I was a normal kid, went to high school, was popular, yadda yadda... and then I had my 19th birthday. That's when it all went to hell. I threw a big house party at my place, but things got out of hand. Some fires got started, and not even I knew how - even though I knew they were all somehow to do with me.
While the fire department hosed down the wreckage that used to be our house, and the paramedics carted away three of my best friends, the police dragged me away for questioning. Soon enough, a load of scary government types took me away, and put me on a weird "training course" - that's what they called it, but I think they were trying to brainwash me into being some kinda secret agenr or spy or something. I wish I knew. Either way, they taught me how to control my powers, and stop setting light to the bedsheets. Let's just say it's a good thing I seem to be fireproof, and leave it at that. I never got any answers, though. All I wanted to know was why this had happened to me.
Anyway, they let me go after a few months, and said I should return home and act like nothing had happened. I did, and sure enough, the house was back to normal, and mom and dad were acting like I hadn't even left. I was freaked out to the max.
I packed up the few belongings I had and made a break for it under cover of darkness. I'd heard that Paragon City was the place to be if you wanted to be anonymous, so that's where I headed. I managed to withdraw my savings before they could freeze the account or whatever, and I managed to get myself a ratty room in a cheap motel, in a bad part of town.
The first few nights were really bad. I didn't know what to do, and I pretty much stayed in my room, feeling like the loneliest person alive. Then, one night, I heard a scream outside my window. A lady was being mugged by three thugs with baseball bats. I snuck out onto the fire escape, cleared my mind like I'd been trained, and Whoosh! One of the guys was on fire. While he was rolling around on the floor, I leapt down and soundly kicked the ass of the second guy. (Of course, it helped that I took a whole load of self-defence classes back home!) By this point, the third guy was running - until the lady they'd been mugging, who I hadn't even looked at since the whole thing started, pulled something from her bag and threw it at him. He fell to the floor, trapped in a big, sticky mass. Neat stuff. The other two staggered away, helped him up, and all three made a break for it.
The lady introduced herself as Virginia Anderson, a dabbler in electronics and gadgetry. She thanked me for my help, explaining that she wouldn't have been able to handle all three by herself.
So, long story short, I made a friend that night - a very useful one. She set me up with a couple of gadgets and the name of a contact who could use my help, and told me a few of the ground rules of being a hero around these parts. She even came up with the name, Pyroclast. Since then, I've been out on the streets of Paragon City every night, fighting crime. It's given me a whole new lease of life. I feel energised each time I come home, battered and bruised. It's been a few months now, and I haven't heard anything from those government creeps, but I'm not enough of a blind optimist to think they've given up on me.
I guess I'll just have to keep a low profile, play it safe, and help out this city while I can.