Days-old stubble layered his chin with a few whites poking out of his dark, growing beard. His eyes looked bloodshot and his hair had become a foul, tangled mess. Abruptly, Hyperman appeared hovering over his desk and, with a wave of his hand, caused the holo-screens to blink out. Gasping, Mors stumbled back and collapsed down to his knees. “Savior!” he cried, folding his hands together and holding them up as in prayer. “Get up,” Hyperman tiredly said. “I can’t stand groveling.” Mors stood and straightened back up, brushing dust off his suit. “Of course,” he said. “I should retain my dignity. It is a virtue after all.” He paused. “I have sources who say S.I.L.E.N.T. is looking for you. The Invincibles too.” “I’m sure they are,” Hyperman said, “but they can only find me if I let them and I will eventually, but we have work to do first.” He floated down to the floor. “You and I are going to be saving this world. Truly saving it, I mean, once and for all.
