The pane glass window at the front of the bank exploded outward, sending pieces of shatter-proof glass scattering down the city street, smoke billowing forth from the portal. A thin man stepped through the window and looked about. He was of Middle Eastern descent, with matted black hair reaching past his shoulder blades, wearing simple brown and white clothes made of a coarse looking material. He hefted three large bags over his shoulder in one hand, and held his other hand at his side, a tendril of red energy wrapped around his forearm, crackling and sparking.

As he cleared the bank two police cars screeched to a halt in the middle of the street, sirens wailing. He shot his arm forward and the tendril continued the trajectory, shooting out towards the first car. As it made contact with the front of the vehicle, he yanked his arm back, sending the car flying into the third story of a nearby building. Before the driver of the second car could react, he slammed the now airborne tendril into it's ceiling, folding the car nearly in half.