From the beginning Allan's life was a hard one. He was raised an only son with only a mother to take care of him. From an early age his mother had to dedicate more time to the flower shop she ran in order to keep the family afloat. He only really ever saw his mother early in the morning before he went to school and even then she was much too busy to properly take care of him. He did everything himself since he was forced to take care of himself since his mother was simply too busy to help.

Life at school was no easier. Being as shy as he was he never really made any friends and many of the other students took great delight out of tormenting him as well as anyone else who was unlucky enough to not fit in. He learned very little in the classrooms but out in the playground he learned to be hard, to be tough and to survive. Needless to say the days of his life when he was supposed to be enjoying life and having fun were spent in misery, fear and social isolation. Still, despite all the terrible things the people around did to him he vowed never to become like his tormentors.

Many years of this life he spent like this, resolute on trying not to become the scum of the earth which he had to endure the company of in the hallways and streets. It was at this point he started to realize he had strange powers he wasn't aware of. He went to the places he usually went when he wanted to be alone, places no one else typically went to such as abandoned junk piles, abandoned buildings and the sort. Outside the prying eyes of his peers he practiced, examining these strange new abilities he could now wield. In these places he practiced, testing the boundaries of his strength and improving them. Even with these new gifts he still continued on with life, keeping the power he wielded as a secret only he knew.

As he came of age he figured he needed to pick up a career in order to feed himself and afford rent. He managed to score a job as a security guard at a mall. It was by no means a highly prestigious position but they were willing to hire him and it beat working as a fry cook. What was nice was that since he picked up the night shifts he was often times the only guard on shift. He'd find areas away from the cameras and work out, testing his powers in secrecy while at work. It was also nice because during the day he had time to train in hand-to-hand fighting, an additional means of better controlling his strength. Of course he was definitely careful to make sure not to use any of his powers while training lest he end up revealing his secret.

One late night while Al was busy doing curls with a vending machine he heard a strange noise coming from down the hall. He set the large soda dispenser back against the wall and started walking towards the source of the noise. He approached a strange curio shop full of all sorts of unusual miscellanea, trinkets and the sort. Inside he could see three figures approaching the entrance. One set of footsteps was heavy and hard while another was accompanied with the rattling of a chain. The third was normal.

When the intruders stepped out he was in for a surprise. The first guy looked like the usual street punk with long ratty hair, dragging along a long heavy looking chain. The second guy looked like some sort of high end CEO type of fellow, complete with pitch black slicked back hair and a suit that looked like it cost more than Al's yearly pay multiplied by ten but more worryingly were his eyes which were blazing with fire. The third guy was the most surprising, a huge man covered from head to toe in a suit of chitinous stark black insectoid armor, a pair of glowing red eyes peering out from the open slot in what seemed to be partly a helmet and partly a growth fused to his black skin.

"What the..." Al was rightly at a loss for words upon stumbling upon this band of intruders. The serious man in a suit simply raised his hand, pointing straight at him.

"Take him out." The man with the burning eyes commanded. Al's body barely had time to even tense as the hulking man in chitinous armor lunged forward immediately upon hearing the order. With a fist easily as large as Al's own head he smashed him with a straight punch to the chest, sending him flying back with the sheer force he hit him with. Sailing through the air Al's body hit the mesh gate in front of the grocery store, tore a hole straight through it and continued through until he crashed into the side of a line of shelves.

"Huh. They usually break." The armored man remarked as he looked to where Al had landed. He was slumped in the crater his back left on the shelf, food items scattered about the floor. His whole chest throbbed with pain and his breathing was labored. Still, despite the tremendous force of the blow his rib cage remained intact. There was still fight in him yet as he struggled back to his feet, attempting to gather his bearings.

"Haha! Looks like this night just got interesting!" The one who held the chain jubilated, the thrill of the fight sending a chill of excitement as he surged forward, his chain slithering behind him. Swinging the chain forward the linked line of metal suddenly became a whole lot more animated, whipping out towards Al who was still staggering from the previous blow. The long chain cut through the metal mesh in front of the store like it was tissue paper, lashing out and wrapping around Al's torso. Al attempted to grab the chain but before he could attempt to seize it the seemingly living metal launched up, driving his head into the ceiling before it slammed him down into the floor. The whole ground shook at the impact, leaving an Al shaped hole in the floor.

This was bad. He was just being slung around like a toy doll by this greasy street punk, cackling as he manipulated the chain to his every whim. The chain's hold on him was powerful like the grip of a titan, even for one as strong as he. There was little way he was going to loosen it's grip on him, not that it was giving him any real opportunity to as it ran his head down the shelves along an entire aisle. Thinking fast as he was real tired of being smashed into things he caught a loose glass jar of salsa. As the man wielding the chain reeled him in for a real beat-down Al pitched the jar as hard as he could at the guy's head.

Crash! The jar connected, shattering from the force of the impact. With a short note of surprise and pain the punk's head whipped back. The chain lost all strength as the body slumped to the floor, knocked cold. Before Al could rise to his feet however the armored man rushed over, arms raised to deliver a haymaker.

Al rolled out of the path of the blow just in the nick of time, sending chips of flooring and concrete up at him like shrapnel. Even as thrashed as he was the sharp debris failed to pierce his rock hard skin. Without a moment's pause he scrambled to his feet and started running away, the insectoid ogre of a man giving chase. Though Al was light and strong the larger man held a lot of momentum and was gaining on him. Seconds from being caught he made a sudden right, turning down and aisle and taking off. The armored attacker had more difficulty turning on a dime like Al did, the distance between them growing.

Despite this gap he grew with so much aisle to travel down Al realized he wasn't going to make it to the end before his pursuer could get to him. In a snap decision of desperation he skidded to a halt before leaping at the heavy pugilist, both legs out in a double kick at the guy. While the kick connected the force only served to briefly halt the man while Al simply fell to the floor, on his back once more. To keep the chitinous bruiser from descending upon him he attempted to kick the foe back but he simply swept Al's legs aside and started raining blows upon him.

Al had his arms tucked in a tight guard but each hit landed with enough force to drive him through the ground, a little deeper with each punch. That was not to mention the fact that he felt like he was getting hit by a speeding car with each punch he took. He knew that simply defending only meant that he was going to get killed, plain and simple. With that in mind he seized the brief moment after a strike where the man wasn't hitting him and lowered his guard, reaching down and grabbing hold of the man's black chitinous ankles. With a swift yank Al pulled himself in between the man's legs, his head slipping right below a blow meant for his face. Now behind the guy he swiveled on his back, facing his feet at the assaulter's back plates. Pushing off from his back he kicked the man's rear end, sending him tipping over onto his face.

It was a window to act. He was succeeding much better than he initially felt, what with one attacker down and the other now open for retaliation. He could of run then but he decided to try his hand and fight back. Quickly pushing himself up onto his feet he was about to seize the opportunity to strike back when something caught his eye. Right in his arms reach on the shelves next to him were jars of peanut butter. Now this would not be an interesting fact under any regular circumstances but in this case it was pertinent since his foe was armored. The likes of this guy's chitinous shell might rebuff his fists however peanut butter would definitely find it's way through the cracks in his protection.

Just as the armored man was rising to his knees in the process of standing up he looked up only to see plastic case of peanut butter rapidly approaching his face. Before he could intercept the object with his hands Al drove it right into his face. The package was ripped apart upon the harsh edges of the foe's face plates, the gooey light brown paste splattering through the brow guards into his eyes. Al leaned back, dodging a fast swat at him as the blinded fighter roared in inarticulate offense. This was it, the time to lay down some revenge pummeling.

Only for everything to suddenly light up. A beam of concentrated fire, about as large as Al's own body, burnt a hole through each and almost every object in it's path. Were he some ordinary human he'd be little more than charred dust at this moment. Thanks to his phenomenal defense however the stream of fire only served to completely immolate him, the heat blistering his skin.

This whole time the man with the burning eyes had been following his every move, watching him even through the many shelves and other obstacles. This was why they needed him, because once he sees someone he can always see where they are. The ability to incinerate all that he sees with fire was simply a pleasant side benefit.

At this point the man in armor was not important. The man with the chain nor even the man in the suit were important. The only thing that was important was the fire. He needed to put it out, nothing else at that moment mattered to him. Quite nearly flailing in agony Al ran for the nearest freezer and jumped into it, not even bothering to open the door as he simply crashed through the glass pane. Once inside he grabbed several buckets of ice cream and pressed them flat against himself, dousing the flames in ice cold cream. Once the worst of the fires were quelled he looked out to assess the situation.

The guy with the chain was starting to come out from his brief bout of unconsciousness and the armored man was still busy trying and failing to clear the peanut butter from his eyes since the chitinous plates around his fingers were too large to fit in his eye slot. The man in the suit however was still looking straight at him, the flames in his eyes growing with intensity. This wasn't a fight he was going to win. Even if he tried to stop the man in the suit from immolating him all over again the man with the chain was going to be rejoining the fight shortly and the armored man not long after him. Seeing no clear victory to be had he decided to take this momentary recess to escape.

Leaping from the freezer Al ran for the exit. Like a rabbit in pursuit his heart was beating rapidly as the adrenaline carried him forward, keeping him moving and holding back every sense that was pushing at the gates of his awareness to tell him he should stop moving and collapse. He bolted through the exit, tripping the silent alarm to the building as a result. This did not keep him however as he kept running, not pausing until his legs were on the verge of giving out beneath him. After the panic that gripped him had faded fatigue filled the void it had left, leaving Al with little other choice than to collapse into the nearest dumpster, resting upon bags of garbage until he was able to fight through the pain he was in and find the strength to dial a cab.

As the man with the chain's vision stopped spinning he held his head which throbbed with pain, looking about for the guard that dealt him the blow only to catch a fleeting glimpse of the man running through the exit. Before he could chase however the man in the suit extended an arm, holding him back.

"Hey, we just letting him go alive-like just like that?" The punk complained, the chain in his hands itching to coil around Al's throat and crush the life out of him.

"No. More formidable foes are on route to here. We have the stone, we need to leave. Now."

The two wanted to finish what they started with the lone security guard however neither one were going to disobey the words of their leader. Waiting only long enough for the man in armor to rinse the peanut butter from his face plates they fled the scene before their opposition could close on the situation. Aside from failing to kill a witness their crime went mostly without error. This was not the last time Al was going to see them however.

He recovered quickly after the incident. By the time he was home he felt fine despite suffering injuries that would of left most people hospitalized for months. He discovered he could use his power for more than just taking hits and dealing them out. He could also heal damage suffered simply by concentrating on recovering, hence his state upon returning home.

Despite keeping his powers hidden all this time he knew that hiding was no longer an option. This was made especially clear when investigators interviewed him regarding footage of the encounter. Given how he was on shift when the damage occured he was guaranteed to be out of his job. Luckily the information regarding the more supernatural aspects were kept from the public. The police records were confiscated by government agents for review from higher agencies.

After all that Al figured if he couldn't live a normal life he might as well become a nomad. At least then he might have the free time to try and find the guys who attacked him and figure out what that was all about.