Evil.
Where does it begin? For countless centuries, since the minds of men opened to the concept of morality, this debate has existed without a true answer. War, famine, lust and greed were all as good as any guess for the birthplace of what truly corrupted a person.
In the ninth grade, when Luke was filled with far too much teenage confidence and an assurance that he knew better, he’d debated the topic with his philosophy teacher countless times. Power, he’d proposed, was the root of what turns someone to the dark side. Because people didn’t do bad things until they thought they could.
His theory might have also spawned from holding a grudge against everyone statistically more likely to develop powers, which was improbable for him because of his genes. People rarely beat such improbability, and Luke knew he would not be the next to.
But for the price of superpowers, fame and more money than he’d ever know what to do with, Luke was allowed a glimpse into the true unfettered birthplace of evil.
Retail.
“You should be capable of bagging those items faster.” Susan the bringing of doom commented in front of his counter as he slid some fire-resistant candy through his scanner. “I think Super-mart should have super service, don’t you?”
More specifically, customer service.
Luke squeezed his facial muscles into a smile.
“That is what we pride ourselves on.” He laughed with the joy of a man who’d just been hit by a car.
Susan curled her face into a sly grin. By Luke’s estimation, Susan was a fairly attractive woman in her mid-thirties with glowing red hair and a smile that might’ve made his heart skip a beat in any other circumstance. Susan was also a soulless monster with a robotic grocery schedule that somehow always aligned with Luke's shifts.
Meaning there was no escape.
“Yes, I’ve seen the ad with Shockwave. God knows how this place booked him.” Her green eyes stared at the nametag on his apron as she paused, as if she had forgotten his name the moment she left the store last time. “I don’t mean to offend, but what exactly is super about you, Lukas?”
My Self-control.
Because every part of him wanted to throw the most acidic thing he could at her. Not that it would do anything, considering she was a Supe. Maybe annoy her a little bit for the price of being thrown in a maximum security prison cell. That was not a fair trade in Luke’s humble opinion. So, he left his retaliation to daydreaming and just answered her verbal jab with silence.
Humble silence. In the hopes that she wouldn’t speak to him anymore.
Luke bagged her things under Susan’s watchful eyes, careful not to do anything that would give her cause to use her grating voice anymore. He rang up her groceries and gave her the bags with just a smidge of hope that she might stay quiet.
He was wrong.
“You should use some customer service next time, Lukas. No small talk, no efficiency and even no compliments. You’re not very good at your job, are you?” She laughed with her bags in hand, grinning at him as if she’d said the funniest thing.
Reggie was behind her. He could see his manager had stopped dead in his tracks out of the diary section, somehow sensing the situation unravelling before him. Luke could see him mouthing to just “smile and agree” like their company policy expected.
“I-” WANT TO WRAP MY HANDS AROUND YOUR NECK TILL YOUR HEAD PO-
He bit his tongue. Susan would probably turn him to ash if he said that. Something tamer.
“I’m-” GOING TO SHOVE A FIRE EXTINGUISHER DOWN YOUR THROAT AND-
Still too much.
“You’re-” An Awful Superhero who’s on a publicity restriction for burning down a school bus and maiming the driver during a skirmish. “-Probably right,” Luke uttered, clutching his plastic scanner so hard he could feel the thing crumpling.
“I’m a superhero, hon. We always are.” Susan said with a swing of her hair, gleaming with such self-righteousness that Luke started to feel dizzy.
He said a small prayer to the gods above after she left, then twiddled his thumbs waiting for another customer who never came. That wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in a place like Super-Mart. A grocery store that catered towards superheroes and their unique dietary needs was already a niche, and with today’s happenings, that small number of clientele dwindled even further.
Until Luke was left resorting to all the chewing gums displayed next to his register, with flavours from frost frenzy to dimensional displacement.
By the fifteenth reshuffle, Luke found himself questioning how he had ended up at a place like this. The answer was pretty obvious; as Susan had said, Luke wasn’t super. He was just a regular, slightly depressed twenty-two-year-old trying to manage his younger self’s delusions of grandeur.
And the disappointment that came with not being special in the slightest.
I should just go pretend to take inventory in the back. I could read the new Gamma issue on my phone if the cameras are still busted-
“Hey, buddy!”
Luke almost jumped as his manager popped up behind his counter. He was so lost in thought that he barely even registered the man’s presence.
“What’s up?” The cashier asked.
“Just wanted to pat you on the back for handling the more difficult customers with class like always,” Reggie said, tossing him a packet of super gummy bears. They were flavoured after only the most popular Supes.
Luke caught the packet and popped it open, throwing the sweet sugar-filled contents in his mouth. “Thanks. I *chew* do my best.”
“Got any plans for Bright?” Reggie asked, leaning over the counter and looking out towards the street.
Luke joined him, gazing out into the street, which was filled to the brim with daylight and people enjoying the once-a-month occasion. It was strange to think that before the war, this special occasion was an everyday occurrence. Even stranger to think that his parents had lived in that time themselves, waking up every day to the bright sun instead of a dim replica.
That was a thing of the past now. A relic from a time before the arrival of the Echoes. Before the time of war. Days didn’t share that same exuberant brightness, but a dim shine of dawn all the way till dusk, followed by the darkness of night. The entire Federation of Man was treated to only one truly sunny day a month, perhaps a final cruelty from an old enemy of humanity.
Maybe just a byproduct of war.
“I might go to Project Prodigy,” Luke mumbled, knowing he wouldn’t have the time. The convention was already well underway, and he wouldn’t make it in time unless he left now.
“That’ll be closed by the time you finish,” Reggie commented, echoing his thoughts.
Luke shrugged.
“Then I’ll just watch TV and go to bed. Gotta be back here tomorrow early anyway.”
“Don’t you want to take your girlfriend on a date?” Reggie asked.
“Don’t have one.”
“Go to the festival with your friends?”
“Don’t have those either.”
“What about family?”
Luke leaned against the counter, not exactly enjoying the barrage of questions. “I’ve got a sister, but she’s busy.”
And hates my guts. He kept that part to himself. His falling out with his last living relative was not his finest moment, and Luke would rather not mention it. Reggie gave him a strange look that the cashier figured passed for some sort of pity.
Reggie had always struck Luke as a people person. The kind of extrovert that tried to worm their way into your life whether you liked it or not. Charismatic would accurately describe him, and not having powers made it easy enough for the cashier to be friendly with him. But that was it; beyond his favourite superhero, supervillain, sports team, or soda flavour, Luke didn’t know him as a person.
He tended to like it that way.
Apparently, Reggie did not.
His manager paused and then jogged to the alcohol section, returning with two Bitter Buzzes. He tossed one to Luke and cracked open his own.
“Are we… allowed to drink?” Luke asked, keeping an eye on the camera watching them from the exit.
“Dude, this stuff’s made for Supes. It gets you drunk for like fifteen minutes then drains out of your system.” Reggie said, waving away his concern and taking a swig.
The part about it getting you drunk temporarily was true, at least. Federation laws prohibited the use of stimulants of any kind for Supes. If you ever tried it, you’d get yourself either Cuffed or, if you were too powerful of a Supe, expelled from the Globe. E.R.A.O didn’t play with that type of recklessness.
Of course, not being a Supe, Luke was more than welcome to get as drunk as he pleased. Because he couldn’t blow up buildings if he thought they were looking at him funny. Still, drinking on the job sounded like a good way to get fired.
And he needed his job to live.
Sooooooo….
“Mind if I save it for later? Might make the fireworks a little more colourful this year.” Luke asked, tactfully finding an out to the strange thing they called “social drinking”.
“Go ahead, I ain’t your keeper,” Reggie said, unbothered.
Luke nodded and deposited the drink in his bag. Who knew, he might have a couple of sips later. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d gotten drunk. It might be a nice change of pace.
“Susan must’ve been pissed to be acting like that. Has to have been because the great Meltar was in a timeout during Bright.” Reggie laughed.
“Probably. She was particularly prickly today.” Luke agreed.
There was a reason a store aimed towards Supes, both of the villain and hero variety, was empty during Bright. While comics and television shows like to portray Supes battling it out at night where the villains had the cover of darkness, the reality was a bit less fantastic. It was estimated that 10-30% of all skirmishes between Supes were purely for marketing, and those were the numbers released onto the internet.
The truth was probably much higher. That wasn’t to say that Supes didn’t legitimately scrap with each other over turf, crimes or trade off the official duties E.R.A.O. assigned them. It was well known that no one liked government-listed jobs that involved anything outside the Globe.
Or anything to do with the Swarm.
“Vena didn’t come in today, Nathan either.” Reggie mused, taking another sip of his drink. “Probably faking being sick to enjoy the Bright. That’s what I would’ve done at their age.”
“Smart move,” Luke mumbled.
I would have done it if I wasn’t paranoid about my livelihood. Not having parents made being reliable at work an easy feat to accomplish. He needed money to live, not to buy the newest prodigy-tech. Not that he held that against either of his co-workers. Different priorities for different people.
“But not diligent Luke, aye? No, you’d rather hold down the fort with me.” Reggie joked, pulling one of the carefully organised gum packets off the rack. “Doesn’t seem fair.”
Life isn’t fair.
“It’s not a big deal,” Luke said, keeping his more depressing opinions to himself.
Reggie made a strange face when he heard Luke’s dismissive answer, leaning over further until he was almost falling. His manager met him eye to eye, and for just a moment, Luke could’ve sworn he saw static spark over Reggie’s eyes. His expression had flattened to something serious, and suddenly Luke was much more aware that his manager was much taller than himself. Much better built, with a much better diet and a commitment to physical exercise Luke sorely lacked.
Much more imposing.
He also found that it didn’t bother him in the slightest. Weird.
“Be honest, do you like working here?” Reggie asked, peering into his eyes as if he were looking for a lie.
I’d rather be doing anything else.
“It’s alright.” Luke shrugged.
“Do you like your life?” Reggie asked, suddenly making the conversation much more personal than Luke wanted.
My life…
“My life is what I make of it,” Luke said, briskly dodging the question.
That made Reggie smile. Luke had only ever seen him grin, so he’d never noticed just how… creepy Reggie’s smile was. Wide, with teeth just a little too white and just a little too straight.
“Then the question becomes diligent little Luke, don’t you think you deserve a little more excitement?” Reggie asked slowly. Something about the way he said it made Luke feel like ants were crawling up his legs.
“I think I shouldn’t answer the question,” Luke muttered, leaning himself away from Reggie.
Reggie clapped his hands together, drawing back and stowing the creepy smile for his signature grin. “And that’s the first honest answer out of you! A smart one, too. You’ve got good instincts, kid.”
“Thanks,” Luke said, feeling a small wave of relief wash over him as his manager returned to normal. Must not do well with a Buzz. That conclusion made enough sense in his head for the cashier to accept it.
Just when Luke had thought Reggie was back to normal, the man hopped over the counter and put two stern hands on both of his shoulders, grasping them with enough strength to hurt. Luke winced, but that didn’t phase Reggie in the slightest.
“First things first, let’s start small! How about a day off to see the Prodigy Project, if you can make it in time!” His manager said with a little too much enthusiasm.
“But the store closes in two hours-”
“Luke.” Reggie interrupted him, skirting the twenty-year-old around and strapping his backpack on in a fashion that made him feel like a school kid again. “I can handle anyone that comes into the store. You’re young, and the youth need to live!”
Not seeming to take any of Luke’s flailing as a refusal, Reggie dragged him out of the store and into the Bright, sunny day full of people enjoying the once-a-month occasion. The smell of fresh street food from the corner danced across his nose and invited him forward. The omnipresent street lights Luke had grown so used to were off for a change, and the constant glow of neo advertisements around the shopping district had dulled to something much more bearable for his eyeballs.
“Now, go! Enjoy the world for a change, Luke!”
Reggie left with those final words, returning to Super-Mart and leaving Luke to weave his way through the crowded walkways. Somehow, he had earned himself a day off.
Huh.
“Today might not suck,” Luke whispered to himself.
He might get to see all the newest inventions this year's convention had to offer. That would be sweet.
*************
Nope, today sucks. Luke thought, face pushed into the dirty asphalt of an alleyway. A boot pressed on the back of his head, making it difficult to breathe. Something sharp and pointy pressed against his back, warning against any resistance. Not that Luke was going to resist to begin with.
Anyone who wasn’t an idiot had full coverage Bright insurance for moments like this.
To think, not even five minutes ago, he’d been happily chugging along on his electric moped, lazily following the directions on his phone. Minding his own business and dreaming about buying one of those brand new Prodigy Aerobikes plastered all over advertisements since the last Prodigy Project. The convention drew a lot of eyes purely from the prestige of it.
It had been where M.A.D., a scientist supervillain, unveiled his Magni-guns by holding everyone hostage. Excellent marketing.
But no, for whatever reason, his maps had decided to all of sudden reroute him down a few back alleys only accessible for two-wheel vehicles. Luke should’ve known. He really should’ve guessed something was off about it, but a massive crash causing traffic during Bright of all times was believable enough.
Not some jacked prodigy-tech that interfered with directional programs and lured unsuspecting victims like himself into them.
But that is exactly what happened, and his back still ached from the pain of being thrown off his moped.
Thank god that thing can barely crack forty… For once, the cashier was thankful his only mode of transport was a piece of shit.
The boot on the back of his pushed a little harder.
“Tell me, human! Are you afraid of Shrapnel?” A muffled voice asked, sounding less like a thug and more like a teenager.
I might be afraid if you hadn’t taken three minutes to set up a tripod after you tied me up. The whole experience was surreal to Luke. He’d been robbed before by actual thugs, but they were quick and discreet about it.
Instead, Luke was being pressed into the ground in an alley that wasn’t dark or discreet by what looked to be a teenager dressed in black rags. Maybe they were clothes, but they were so drapey and unintimidating that Luke didn’t want to dignify them as such. Perhaps the worst offender, other than the idiot recording himself, was the fact that they were right next to a residential area.
Luke could see houses past the brick sides of the alley. All nice and proper looking.
So no, despite being actively pressed into the ground and having a sword-like arm pressed into his back, Luke wasn’t very scared.
But that fact would probably make this whole thing take longer than it needed.
Soooooooo….
“Oh no, the horror. The pain.” Luke said, voice muffled slightly by his mouth halfway into asphalt. “Please don’t hurt me, Shrapnel.”
He made sure to say the last part as dramatically as he could. Shrapnel wasn’t such a bad first shot at picking a villain name, but there were better options. Perhaps with a couple of years down his belt, he’d be somewhat spooky. But talking in the third person wasn’t helping.
“Shrapnel is a fair evil. A fair villain.” Craning his neck up slightly, Luke could see the muffled rags over his face aiming towards the camera not five metres away from them, talking more to it than him. “But for the price of your life, human, I expect equal reward.”
Need to stop saying human like that… It’s going to alienate people. Luke kept the advice to himself as the boot finally stepped off of his head, letting him roll to the side and breathe freely. A bundle of rope still restricted his arms and legs from doing any more than flopping, but they weren’t nearly tight enough to hurt. Just a slight discomfort.
Maybe a rash. The real pain was the numbing ache in his back.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
For the first time, he got a good look at his attacker, and Luke wasn’t that impressed. One of his arms had morphed into a shiny silver blade, no doubt part of his power, and that was fairly impressive. But besides that, the villain he assumed was a teenager looked like he was wearing a bedsheet.
“Perhaps Shrapnel should take your…” The teen started before pausing to take a good hard look at the moped he had knocked him off of.
“It’s a moped,” Luke said flatly.
“Take your super moped as compensation!” Shrapnel said triumphantly, scathing his metallic arm across the paint and-
“Hey! Don’t scratch it!” Luke shouted, causing the living bedsheet to jump in alarm. Apparently, the small-time villain was more spooked than he was.
Probably a bad idea to freak out the teenager with a sword arm… I don't need him getting stabby.
“It’ll be worth less if you do,” Luke added softer, keen not to get impaled by an idiot on his first go of things.
“Right. That makes sense.” The villain nodded to himself, seemingly gaining a measure of confidence back before noticing the tripod red flash and gaining a little more composure. “Shrapnel will be taking the keys, human!”
This human thing is starting to sound a little…
Luke just kept that to himself, nodding. “Left back pocket, same with my wallet.”
He always kept his important things in his phone case anyway, and giving the perp a little more incentive to scoot was in his best interests.
Bedsheet went back to kneeling on top of him as he rooted through his pockets for the jingling keys and a fresh wallet. It was mildly uncomfortable but much better than a boot stamping into the back of his head. Probably the most annoying thing about it was the smell. For some reason, neither of Shrapnel's parents had taught him to practise proper hygiene and use deodorant.
Luke scrunched his nose, trying to keep out the smell of sweaty teenager.
Then, a much less muffled voice whispered in his ear.
“Don’t worry, I’ll give this all back once the video ends. Sorry about the hassle. I don’t have enough money to pay actors to be victims.” The voice cracked with a surprising amount of sincerity.
“It's…” Luke took a moment to decide how he felt about missing out on the one thing he wanted to do today and instead being robbed. “...fine.”
He heard the familiar jingle of keys and a strange emptiness in his back pocket as Bedsheet looted his wallet. At least he knew now he’d be getting back after Bedsheet was done with his video. Luke could hear him moving around and standing up, probably showing off his bounty to the camera.
Once that was done, he’d get all his stuff back.
Then I can go home.
A spark of electricity flickered across his vision. It chained between the stairwell and the ground in an arc so fast Luke’s eyes barely caught it. But it was there. And then it was gone.
What the hell was-
A boot started pushing on the back of his head again.
“Shrapnel will let you leave with your life this time, human!” the teenager started, probably posing for the camera. Luke couldn’t see with his head smushed into the pavement.
Only a few more seconds. The cashier told himself, holding out hope.
“Consider yourself lucky. Soon, this city… no, the whole Federation will know the name- AAARHHH!”
Something bright happened. Brighter than Bright.
Then, Luke’s vision turned black.
His senses came back to him in fragments. The first was touch, and with touch came pain. The ground was harder on his back, and Luke could feel his body seizing in sporadic motions. He could feel something foreign racing through his body, sparking his nerves and burning him. For a few seconds, that pain felt endless, like his whole body was on fire and frozen at the same moment.
Then it dissipated, fading in mere moments like it wasn’t there to begin with.
His smell came back. Luke smelled something burning, but the smell was smothered by… perfume?
A perfume that smelled like rain.
It felt like his brain was trying to put the things his senses were telling it back together and failing miserably. The world was still black even though he could feel his eyes blinking, and he still couldn’t breathe despite feeling his lungs heaving for air.
Am I dying?
That was not fine. That was not fine at all.
His heart was racing faster than when he’d tried to impress Gwen Harp in track class during the eighth grade. There was a jolt. He felt something grasp around his arms on either side. Hands? They felt like hands. Maybe medical services.
Luke tried to move, and thankfully, something good happened in this nightmare because his body still responded to him just fine. Despite a soft tug from the hands, he pushed his fingers towards his face, feeling against his eyes, hoping they were there.
They were… and slowly, the darkness filling his vision started to vanish, letting lights and colours back in. People were everywhere, and from the black dots in their arms, Luke assumed a lot of them had cameras. He could vaguely see someone dressed in a black outfit with cables all over it near his moped and…
Is that Shrapnel? The teen looked like charcoal, and Luke meant that in the worst way possible. Although it was quite funny seeing the bedsheet frayed at all ends, even if it meant the proto-villain had been electrocuted.
Electrocuted, huh? That felt like an apt reason for why he suddenly felt so shit and temporarily blacked out. There was also a woman next to him wearing the classic neon green of medical responders. She was grasping at his wrist, probably trying to check for a pulse with one hand and pushing him down with another very gently.
She was also saying something to hear that looked from her lips like “don’t move”
She’s also really cute. Maybe he should ask for her number. When Luke tried, his tongue felt a lot heavier than normal, so whatever he was saying was probably slurred. The cashier made a mental note to ask for her number when he could speak properly.
“Ca… yo…”
As his hearing slowly started returning, the lingering pain started to subside as well, leaving a shadow of aches all over his body. Luke felt dizzy as the constant ringing in his ears was slowly drowned out by the sounds of the world around him.
“Don’t… Hero… Saved…” The cute blonde nurse said, confusing Luke about as much as anything that had happened in the last few minutes.
You look so cute when you're worried for others… you’re a good nurse, I can tell. Luke thought. Then, the nurse paused on whatever area of his body she was checking on and blushed a little.
Did I just say that aloud? He did feel his mouth moving.
“Don’t worry… you… concussed,” the nurse with beautiful blue assured him.
I don’t feel concussed, but my brain is kind of not working straight. It’s doing loop-de-loops. Like a rollercoaster. Man, I love roller-
Oh god, he was concussed. That was why he felt so delirious and kept noticing all the pretty features on the nurse's face. His brain wasn’t thinking properly, which left other parts of his body to think in its stead.
He tried not to speak and just breathe, letting thoughts filter through his brain instead of his mouth as he stared up at the sky. It was dimming now, but it was still brighter than usual.
After a few minutes of the nurse checking up on him and asking about pain in every area of his body, she let him move around and sit up straight.
“You were struck by one of Darkspark’s bolts when he was combatting your attacker.” The nurse, Julie, informed him when he finally mustered up the energy to ask what had happened.
“And that gave me a concussion?” Luke asked, resting his head against the brick wall.
“No, the…” The nurse paused and looked over a Bedsheet. “...Villain spasmed and shunted you into the asphalt.”
Luke's eyes were stuck to the superhero posing for the camera crew who must’ve been following him around. It looked like he was either dressing down the Shrapnel or giving him life advice. Darkspark, if he recalled correctly, was a reasonably respected start-up Supe who had made his name by championing electricians' union rights. A bit unorthodox but a savvy marketing move considering he had his own camera crew now.
You’d think he’d come check on the normal dude he fried. But no, Luke was a background character in charade. He was a victim and not worth much more than a couple of insincere sympathies. What pissed him off even more was knowing that Shrapnel wasn’t even a genuine threat.
A few more seconds of discomfort for the teen's video, and he would’ve been on his way. Maybe, just maybe, he would’ve been able to see the ending of Project Prodigy.
As if on cue, the superhero looked over in his direction and started marching towards Luke. There was a certain bravado to his step that pissed Luke off far more than anything Shrapnel had done.
“How are things over here?” the Supe said through his coiled mask, which conveniently left his long curly brown hair exposed. “I hope Julie here’s been treating you well after that little shock.”
He flashed a smile that was definitely more for the cameras than Luke.
When the cashier stayed silent, Julie took it upon herself to brief the superhero.
“Besides the concussion and minor bruising, Luke’s alright, but a head injury still falls under skirmish insurance. He should be sent to Hygeia, just to safe.”
Luke could’ve sworn he heard Darkspark click his tongue, but maybe he was still concussed because the Supe was all smiles a moment later. He seemed to take a moment to assess the situation and the cameras before offering a hand to Luke, who was still leaning against the brick wall.
“Let’s get you up, Luke,” Darkspark said through a smile.
It’s all for him. Luke didn’t consider himself a very suspicious person. Well, not a paranoid person. But he’d watched the Supe game as a spectator long enough to know a lot of it was bullshit. A lot of Supes were bullshit. Case in point: Darkspark.
He’s turning me into a spectacle. Luke thought, taking the hand. Darkspark pulled him up with ease, and the cashier wobbled on his feet for a moment before he got his balance. I’m just a part of his own fantasy.
Luke didn’t think like this normally. He knew that. He was normally much more… optimistic about these things. Normally, much more accepting. But today had gone a little too wrong, the last thirty minutes especially.
Suddenly, all the optimism in the world wouldn’t let Luke ignore people like Darkspark and how they bugged him.
Maybe I hit my head a little too hard. He wondered as Darkspark wrapped a hand around his shoulder and faced him towards the cameramen, jerry-rigging a comically big lens.
It was all kind of funny in a way, the absurdity of it.
And it all deeply bugged Luke.
“Just a few smiles for the camera, Luke,” Darkspark whispered into his ear. “Then we’ll get you all fixed up, champ. Might even end up with a couple thousand from insurance.”
There was such a layer of condescension in the superhero’s voice that it snapped Luke out of a daze he hadn’t even realised he was in.
Why am I just going along with this? Was it because Darkspark was a superhero? Had it been because Shrapnel was a villain? Did he really just heed them because they had powers? Did that somehow make them that much better than him? Suddenly, Luke knew exactly what bugged him.
Because he wasn’t bugged, he was angry.
“Can I have the keys to my moped?” Luke asked in the flattest voice he could manage.
“What do you-”
“The keys and my wallet that he stole,” Luke said plainly, pointing towards where Shrapnel was sulking. “Can I have them back?”
There was something deeply satisfying about watching Darkspark’s facade grind to a halt for a moment as his brain processed that things weren’t going exactly according to plan. It was like he lived in his own little world and was suddenly thrust back to the reality that people could think for themselves.
“Absolutely,” Darkspark said after a moment, returning fluidly back to his world again. He gestured at one of the cameramen working on a microphone. “Greg, the stuff that was on the kid.”
Greg pulled a familiar jingling pair of keys and a wallet out of his pocket, tossing both to Darkspark, who then handed them to Luke with that fake smile on his face. Which promptly disappeared when Luke lightly pushed his arm off his shoulder and then spun on his feet, heading towards his moped. His scratched moped.
“Thanks,” Luke said, waving the hero off as he hopped on his moped.
“Ah- where are you going?” Darkspark asked, a little confusion in his voice seeping through. He was still smiling, but Luke liked to imagine that behind those goggles, his eyes weren’t.
“Home,” Luke said simply, twisting the key in the ignition.
“But don’t you want to-”
And before Darkspark could finish, he was off.
That was good. Luke hadn’t done much to Darkspark for being the cherry on top of his already shitty day but he had inconvenienced him. Just a little. Maybe made him slip character for a little bit on his recording.
Which will be chopped up into only the best pieces of action and personality. Anything bad would never see the light of day. There was a reason superheroes never did anything live. Still, as Luke crawled along in traffic towards his apartment, he couldn’t deny that the little act made him feel good.
It was barely even defiance. More like just doing what I wanted. And it made another bad day just a little bit better. Maybe I should… no, maybe not.
He knew he shouldn’t make a habit of pissing off people with superpowers. That wasn’t good for one’s health.
*************
“Home sweet home,” Luke mumbled, twisting the key to his apartment door.
The familiar sight of his one-bedroom apartment greeted him, the same as he’d left it. Luke stumbled into the white walls he called home, walking past a very empty kitchen and tossing his bag onto the couch as he entered the bathroom. It had become a ritual of his to take a shower after every workday.
Hot water hitting his face felt like a good reward after dealing with the afternoon's events, and Luke decided to ignore the notifications on his phone until he was well and truly clean. Once he’d well and truly steamed off his stress, Luke made his best attempt at shaving.
Normal people do this in the morning. But night worked better for Luke. If he cut himself, it would heal enough by morning to not bug him. He spent more time than he’d like to admit pushing his messy blonde hair out of the way of his electric shaver and being a little hypercritical of how his body looked.
“It’s a tall thing.” Luke lied to himself. “I look so skinny because I’m just tall.”
Not because his diet consisted of things he could heat up in a microwave. He grabbed one of those preheated meals and settled into the most comfy corner of the couch, flicking on the TV. Venus City News channel was busy interviewing a nervous-looking superhero who had the “save of the day” this Bright.
“So you call yourself… H? Like the letter?” Mindy Craw, the evilest anchor to ever live asked, clearly unimpressed.
“Yes, I thought of it in the heat of the moment.” The young woman replied, rubbing her head sheepishly.
“And does that ‘H’ stand for anything, hmmm?” Mindy asked, digging further.
“I’d like to think it stands for hope.” The young lady said earnestly.
“Not ‘Hero’?”
“Well, no, I mean yes but-”
Luke's phone buzzed in his bag as he stuffed a mouthful of pasta into his mouth. He gulped it down and turned down the TV, not keen to see the young hero walk through the minefield that was Mindy Craw, Venus City News’s anchor. A familiar name popped up with a text.
Did you end up making it to the Prodigy Project? - from Winter ^.^
Got robbed on the way - from Luke
“Should I feel bad for lying to Reggie after he gave me the day off?” Luke wondered, watching the bubbles decide what they wanted to say to him.
When Luke said he didn’t have friends, he wasn’t telling a complete lie, but he wasn’t telling the whole truth, either. He hadn’t managed to keep any relationships he’d made through school, which ended at eighteen if you didn’t have money or superpowers. Sure, Luke had tried to keep those relationships going, but most people he knew diluted their friend circles to those in the same college as them.
And since Luke wasn’t going to any college, friendships slowly dwindled to none. None besides Winter, at least.
Wat you going to do now then? Game??? - Winter ^.^
Luke must’ve been fourteen or fifteen when he stumbled upon Winter on a random superhero forum thread. He distinctly remembered only private messaging them so he could argue who was the stronger superhero between Oblivion and Finite. An odd place to bud an almost decade-long friendship, to say the least.
But when his more real friendships had begun to fade away, Winter stayed a small buzz on his phone. Always there to talk about whatever superhero was popular or what new video game was overrated. Simple things that had nothing to do with either of their personal lives, yet a big part of what kept Luke’s sanity afloat.
He’d never met Winter. He didn’t know their name. Hell, he had no clue if they were a he or a she, and it didn’t matter. They were his friend, and Luke valued them more than they probably knew.
And with that said…
Nah, gonna get drunk and watch reruns - From Luke
Tonight was not the night. Too many things had gone wrong, and Luke was in a foul mood. He wasn’t keen to spread that to others.
No worries, just be careful. Don’t do anything stupid like last time - Winter ^.^
“Roger that,” Luke said with a mock salute, dropping his phone onto the couch.
His main priority was to forget about the day. So with that in mind, Luke stretched upwards and started walking over to his cooler-
Wait a minute. Instead of walking over to his cooler, Luke sat back down on the couch and ripped his backpack open, retrieving a crisp can of Bitter Buzz. Despite the beating his backpack had taken today, the can was unblemished and in perfect condition.
“Prodigy creations, tough as always,” Luke whispered to himself, inspecting the can’s description.
It stated in big, bold letters that it was intended for Supes with above-human levels of metabolisation and was recommended in small, frequent doses. Just looking at the alcohol percentage gave Luke the shivers. But it was only one and he had already lied once to his manager who gave him a free day off.
It wasn’t Reggie’s fault that it went so south. His manager had been trying to be nice. Guess this one’s for you, Reggie. Luke thought, cracking the can open and having a taste. The name was correct because it was bitter as hell, but Luke hadn’t expected the bubbling sensation that slid down his throat.
How carbonated is this thing? It was like the stuff turned to foam the moment it made contact with his skin. Strange and nothing like all the regular drinks he had in his cooler. Luke sipped on his Bitter Buzz and fell deeper into his couch. His TV played reruns of superhero shows that just served as background noise to not leave Luke completely alone with his thoughts.
“Hey, don’t judge me,” Luke mumbled to nobody at all. “You’d do the same if you’d had the same day I had.”
When the emptiness of his apartment didn’t reply, Luke grumbled and went back to drinking. He did that sometimes. Talked out loud as if people were watching him. The cashier had thought he was going batshit crazy when he’d started to make a conscious effort not to and then still kept doing it, but his doctor told him not to worry.
A side effect of his parents being frozen in time by alien horrors beyond comprehension was a condition called FPS. Fourth-Person Syndrome. Apparently, it had to do with his genes evolving to try and comprehend the fourth dimension or something like that. Lots of big words Luke’s not-so-sober brain couldn’t pin together right.
The TV kept blurring away in the background as Luke finished the can, tossing it away and sinking further into his mind than he would’ve liked.
Don’t I think I deserve more excitement?
What a dumb question.
“Of course I do!” Luke grumbled. “But… thinking I deserve something like excitement in my life is greedy, isn’t it?”
There were ways he could get more excitement in his life if he tried hard enough. The world wasn’t boring; that was just his life. There was excitement to be found even if he didn’t get the powers he always wanted. Even if he didn’t have anyone to share it with. Even if it cost him more than he’d be willing to part with.
It was out there in the world. Hell, he lived in a world with superheroes. How could it not be exciting?
This afternoon wasn’t very exciting.
Perhaps that was just a coincidence. Perhaps it was simply the disappointing reality of something as impressive as superpowers. Luke could conceptualize in his mind that the whole culture of Super-enabled heroes and villains was simply a pretext for training, funding and praising those who had the power to protect them from the Echos.
And the Swarm.
And every other kind of evil that lurked on the cold dead earth between Globes.
But he couldn’t say he wasn’t disappointed. Because it was all so… boring, even when it shouldn’t have been. Creating and controlling electricity should’ve been amazing, but Darkspark made it look incredibly dull. Mundane.
Shrapnel… had potential. The kid’s just gotta figure out his identity. Unfortunately, he’d probably just turn into another marketing slave. Money tended to sway people towards the less cool paths in life. Like being an actual supervillain.
A real one.
The world had real, dangerous individuals with superpowers, but none of them were flashy in the kind of way Luke had always envisioned. The real ones were more psychotic maniacs who presented danger to everyone around them. Close to what Luke wanted from a supervillain, but also just one facet of what made one great.
“A real supervillain would be cool, don’t ya think?” Luke said wistfully. “If I got held up by a guy in a suit with a big red button that might blow up the world, that would be exciting, wouldn’t it?”
But that didn’t exist, and he was just talking to himself. It wasn’t like the universe could hear; it wasn’t like anyone could.
Slowly, that realisation settled in Luke as the last remnants of alcohol settled in his stomach. He felt sleepy, and it was getting harder to think. All the stress from the day had caught up to him.
Why does my life make me angry?
Was it the boredom? Was it the lack of stimulation? Was it the constant bowing of his head towards others just because they were luckier than him? No. But also, yes. Luke felt like the slow drain of them all just kept building that anger in his heart. Again and again and again. Over and over and over.
And when that anger had nowhere to go, it made him feel something even worse.
Will tonight be one of those nights? The cashier wondered.
A night where he regretted all the people he’d pushed away. All the horrible things he’d said to his sister when she beat the odds and he didn’t. All the bad choices he’d made that had left his life spiralling. Would tonight be one of those nights where the small good in his life didn’t distract him from the haunting weight of the fact that he wasn’t happy?
A night where I close my eyes…
…And wish desperately that he didn’t wake up.
…
…
“I just want something else,” Luke said quietly to himself. “It doesn’t have to be special. I just want something else in my life. Something good. Something of my own.”
An answer to the question he constantly asked himself: was it all even worth it?
It could be a new friend, it could be a promotion. It could even be going out for a drink with Reggie and sharing something with someone. Luke didn’t care.
His eyes felt heavy. The world started to get darker.
Luke could feel the weight of his worries slowly plunging him into sleep, but he didn’t feel a need to wish for… for nothing when he woke up.
Maybe for today, I don’t need to want for nothingness when I wake.
As his consciousness fell into the recesses of sleep on his cheap couch, Luke felt one last lingering thought trail across his mindscape. A positive one. A hopeful one.
Maybe… It’s okay for me to wish for more, just for today.
Sleep took him before he could decide what he truly wanted, leaving a snoring twenty-year-old mass. Too drunk to be awoken. Even when the bubbles in his stomach started scattering in his body.
Even when a little screen just for him popped into existence.
[System interface loading]
[Host’s innate abilities unsuitable for {System Seven}]
[Waiting for creator's response]
[Respond?]