[b][color=yellow]Michael Watts a.k.a Omega[/color][/b]

Back at the HQ, Michael was back at the bench press lying down with his arms crossed as he lifted the bar with his mind. His eyebrows furrowed and the intense look on his face showed how bothered he was. He didn't want to go to the medical wing to see theveryone damage and he damn sure didn't want to see it on the news. If he was a lot stronger, he could have put the fire out on his own. 

[i]Why do I even care? The mission was accomplished. It was in the heat of the moment. I took charge and we did what we could do with what we had.[/i]

His com link sat on the floor beside the bench, just waiting for the whole team to be called into some sort of meeting. Until he had his thoughts and the swift movements he could hear from someone practicing some sort of combative martial arts. He was never a student to such teachings and only relied on his brawler type of style and his powers to overpower his opponents. He did see an art to having ano actual fighting style. 

Suddenly the bar rattled as it was being lifted and dropped. He quickly caught the bar with one hand before placing it up. Sitting up, he glanced at Wicked. She was blowing off steam as well.

"With all the money that got shelled out into this place, I figure you would have invested in some kind of combat room. " He said as stood up and put on his com link.