Samson stood within his black suit over the light center of Las Vegas, Utah. It was a clear night with a crescent moon shining down on the neon center of the US. People walked from one gambling casino to another, wasting thier time and money on completely useless pasttimes. There were much better things that money could go towards. Samson could think of a certain rainy day fund that could use another few million dollars. He also knew of a few decent charities that could use some bolstering money.

"Might as well get this started," said Samson, and he spied the casino that he was going to rob. He had hacked it easily and got the schematics of the building as well as the design of the safe. Just to add some spice to the night, he had tripped the silent alarm at three nearby casinos, but he had cut the silent alarm for the Higher Grande, which he was preparing to rob. There was no real plan besides go in, get the money, and come out, and he could deal with whatever security there was with his suit.

Leaping down to the street below, Samson cracked the sidewalk on his landing making several bystanders leap in fright. He stood up and began to run at a decent thirty miles per hour towards the Higher Grande. Since it was a new building, it would be at its absolute best to accommodate the many guests who want to experience the new casino. That meant lots of money, lots of people, and very few superheroes.

Samson ran through the streets until he arrived at the front doors of the Higher Grande. The doors were glass, so he just ran right through and busted everything down. The security guards around the place reacted, seeing the black mechanical suit approaching with very little resistance. Samson saw the cashier, so he started that way with guys coming after him. The black suit was a bit slower than his normal body, but it was much more fun to throw humans around. It gave Samson a feeling of being indestructible.

Once he reached the cashiers, he pulled the door off and invaded. The cashier who had been exchanging chips put their hands up in surrender, but Samson ignored them to go after his real prize. Going around the back of the cashiers, Samson found the elevator he was looking for. After forcing the doors open, Samson jumped down the elevator shaft to the bottom floor. Once he was there, he had to climb the few feet to the bottom floor, but then he had access to the bottom floors.

The safe would be on the west side while Samson had arrived at the north elevator because that was the only one that went down to the bottom floors. After a brief walk and taking down two other guards, Samson reached an enormous safe that had eight sequential locks to it. Samson knew the combinations, he had stolen them some time ago in preparation for this heist. He could have simply input the numbers, taken the money, and then left without too much trouble.

But that's no fun.

Raising both of his hands with palms facing towards the steal doors, Samson released a continuous stream of laser heat that seared the composite steel of the doors like a blowtorch through butter. Within minutes, all eight doors were blown through and the heat downstairs was at an unbearable level. Entering the massive safe, Samson saw large stacks of freshly minted money that were all nicely packed and stacked.

Samson had prepared for this, so he reached into his suit and pulled out a weave bag that would be able to resist the heat from his lasers. Putting as much money as he could into the bags, Samson then grabbed armfuls of the cash and began to walk out. When he got to the elevator shaft, a handful of guards were polite enough to have prepared the elevator for him. Stepping inside, Samson rode the elevator up to the roof where wind blew briskly over his suit.

Once Samson was on top of the Higher Grand, he looked down to see squads of police and SWAT parked outside of the entrance. A helicopter flew overtop the building, shining a spotlight on the roof to see the black mech suit that Samson wore. No doubt there was radio chatter about it, so Samson got busy unpacking the money that he had carried up to the top of the building. Once he had all of the plastic ripped off, Samson began throwing the money carelessly to the wind. SWAT officers came through the elevator and started barking orders at the black mech suit to stand down.

Samson threw the last of the money to the wind, then he stood up and looked back at the yelling SWAT officers. Samson leaped towards them, and then was engulfed in a hail of gunfire. The anti-grav shield blocked all of it, so Samson concentrated on knocking the guys out with little difficulty. Once they were unconscious, Samson moved their bodies so that each person was 69ing someone else. Samson felt that it was hilarious, and with the helicopter still hovering overhead it would certainly be breaking news.

Lifting the remaining bags of money, Samson began to take off with some disappointment that a superhero hadn't show up. He wasn't about to challenge the heroes outright, but it still would have been nice to see how his suit holds up to a real hero's power. With a sonic boom immediately after takeoff, Samson began to fly away with the ill gotten loot and barely any trouble. He was almost out of Las Vegas completely when he noticed something tailing him. Looking back with the thrusters still on, Samson saw a Hero Squad jet just behind him.

Spinning around, Samson motioned for the jet to follow, then headed in a direction that seemed clear enough. He flew for a little while, then landed on a dry patch of land with the jet coming to a slow stop a little ways away. The jet landed as Samson prepared for a fight, watching closely who got out of the jet. Two males and one female, each of them wearing the dorky skin-tight outfits that all Hero Squad members wear.

"Before we start," said the man who stepped up first, "would you like to say your prayers?"

"What is your name?" Samson said, his voice coming out electronically.

"I'm called Preacher," said the man, cracking his knuckles for effect. "What about you, robot, do you have a name?"

"Not presently, no," said Samson, having trouble trying to think of a good villainous name.

"Then we'll just call you scraps," said Preacher jovially, and displayed his palm towards Samson. Samson mimicked the move, but Preacher began quoting verse that made a small glowing cross appear in his hand. The longer he quoted, the more the cross grew until Samson decided to just blast the dirt in front of him. Rocks and dirt were kicked up towards Preacher, but his chanting didn't falter even for a second. Getting bored of this, Samson sat down with his legs crossed and started pushing dirt around with his finger.

When Preacher finally released, it was an explosive eruption of christian power that ripped up the ground around Samson with a mighty blow. However, once the dust cleared and the Heroes could see through the night, they saw the black mech just sitting there toiling with the dirt. He didn't seem to be in any rush, and it was apparent he wasn't about to leave.

"Oh, are you done?" asked the black suit insultingly. "I guess it's my turn then." Displaying a single palm, Samson shot a blast of energy right at the jet behind the Hero Squad.

The explosion was large enough to send metallic projectiles soaring through the air so they would have to be deflected by the anti-grav shield. The black mech stood there as the dust cleared on the other side, and a gust of wind blew it all away. The woman was waving her hands and the wind was following her movements. She stirred it up into a tornado, then she directed the tornado at Samson. He just stood there as the tornado whipped up wind around him, any small projectiles that would have hit him would bound off the anti-grav field.

Samson just walked out, then he looked at the Hero Squad as though this was all completely inadequate. The last guy took a step forward, and in a single moment he approached Samson with a fist ready to pound into his face mask. Despite this man's incredible speed, Samson was able to react and dodge the punch, if only by a few centimeters. With such a close proximity, Samson used the thruster in the back of his head to headbutt the guy in the face. The speedy guy was sent flying back to his squadmates, tumbling head over heels until he was able to balance himself.

"What the hell is that thing," Preacher asked desperately.

"It could be some android we've never seen before," said the woman. "If possible, we need to capture and analyze it."

"Not happening," said Samson, "you guys are way too weak. I'm bored, so I'm just going to go now." Samson planted his hands on the ground, then used thrusters both in the palms of his hand and in his shoulders to create incredible force. The force was transmitted into the ground, creating an eruption that blew the ground upwards for a quarter mile in all directions. The Hero Squad was thrown as Samson made his escape by blasting off. He broke the sound barrier and kept going, getting back to home base before the close of the day.

With a feeling of somewhat disappointed satisfaction, Samson exited his suit and tossed the money into the rainy day pile that took up one of the spare rooms. Samson got into his Range Rover and drove home, seeing Alexander arriving for work early the next morning. He said good morning and made his excuses to eat and get to sleep. It seemed as though being in the suit for a long time burned a lot of calories, which made sense in theory. So, after consuming his weight in chicken and fries, Samson went to his bedroom and collapsed.