everything the USMC stood for, but it was to late, the waters were poisoned and they convicted you of and and carted you off to the USDB to await execution.

You spent a month in solitary, raging against the injustice of it all, and fuming about how your 'Brother' Marines could DO this to you and Corporal Sunset, before you finished cutting a shank out of your door frame, sharpening it against the floor, and used it to slice every last USMC tattoo off your body. That was when it happened: as the last patch of inked skin came free, you felt this SURGE of power, and realized you were floating six inches off the floor and the sections of skin you had cut off were regrowing, not with scars but with blank, untainted, skin.

You decided to test your luck and punched the door of your cell as you had done several times, and this time instead of hurting your knuckles the door crumpled and flew off it's hinges! You walked right out of the S.H.U. shedding gunfire like water and wrenching several firearms out of the hands of the guards, breaking knuckles in the process, and then when you got outside flew away into the night, being clipped by a S.A.M. rocket and completely unscathed, though your clothes weren't so lucky. They scrambled two F-16s to try to intercept you and you just outran them, ducking to barely above the treetops to get under the radar sweeps.

Eventually you reached the outskirts of Millennium City and landed, stealing some clothing off a clothes line strung out a window, and wandering into a bad neighborhood. A couple of Hispanic gang banger's tried to start a fight with you, and you gave them both concussions with a flick of your finger. That was when their shot caller came up and offered you a job, work as a hired hand fighting other gangs in turf wars and jigging with the police Supe's for as much as you could shoot, snort, or smoke. You told him that if he gave you that much in CASH he had a deal, to which he responded 'Done Man.', and you shook on it, gingerly.

That was a week ago, since then you have walked on a very dark side indeed, but always with one mission in mind, rise through the ranks, get connections abroad, and track down the traitorous bastards who put you up for and , then:

MAKE THEM PAY!