Sync pulled up the hood to his cloak, covering the mark on the back of his neck. An Eagle tattoo, marking him as a aerial magic user.

He was a stigma- a singularity.

Most people thought that aerial magic was entirely useless.

Well they were entirely wrong.

Sync walked over to his window, slowly opening it so that it didn’t make a sound. He climbed up on the sill and leaned out before allowing himself to fall.

The wind picked up a bit and Sync felt light. Large brown feathered wings spread from his back, hidden against the night sky. The wind carried him carefully over the city, eventually landing on the roof of a skyscraper.

New Risha City was beautiful at night. One of the largest cities in the country.

Sync let out a low whistle.

A pigeon flew to his outstretched arm, perching on his hand like a falcon. “Hello,” Sync said, “How are things?”

The pigeon whistled back. Sync had deciphered the pigeon’s language a while ago. It was another hidden talent of aerial magic users- the ability to communicate with birds.

Most Aerial Magic users could only manipulate the wind.

Sync was a special case. He whistled something back to the bird before taking to the skies once more. In the sky he was in a state of euphoria- always feeling as though he could touch the stars.

Nights like this were wonderful, with the stars at their finest. The pigeon flew along next to him, until the pigeon took a sudden dive, and Sync followed suit. They landed atop a tall office building and the pigeon gave a short whistle.

“Here!” It chirped in it’s language.

“Well done,” Sync responded before dropping down in front of the building- South Risha bank. He pushed open the doors and upon seeing multiple people with guns he commanded, “Put down the weapons!”

The thing about Sync was that even if he tried to be a superhero, he was not the most threatening person.

One of the robbers let out a chuckle. “Or what? You’ll peck us to death?” She laughed, “stupid pigeon.”

“Pigeon is such a stupid name. I wish you’d all just drop it,” Sync said before lifting his hands and sweeping a gust of wind across the room, throwing the weapons from their hands.

The woman who had scoffed before had her face twisted to that of pure rage. She pulled a knife from her pocket and charged.

The hero simply dodged, grabbing her wrist and knocking the knife from her hand with a twist. He kicked the back of her knee, throwing her to the ground.

Sync let out a low whistle and a flock of pigeons came crashing through the window, attacking the remaining robbers and Sync let out a short laugh.

“FEAR THE PIGEONS!” Sync yelled before running back onto the street and flying off, pulling out his phone and calling the police.

“911 what’s your emergency?”

“South Risha Bank,” he said.

“Pigeons.”