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Nobody throw Night Terror a mock salute. Night Terror just shakes his head as he turns and heads off to the next rooftop.

Sunil pops the quarter into his pocket, and strolls across the street.

Magmamite – or now rather Sunil – kicks off his boots while unzipping and dumping the contents of his bag. He yanks a pair of ragged jeans over his silver pants, then throws on a dingy t-shirt and a ripped flannel long sleeve. He pops on a pair of old sneakers, then shoves his boots

Now just a boy in silver pants and boots, Magmamite leans into the dumpster and pulls back a well-worn backpack. At first, he mentally congratulates himself, until he spots a fresh stain on the bag composed of a smelly, sticky substance that seeped over from a neighboring bag of garbage.

Magmamite waits a moment, then sneaks his way carefully over to the row of dumpsters. As he steps, the glowing red lines of lava across his arms and torso diminish. His hardened, rocky hide turns to ash as it drops off his skin. By the time he reaches the dumpsters, just bits of grayish dust

Relay looks at him conflicted, unsure how to follow up. But as voices around them grow louder, she simply throws him a wave, takes a deep breath, and speeds away.

Magmamite is about to storm away, when Relay offers up her compromise.

Relay straightens herself up, wobbling a bit as she does.

With that, Night Terror flicks the silver ball downward. It pings off the pavement, popping open to release a large thick cloud of smoke. While the cops scramble to regain clear sight, a grapple hook launches out of the billowing smoke, wrapping around a balcony railing 12 stories above. The wire retracts with a zinging

Meanwhile, Night Terror and Nobody have inched themselves towards the remnants of the sidewalk behind them. The police, guns drawn, tighten around the two in a semi-circle. None notice the tiny silver ball that Night Terror rolls between his fingers.