It's a lonely life being a hero.

However many people you save there are still more who die. However many people who appreciate what you do there are still more who hate you for what you are, for the things you have they will never get. After a while you start to forget why you still do the job, start to think 'Why would I help those who would kick me to the curb without a second thought?' Friendships, relationships all fade away as no-one can know the real you. Then you get to a point when you're walking to work and you hear the screams and distant sirens and you just keep walking. Someone else will deal with it. Why does it always have to be you?

It's almost a relief to not feel the pressure to be perfect. Sometimes you even use your powers for your own gain, free meals, free shopping, free admittance. Why should everyone else get the gift of your powers except you? It spirals after that. That infatuating feeling of power over those who cannot do anything to stop you. You can get drunk on it.

Until it ends and reality catches up. All that time you thought you were a hero but as you watch your life slip away and your blood drip off your fingertips, you realise you had become the villain.