"This is what you were made for, were you not?" The man besides me asked.

I remained silent, unsure how to answer. Part of me wanted to say no, make it stop, but the other half that went through years of pain screamed yes.

We looked over the city, nearly in ruins, aliens descending and giving hell to the people. Fires spread and ate away at the city, and the screams of residents could be heard from even way up on the top of the Avenger's Tower. Was this really what I was made for? Destruction? ...No. Death? ...Yes.

But it didn't feel right.

I looked down once again at the city below us. Hundreds of innocent people dying...this wasn't right.

"I can't! That's not right, I'm not a murderer!"

"Not now, but trust me, I'll be able to corrupt and bend you to our will. You will do this..."

Memories of the intense pain surged in my mind, reminding me of what I went through. Why I'm who I am. Why I'm where I am now.

And I couldn't take it anymore.

With a single step forward, I fell.