The white cell was perfectly boring, perfectly maddening. He needed something to do, something to occupy his mind. The patterns on the wall panels had served that function for a short time after he had been thrown in here, but now the sheer lack of anything was chipping away at his sanity.

Then again, perhaps he was mad already? Hadn't he just decided to destroy civilisation and take over the world? Those were not the goals of most reasonable men. But no, he decided, he was not mad, and would endeavour to stay that way. He would need his wits about him if he was ever to rule. Knowledge is power, he repeated mentally, and precision is strength. Knowledge is power, precision is strength. He would hold to these things for however long he was here.

*****

The first PDA was intriguing, if not entirely impressive. The "Guardian Angel" claimed that he had been chosen personally, and yet it was clearly a one-size-fits-all job, addressing him as a Rogue who had failed in his criminal career, and would be interested in an evil scheme. James Falcon was neither of these things, and anyone who had taken the least amount of trouble to research him would know that. Of course, they would also be unaware of his recent change of heart and resolution to become what many would call a supervillain. He had come to that conclusion here in this cell with no one else around. Nevertheless, he tapped the button quickly. Any opportunity to get out of his cell was welcome, and if it came from someone who hadn't a clue who he was or would become, then so be it.

The second PDA message was much more to his liking. This "Mister Sinister" may have skipped while researching his benefactors, but James could certainly respect the man's capabilities if he was truly able to accomplish such a thing. It would be worth his while to keep the PDA and learn more of this person and his goals, even if their paths must eventually part. He could use them to gather resources and experience, and perhaps gain allies as he fought towards his goal.

He tapped again, then sat down with his back to the wall and his legs outstretched in front of him. He would need to clear his head and make a plan, such as he could, before launching his career as a rogue. This was to be the first great act of his new life, and he would take hold of it with both hands. He counted the seconds as time slipped away.