A superhero is never safe - even at home

Last evening, whilst in prayer in my room in the basement of my mother's house, I suddenly sensed something amiss in the equilibrium of righteousness which now constantly surrounds me. I leapt to my feet as a platoon of black-clad ninjas emerged from the shadows. Combat commenced at once.

After defeating roughly the first twenty or so, beams of energy began to spray from my sinuses - it seemed I had yet another power. Then, a hulking fortress of a ninja cast his shadow over me. I saw in my mind that he would soon swing with his massive left fist, and then sneeze from the airborne cat dander in my subterranean lair (my mother's basement). I dodged the blow, then bit him in his solar plexus as he sneezed, dropping him to the dirty-laundry strewn floor.

Ah-ha. I also have the precognitive powers of sensing the attacks of evildoers and their respective allergies.

Needless to say, the ninjas were soundly stomped, turning to black wisps of vapor as they fell. I went to bed wondering who had sent them, and how many more powers I would develop in the coming days. Stay close to me, Friends of Righteousness, I shall soon reveal the full list.

In other superheroing news, I recently read this sad article on the trustworthy news source, Lark News. It seems my contemporaries are falling one by one, and I shall be a lone towering, pinnacle of evil-bashing in practically the same as my career as a golden-tights-clad-crimefighter begins.