Watch where you step, for the monsters could be right behind you. Do you have a guardian angel? Our world has seven, all led by one man (who is currently indisposed due to severe swelling of the pancreas).
This is his story.

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Ep. 9, Arc 1 (Psychic City Arc), Ep. 4: Shocking inquisition - Fight or Flight?
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In his cell, the prisoner was silently cursing in French again, but this time not the teachers who caught him, but rather himself for getting caught. He, being one of the most powerful beings on the planet, was caught because he was careless and stupid about keeping surveillance on his former educators. Perhaps had he thought it out or awaited the others, it would have gone better.
No, that's not true, he thought to himself. I just found out earlier today that the other angels even have their powers. How was I supposed to wait for them? They probably don't even know what's going on...
All the more reason to break out, he thought, but how is the problem...

The straightjacket really confined him. Being made out of thick rubber, he had no way to break out of it or wear it down. But how thick is the rubber?
He began to come up with an idea. It would take some work, a small amount of slight of hand, some trickery, and a decent amount of luck (all of which was made harder still due to the straightjacket), but it would work. It had to. If this didn't work, he wouldn't see the light of day until it was too late.

He looked at his three guards. Two were asleep and the other, Mr. Schmadeke, was facing the other direction and was muttering to himself, something about substitutes being incompetent... It's perfect, he thought, time to put my plan in motion. He stood up and moved backward slowly until he was against the wall. He bumped into it, and then purposely did so again, and bounced a tad off it due to the rubberness of the straightjacket. He smirked. Perfect.

He bounced back into it a couple more times, and then decided it was time to get to work. He walked to the bars of the cell, and then ran backward. He bounced off the wall with immense force and slammed back into the bars, bouncing off of them and into the wall. He got faster and faster as he added his running to the increasing force, until the bars finally gave way and he slammed through, smashing the sleeping guards into each other and startling Schmadeke. It took him a second to recover, but by then his prisoner was darting down the hall, trying to rub against it for some reason. Schmadeke knew what he was looking for-a bumpy spot that could rip his straightjacket. "Oh no Santana, you aren't getting away that easily!"
Santana looked back at Schmadeke. "I'd like to see you try and stop me when you couldn't even beat me in chess!"
"That's low!" Schmadeke began to chase him, but soon saw that it would be useless. These halls lead to the outside, and Schmadeke knew he couldn't catch Santana in time. He had to think up something else.

His other guards were still out and they were the only ones with walkie talkies. "Probably smashed," Schmadeke muttered as he tried to speed up. He reached into his pockets and pulled out a chess piece, a rook. He threw it ay Santana's feet, and sure enough, Santana slipped on it and fell backward.
Fortunately enough, he had just caught a bump in the wall the right way as this happened, and as he fell, the jacket ripped and Santana was released. He stood up and smiled. "Schmad, even in victory, you still fail." Santana took a deep breath, and as he breathed out, wings began to seep out of his back. These wings, however, were amazingly unique and non-uniform. They were made out of pure electricity, in a whitish yellowish color. They seemed to be almost pure light, but Schmadeke found himself gazing at them in awe.

"So, you're wings are amazing, as they had said. I am impressed. However, you are wrong in saying I fail, for your wings out is exactly what I wanted." Santana looked at him oddly. He didn't understand in the slightest how him being at full power could be a problem. "I can see you are confused," the teacher began. "I know that you have a lot of power, too much in fact. You cannot fully control it, and if I can find a weakness, I win. And I think I may just have one..."

He reached behind his back and pulled out a squirt bottle of water. "What would happen," Schmadeke asked, "if I were to squirt this on your wings? Would they expand, shrink, disappear? Would you be shocked or would nothing happen? Let's find out." He began squirting a stream, and Santana smiled. He expanded the wing being shot at so it hit the stream, and the electricity climbed through it and shocked Schmadeke.

"Heh, knew you'd fall for that," Santana said as he turned his back (and wings) toward Schmadeke. "Time for me to go now, Schmad. It's been fun...not."
He ran off, his wings retracting. He got to a dead end at the end, turned around and backed up to the wall. He released his wings into it and the wall virtually disintegrated. Light from the sun poured in, and he turned around again and took off into the sky.

"I gotta find Ben and the other angels," he told himself. "Keith may be a good leader, but he may not believe me. If I find Ben though, well... Okay, so maybe Ben won't believe me. After all, I have been known to joke around, but this is serious. I really need to take this seriously, and Ben and Keith should understand me. I just hope I'm not too late..."

TO BE CONTINUED...