Tanik Fallen

Dropping down from the sky, Tanik took his time and smoothened his soft black hair before pulling the landing gear up to its mechanical limit. The escape pod began to tremble and groan, and the floorboard was starting to bend against gravity. The interior turned into a hot mess. Tanik held onto the chair with his sweating hands, preparing for the impact.

The drop continued. Wind whirring and air burning, oxygen had ran out of the cabin through dozen invisible cracks, and left Tanik grabbing his throat, looking up for closure. He was sure that would be the end of him. The villain of the city, the terror of the world. The tyrant had fallen to the vigilant, and once again justice had beaten the evil company.

Tanik laughed inside, it was the same cruel laugh he gave out when he was still supreme and mighty.

The irony was on himself. He could have ended the floods of threats, instead he waited and toyed with the heroes for far too long. Their bits and wits worn him out, and a tired fighter could never swing a good slash. Shaking his head, his body was crushed by the air pressure.