He looked around and saw nothing, no villains, no criminals, no heroes. Was his jetpack extra noisy this night? Enigma thought. He had no time to play around with the enigma in front of him. The air crackled around his wings as he flew and a loud BOOM could be heard as his mace traveled through space. He would knock him out of the sky and be home for dinner. Hawk flew right at the man with the Jet pack on and swung his mace at the man's midsection. Hawk became more and more annoyed with the floating man.
Hey! You can't fly here.Can you here me? You can't fly here! Hawk pointed his finger down to the ground. Flying slowing towards the white skinned man Hawk spoke loudly, over the noise of the jetpack. He meant this to be more of an intimidations than an actual attack. Hawk pulled out his mace and flew towards the strange looking man. Jetpack on and blowing fumes all over the sky. In the distance his eyes caught a strange figure floating in mid-air. Killing was in his nature, it was what he was good at and war was something he always craved. Sometimes he smiled when he thought about his days as an assassin. It was always small time criminals and Andy and LP insisted that he not kill anyone. It was his night for patrol, he hated patrol. Maybe things would pick up a little and Enigma would see some action. He zipped his skin back up and pulled down his shirt. He reached for his customized weapon of choice: The Moo Beam, guaranteed to paralyze your target for three minutes. He pulled it and openned up his rip cage. He looked down on his chest, pulled the costume's shirt up and reached for the zipper on his skin. Maybe if things had not gone the way they had, he would have become a criminal, if not a super villain. He remembered back to the days when he used to hang out with Walter Simmons, the creator of the Jet-Pack and Enigma's first friend after his memory losing accident.
He reached over for the Jetpack's off switch and turned the machine off. His feet touched down over a building's roof top. His arms on his hips and his eyes attentive over the streets. The full moon's light did not hid any part of the crime fighter's body, who floated proudly over the city. Yet in a slow night like this one, it was beginning to make him sleepy. The constant sound of his Jetpack's engine sometimes annoyed Enigma. The soft wind blew through Enigma's thin brown hairs.
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