Bain stood up, rising to his full height of eight feet nine inches. Six red eyes glinted from underneath a helmet-like shell, muscles bunched powerfully on four arms and thick, bestial legs, and a massive carapace covered his back and forearms. His four-fold claws and cruel talons shrieked as they scratched across the floor, despite the obvious care he took not to damage the tiles.

With a quick glance, you'd call him a monster.

Looking closer, you'd be correct.

He grabbed a brown manila file of paper and walked up to the receptionist's desk, the ground shaking slightly under his nine hundred pounds of weight. Ignoring the hostile stares from everyone else in the room, he tried to smile and ended up grimacing instead.

"I'd like to apply for hero."

Everyone stared.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Bain sat on the grand staircase outside the Supertower, holding his file. He was staring at the ground, which while interesting, wasn't that interesting. Nobody came within fifty feet of him, opting to walk on the very rim of the staircase. Bain wasn't an especially rare sight at the location, but nobody really wanted to get closer to something that looked as dangerous as he did.

Why was it so hard to become a hero? He'd tried to go vigilante at one point, using the subway to get around (like a lot of the villains did, actually) but everyone he'd saved had pressed trauma charges. The only reason he hadn't had to work those out was that he neither had a job nor a home address to which the court could send their mail. 'Tunnels' wasn't exactly specific.

A hero landed in front of him, careful not to crush the well-laid concrete. The floor had been replaced a frankly stunning number of times in the past until a hefty fine was attached to breaking it. The fine was enforced by every super who lived in the Tower and was thus obeyed to the letter.

"Monster! You stand-"

He paused, realizing that no one was watching. The people walking around him and up the stairs, for the most part, had seen him sitting there plenty of times and knew that he wasn't violent unless provoked.

"MONSTER! How can you sit there, knowing what you did?"

Bain looked up. If he'd had the capacity to cry without melting the sidewalk, he would. Could this day get any worse? It wasn't entirely uncommon for rookie superheroes to try and pick fights, and this kid was hardly an exception. Loud and wearing spandex, the super had probably just finished his first patrol and was looking for a fight.

People were starting to take notice, but just barely. Like Bain, they were familiar enough with Centropolis standards that they could spot a rookie a mile away.

"Rest easy, fair people of this city! I shall rescue you!"

That got a few annoyed stares. The old-timey hero gimmick wasn't doing the hero any favors, and his Rep would probably bomb as a result.

He charged forward, his cape streaming behind him as he flew at the monster sitting on the steps.

Bain watched, unimpressed. High-speed flight? This was definitely a newbie to the business - if you were going to get into a fight, it was important to let your opponent make the first move. Never show off your powers unless forced to - it was literally the oldest rule in the book, right behind 'never take off your mask in public'. That rule had been violated who knew how many times, what with all the retired supers trying to capitalize off their previous fame.

The hero landed in front of him, wound up, and punched him squarely in the chest, yelling, "AEROMAN SUPER-PUNCH!" The hit smashed into his torso and stopped dead, releasing a shockwave that rattled the ground. Now super-strength was a bit more impressive, and showy too. Nothing attracted a crowd like lifting a semi truck over your head.

Regardless, Bain had taken much heavier hits from Nahma, and with considerably more accuracy and technique behind them. Even with the strength backing it up, the punch caused absolutely zero damage. Bain sighed in annoyance. "Aeroman isn't a very good name. Try picking something a little more original, remember to combine your strength and flight to create your title. Use your powers with even a moderate amount of skill and you can probably make it pretty far."

Aeroman's confidence refused to let him be afraid of Bain's borderline invulnerability, and the advice only incensed him. "I am Aeroman, and I am here to save these helpless civilians!"

Now that got the bystanders' attention. Nobody liked being called helpless, least of all people who did in all likelihood have powers. One of them yelled at the rookie, "If you're so great, why haven't you beaten Bain yet?"

He somehow puffed up even more. "Now I know thy name, foul creature! Taste my-" He inhaled deeply, preparing an attack. "-AEROMAN REPEATERS!" He started battering at Bain's chest, still not doing much. If anything, his accuracy had reduced even further as he focused on speed.

Bain looked around and asked casually, "Does anyone mind if I knock him out?"

An older man walking into the Tower with a suitcase (likely a villain) cackled happily. "Go right ahead, ya ball o' terror. Send 'im right back to kindergarten!"

Disregarding Aeroman's attacks entirely, Bain headbutted him square in the forehead. He blinked for a moment, his eyes crossing stupidly, before slowly falling over backward. He tumbled down the stairs, landing in a heap at the bottom. It improved Bain's mood slightly, but only slightly.

Reentering the Supertower, he walked over to a case of papers, looking through them before finding the one he wanted. Filling it out quickly as though he'd done it a hundred times (he had), he stood in line, patient to wait. He didn't need to wait for long - his mere presence was enough to speed the process significantly as anxious supers filed their paperwork.

When he finally made it to the secretary operating the stand, he placed the paper on the clean wooden counter, careful not to scratch it with his razor claws. "I'd like to report a case of a biased superhero attack. The footage from the Tower cameras will support the story in the document, as I'm sure you know. Thank you."

The secretary had given up hoping that he would go bother someone else long ago and took the file without complaint. Turning to a filing cabinet behind her, she opened up the bottom drawer, which was already overflowing. It consisted entirely of all the biased attack cases that Bain had filed over the past eighteen years.

Bain turned and exited the Tower, wondering what he would have for dinner. Probably rat again. He decided to go get some seasoning for it.