Wolfy looked away, sighing softly. Though death was a regular part of his life, he tended to disassociate with that particular fact. The terror in Miana’s eyes would keep him up at night in a way other victims hadn’t. Of course, he hadn’t held those other victim’s hands while the life fled from their bodies. Wolfy wanted to find this sociopath and beat the living shit out of them, which meant helping The Agency. Why not try and negotiate for something he wanted as well?

  “It looks like you’re in need of assistance, of which I can offer. I Suggest considering my demands, seeing as I absorbed your prophet’s powers.” Wolfy mirrored Cecilia’s position, crossing his arms.

  “Demands? Well, let’s hear them.” A young man to the left of Mateo spoke.

  He was a famous hero, a few inches taller than Wolfy himself. The hero had dark skin and cinder red hair buzzed to the scalp, with hard orange eyes.

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  “Oh? And who are you?” Asked Wolfy, smiling.

  “Clay Brimstone.” Clay replied.

  “That is so wonderfully fake! Let me guess, fire manipulation? I can already tell you and I are going to be friends.”

  “Wolfgang. Demands.” Cecilia prompted.

  Rolling his eyes, Wolfy Began. “Firstly, I don’t answer to you, or any of your superiors. I have free reign to do as I please, no supervision or babysitting by your Heroes. And my family is not to be informed that I work with The Agency.”

  He wasn’t too worried about the lashback from his family, it was just a headache to deal with their attempts to contact him.

  Cecilia considered this. “Anything else?”

  Wolfy considered, biting his lip. There was one thing he desired terribly, and it was completely unreasonable. After some personal debate, he came to a decision. Go big or go home, he supposed. Wolfy nodded to Mateo.

  “He marries me.”