This is Miguel Torres, coming you live from downtown, where infamous super-criminal Dark Trident and a group of at keast a dozen henchmen have taken over the headquarters of Zonacorp, and is holding the employees inside hostage. Dark Trident's motives are unknown, as he has not released any demands, and he does not have any known history with the company. City police are still forming a plan for how to best handle this delicate situation.
For those who may not be familiar, Dark Trident is best known for-
Ladies and gentlemen, I have just recieved word that the city's mysterious protector, Solar Flare, has been sighted in the vicinity, and is on approach to Zonacorp. In fact, I think I hear him now- yes, there he is, Solar Flare, here to-
I... you're getting this, right?
Uh, folks, for those of you that can't see the footage right now, Solar Flare is taking down Dark Trident's henchmen with a sort of cold efficiency we've never seen from him before. He's already on the third floor of Zonacorp, and we haven't even heard a word out his mouth. This is- ah!
And now half the hostages are sitting in front of the medical tent Holden General has set up. They seem to be just as confused as we are, and look, he didn't even untie them! What's going on here?
Well, whatever he's doing, it seems to be working, but will it be enough to handle Dark Trident? Solar Flare has defeated him before, but the hostages he still 6 there in the top office complicate things. I don't know if-
...Folks, Solar Flare just ran out of the building and dropped a seemingly unconscious Dark Trident in front of the police chief. Let's see if we can get some answers.
Excuse me, Mr. Flare? Miguel Torres, Channel 6 news. What prompted you to-
Well folks, this has been an unusual day. Our experts back at the station still aren't sure why Solar Flare was in such a rush roday, but I'm sure whatever he's doing is crucial for our safety. Back to you in the studio.
Solar Flare burst through his front door as quickly as he could, only his well-honed muscle memory stopping him from tearing it off its hinges. He could hear a loud, repetetive beeping coming from the other side of the house. "No no no no..."
He ran through the building, shedding pieces of his costume as he went. He slid into the kitchen, tugging on a set of protective mitts and wrenching the oven's door open. He recoiled as a blast of steam wafted out. As soon as it cleared, he bent down, flicked the oven light on, and sighed with relief. The cake was still a-okay.