With great power comes great responsibility

Great balls of fire rained from the sky as he heaved oil drums from the ground and flung them through the torches. He was caught up in it.

He floated above the barren landscape, his morphed whip-arm flexibly terrorising the fleeing civilians with whatever was to hand. Then the hunters came. The great mutant bloodhounds had caught onto his morph scent as he had wreaked havoc throughout the building.

His body rippled as he morphed his entire form, leaving dark exoskeletal armor and massive deadly claws. He dropped to the ruins and charged down his foes. He cleaved many of them, but they would not stop coming. He became dire, and unleashing a great torrent of devestating power, his body erupted into spindly tendrils, impaling five dozen of the hunters. But the mutant tide did not relent. He fought valiantly, but eventually succumbed. As he lay there, his clawed maul unfurled, and the bill from the restaurant that had been behind him became visible. $97.50 for a smoked salmon fillet.

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