The neon sign above the "Lucky Clover" dive bar flickered with a rhythmic, dying buzz that matched the pounding in Leo’s head. Inside, the air was a thick soup of stale beer and cheap tobacco. Leo sat in the corner booth, his knuckles white as he gripped a glass of water. He wasn’t here to drink; he was here to hide.
Leo stood alone in the center of the bar. The transformation began to recede, the steel softening back into pale, bruised skin. He felt the familiar, crushing exhaustion pulling at his soul. He looked at the TV again. The news was showing a map of his possible locations. [S1E8] Issue #108: You Won't Like Him When He's...
Leo looked down at his trembling hands. A faint, silvery shimmer danced under his skin, like mercury flowing through his veins. It had been three weeks since the accident at the Ishida Labs. Three weeks of blackouts and waking up in craters, surrounded by the wreckage of whatever—or whoever—had crossed his path. "Hey, pal. This booth is reserved." The neon sign above the "Lucky Clover" dive