It's a dream of numbing vertigo, fireballs and snowflakes. The sounds are startling and the vision is clear. There is an eerie keening of the wind, the swirling blizzard that's bringing an entire city to its knees. The city is in its ruins and he looks at it from afar - his cowl on fire and his black Kevlar breast pad glistening under scantily covered snowflake sparkling like diamonds.

He can feel every molecule beneath the skin covered in spandex - they are in a hurry and they are vibrating. His muscles reflect on the task at hand and his brain registers the posed challenge. How does one get out of a city under attack from both natural and man made elements? The ledge on which he stood shook gently at first and then its vibration resonated in his bone. They sung a ballad of failed soldier as the ground beneath him collapsed.

He urged his muscles to break the pattern. He begged his mind to take a leap of faith. His heart conceded first.

Just before the complete collapse of the building, he found out that he could fly.

His suit dried in the wind and the cowl followed him like a reverend lover after the wind successfully put of the fire. He flew as if it was the epiphany he was always waiting for. He flew as if he had finally found the purpose in his life.

He flew like he always did in his dreams.

Several days later when the rescue crew cleared the rubble, they pulled a man with half torn cowl and a faded Kevlar.

They mourned at the death of a hero.