The Powers of a Wish

The courtroom doors banged loudly as they swung closed, swallowing up Athena Dawnlight and the baliff who escorted her. The sound made the prosecutor, Adam Smith, smile. It hadn't been the best possible result, but then again, he hadn't been expecting the best possible result.

Ever so slowly, the prosecutor rose from his chair. "If that is us done, then I shall be on my way. Judge Harrison, Mr. Scott, Mr. Hart, pleasure to meet you all."

The only response Smith got was one of dirty looks, filled with suspicion. He knew for a fact that not a single person in that room liked him in the slightest. Something he could not care less for. With a carefree wave, he made his way out of the courtroom, followed shortly by the criminal, File, bound in chains and under heavy guard.

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*Behind the Steel Canyon Courthouse*

A armoured van was already waiting, with an equally well equipped escort nearby. File was not exceptionally powerful as an individual, but had countless contacts and cronies willing, or forced in some cases, to try and spring him should the situation call for it.

Now out of sight of cameras and official eyes, the police officers dragging the scruffy convict along revealed a far rougher side of themselves. Gone was the slow, professional manner; replaced with a quick pace that was accompanied with plenty of pushing and shoving of the convict. Once the three men reached the van that would take them across Paragon to the Zig, one officer, clearly the one in charge, turned and spat in File's face before speaking.

"You're a real scumbag, you know? It's bad enough everything you normally do, but then we have to drag your sorry ass into that room and then just sit there as you and that other pile of filth Smith go and get a real supergroup convicted. If I had my way, people like you would just go to the chair and we wouldn't have to listen to any of those bullshit idiots who cry on and on about human rights when some hero gives a villian what they really deserve."

File simply stood and stared, unfazed by the officer's rant. The officer in question, having got no reaction from the criminal, fumed momentarily before delivering a winding blow to File's stomach. Being no sturdier than the everyday man, File keeled over and exploded into a fit of coughs, sending his silver aviator glasses to the floor. Without giving him time to recover, the officers threw him into the back of the van hard and slammed the doors shut. Minutes later, the van and its escort was speeding away, lights and sirens blaring.

From a dark corner, a man stepped forth and walked casually over to the pair of shades still lying on the ground where File had stood. Bending down, the man picked the glasses up and inspected them for any damage. After he noticed a slight crack on one of the lenses, he put forward his finger and a small, white spark leapt forward, instantly repairing the lens and restoring the glasses to a pristine condition. Smith chuckled and slipped the glasses on, letting more white sparks dance between his fingers.

"Who would have thought I could get so much from one sword and its Shade...? Oh Casper, I wonder if you knew just how much power you held at your fingertips?"

Smith lit up a cigar, took a quick draw of it, and then walked slowly back into the shadows, chuckling as he went.