You’d expect me to hide from a formidable opponent, but my soul is hard-wired for defiance and committed to protecting those who cannot defend themselves. Black cumulonimbus clouds rise forty thousand feet in the air to provide Cyclops with his anvil. His forge is the birthplace of lightning, tornados, and hailstorms.

Plunged into darkness, frightened souls huddle. Sobbing like small children, they pray and beg for forgiveness. Despite deafening thunder, eye-...