Answer:
I am what remains when nothing is left.What am I?
What flies without wings? What passes all things? What mends all sorrow? What brings the morrow?
It is a sound of empty, speak and it'll talk back plenty. But all the more you yack, you'll get the same words back.
Searing 'cross the pitchΒ-black skies, I scream in celebration, Yet moments later, my outburst through, I am naught but imagination.
A leathery snake, with a stinging bite. I'll stay coiled up, unless I must fight.
Special abilities and brightly colored underwear are all you need to be one of these.