In the beginning, Maxwell "Electro" Dillon had always put himself toward the front-lines; he wanted to be a known face of the Resistance, this scar across his face signifying more than just pain. "This is oppression!" He'd yell, "This is fascism! Send a message, for Christ's sake! Stand up for yourself, City, don't let them take your power away!" He had had to change strategies, of course, once rioting became scarcer and torture and arrest became standard operating, but he continued to make his presence known. Power to the People, he painted on buildings, he burnt them down, he knocked out their power. It didn't always stay out for long, but it was a message that he wasn't helpless; that none of them were helpless. He stayed in empty subway cars, or occupied ones if options were slim.

He was afraid. He never admitted it, never let it show in his face or his voice, but he was afraid. This was never what he had wanted to become, or wanted to stand for. Electro knew he may have become a face for something, however minor, but he was not as big as his voice would make him seem. He wanted importance, he wanted recognition, but he was not a selfless man. He was waiting for the day his cowardice and greed would grow stronger than his need to be heard, taking the lead so he wouldn't be caught.

It hadn't yet, anyway.