"if someone hasn't done it already," Centennial Man calls out to anyone around the tavern and within earshot, "phone 9-1-1. This man is stabilized, but he will need attention and questioning afterwards. I gotta go. There's a psycho, gun-toting vigilante I need to chase down"
The young hero sprints away from the tavern and leaps into the air, letting his telekinesis and the thermals around him carry him away.
"It's Centennial Man. I'm en route." He looks around from his bird's eye view, frantically looking for signs and landmarks. "Um, I don't have a compass. Where's my east?"