Luke blinked his sleep-filled eyes awake.
His vision shifted from stars and darkness to something much more mundane. White walls and phosphorate light surrounded him, along with beeping machinery. The smell of disinfectant drowned out all other aromas. Dusk light shone in from the window, painting the whole room in an amber glow.
The whole hospital room.
I feel numb.
The softness of the sheets on his bed and the small itch from the tube sticking out his forearm were the only sensations he could register. Everything else felt distant like a thin wrap of plastic was separating his body from the world. Nothing like the nausea he felt before he collapsed.
It’s hard to remember.
His head felt groggy. Shrouded. If Luke had to take a guess he’d blame whatever painkiller medication was making the whole world feel distant. He remembered falling. He remembered being stressed about something. Something rather…
“..The Thinker,” Luke mumbled, touching his head instinctively.
That had been the most prominent thing on his mind before he had his little medical emergency. What had even happened? What felt like a bad hangover for hours had turned into more like a seizure in minutes. Luke had never experienced anything like he had felt in those final few moments. It felt like he had been poisoned.
The hallucinations towards his collapse felt the easiest to explain. That was the domain of Thinkers, in the mind. Luke did not doubt that he’d met one yesterday and that they had planted whatever those red words were in his head. Everything was lining up too smoothly.
But then the question became, was what happened an attempt at his life?
Even Luke’s foggy brain tensed at the thought. Stressed was one word to describe what he felt. Scared might’ve been more accurate.
The cashier laid back on the soft sheets, staring at the ceiling, pondering. He was safe, at least for the moment. Only idiots attacked hospitals.
Why does this stuff keep happening to me? Luke was going on a string on very unlucky days. And for some reason, he felt like it was only going to continue. Whatever. If he just kept his head down everything should blow over. Everything he needed from the hospital would be covered by his job. One of the few benefits of working at Super-mart. The doctors would do their job, he would get better and probably get a stipend for a therapist.
He really, really needed one.
Speaking of doctors, where are they? He lowered his head, scanning the room for any sign of a clipboard carrying lab coats-
Luke felt his face scrunch in annoyance.
“Why are you here?” Luke said, staring at the figure idly playing with her phone in the corner.
If his baseball jacket or his baseball cap didn’t give her away immediately, their shared blonde hair and her complete contempt, when she looked back at him, would’ve. Lucy only gave him a few seconds of attention before going back to her phone.
“Emergency contact, dude.” She said, gesturing to the room around them. “Your emergency equals us being forced into the same room.”
It was the same as he remembered. Half a year and zero had changed about her. Lucy still turned everything into his fault.
What kind of sister would she be if she didn’t?
That window looks really nice right about now. Luke resisted the urge. Jumping several stories was just ever so worse than dealing with his sister.
“My apologies for collapsing at work,” Luke grumbled with as much sarcasm as he could muster. “Didn’t mean to inconvenience you.”
His sister just shrugged.
“It’s alright, Mum and Dad would be mad at me if I didn’t show up.” She said, unbothered by his sarcasm.
“Mum and Dad are dead,” Luke said flatly. He did not wish to have this argument again.
Lucy paused and there was a silence between them. A deep, distant silence.
“That’s what you want to think,” Lucy whispered, staring intensely at her phone and whatever game she rapidly tapped.
Let's go find the doctor. In a different room. Luke thought, lifting his feet to check his legs still worked. They did, appearing from the sheets and looking close enough to what they had in the morning. Maybe a little paler but nothing to worry about. With a strong swing of the moment and his hips, he managed to swing both legs over.
His feet felt cold against the hospital but were more than capable of supporting the weight he put on them. That was good. At least he could walk around and away from the annoying superhero who didn’t know how to mind her own business.
“The doctor said it was best if you didn’t move around.” Lucy chirped from behind her phone.
It's a good thing the doctor’s not here. The numbness made standing up a bit odd. He could balance his feet, but he could barely feel them. Only the cold floor gave his body any sensation. Luke stepped forward past the bed, briefly caught staring at the dusk sky and the neon city lights flaring to life outside.
He wasn’t used to being in the city centre when the lights started waking up. It was pretty. To say the least. While he was no fan of the advertisements shoved down people's faces the colour had a certain beauty to it.
All those colours blended reminded him of the dream.
The dream. His dream. The one with a whole lot of blinding lights trying to burn him to death. Calling it weird was probably downplaying it. Luke had explored many strange dreams in his life but that dream was weird. All of it felt so real. So vibrant.
And the tree, it felt so familiar. So-
[Congratulations, you have unlocked the Quest function!]
Luke grabbed at his eyes as they burned for a brief moment, blinking them open only to see glowing red words floating in front of his face. The same ones he vaguely recalled hallucinating before just before he passed out. Only this time it didn’t make him collapse.
Only wobble.
“You sure you’re healthy enough to walk?” Lucy asked, eyeing his shaky legs.
“I don’t think my legs are the unhealthy part,” Luke said, half to her and half to himself, gazing at the glowing red words.
They hovered in the air, about a metre from him, hanging over the hazard disposal. Luke's eyes wandered towards Lucy, studying her for a moment. She didn’t even glance at the words hanging in the air. He felt an urge to ask, but held his tongue. His sister would freak out if she heard he was seeing things.
Things that Luke wasn’t sure were there.
I wonder…
The cashier reached out towards them, pressing his fingertips against them. Tiny jolts of something rumbled back through them, involuntarily causing his finger to twitch. Then the words fizzled out of existence. There was no warning or sound, his touch simply evaporated them like they were nothing.
Are they real… or am I that far over the edge?
His eyes started to burn, just a little bit this time as new words engraved themselves into the air.
[Error: Quest function requires fully matured Causal Roots]
[Remedy: Principality must be established for Casual Roots form]
[Error: Principality unclear]
“Hey, Loony,” Luke said as his mind wandered. “Do you know what a Principality is?”
His sister's head turned fully this time, hearing her nickname.
“As in the kingdom kind?” Lucy asked, seemingly curious about Luke’s dilemma. “Or the deity kind?”
I hope neither. Because he did not have any sort of kingdom, and he was most certainly not a deity.
I am, however, most definitely insane. FPS was just the appetiser and this is the full-course meal.
The door behind him slid open before he could contemplate that thought further, giving way to an older gentleman. He wore a fancy shirt and tie with a white coat over it and shoes that looked expensive to Luke. What stood out more than that or his greying head of hair were the deep bags under his eyes. Tiny pits where sleep went to die its final death.
The doctor waved at the two of them and shifted past Luke carefully, plucking a clipboard left on the bench next to the bed. He scanned it in silence then turned to them, noticeably apprehensive to look in his sister’s direction.
“Dr Lee.” The older man said, extending a hand to Luke.
“Luke Welter.” The cashier replied, taking the hand.
“Yes, I know. It caused quite a stir downstairs when Cure-Re-Gen’s very own twin brother was wheeled in.” Dr Lee said with a smile, refusing to look in Lucy’s direction. “You're a curious case, that’s for sure. But I still don’t think standing is the best idea.”
Dr Lee gestured towards the bed and Luke heeded the doctor’s order, scooting his butt onto the bed. The glowing red words didn’t follow him as he moved away from them, hovering where they were behind the wall and Dr’s head.
Are they static? Luke wondered, before catching himself. Giving depth to delusion was not the thing to do.
“Did something on the wall catch your interest?” Dr Lee asked, catching him staring at what must’ve been a blank wall to everyone else.
“My mind’s just wandering.” Luke deflected, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Yes, I can imagine why. I’m sure it must’ve been confronting waking up in a hospital.” Dr Lee nodded, scribbling something onto the clipboard. “Now, firstly I’d like to give you the good news.”
“There’s bad news?” Lucy asked from the side, peaking her head up from her phone. “I thought you said he’d be fine after the transfusion?”
“Transfusion?” Luke asked, equally as confused, although for separate reasons.
The doctor looked between Luke and Lucy, seemingly trying to decide which was more important to answer before replying. Funnily enough, it wasn’t the Supe. “Cure-R- I mean, Ms Welter makes regular blood donations because of its unique healing properties. It is helpful in stabilising cases like yours.”
Luke shot Lucy a questioning look. “You gave me blood?”
Lucy tucked in on herself, whispering something so soft the cashier could barely make it. “You…”
“I can’t hear you.” Luke pressed, more than a little curious why Lucy of all people would go out of their way to give him blood.
“You were going to die!” Lucy said angrily when he pressed her, sending a hateful look at both him and Dr Lee. “Is it that surprising? That I don’t want my brother to die. Stars above, I can’t believe the same people raised us.” She stood towering over the doctor and standing toe to toe with Luke. “Tell him what you told me, doctor. All of it.”
“That might be a little alarming for someone-”
“If I am dying, I would like to hear about it right now.” Luke interrupted the doctor. “Regardless of how alarming it might be.”
How the hell am I dying? And did his sister’s blood prevent that or merely delay it? Questions started to swirl in his head as paranoia infiltrated him again. The attention he’d been giving to the glowing red words and what was likely the Thinker behind them evaporated. Under the threat of his life, none of that seemed very important at all.
I’ll ask about the Thinker later. It could wait if his boss hadn’t already informed the medical services about it.
The doctor glanced between them nervously for a moment then spoke. “Well, your condition showed… physical abnormalities. At first, we thought it was Thinker induced pertaining to what you reported to your workplace. But our resident Thinker couldn’t find any sign of mental intrusion or modification.”
So it wasn’t a Thinker? That didn’t make much sense to him but another Thinker would know more about them than himself. Then again, how believable was that. The hallucinations were a telltale sign of Thinker influence.
“There were no underlying injuries, illness or signs that explained your symptoms.” Dr Lee explained before pausing. “Speaking of which, are you still experiencing any adverse effects?”
Luke thought for a moment.
“Besides numbness…” And seeing random words of doom. “...no.”
“That’s a welcome development, although I fear it might be only temporary.” Dr Lee muttered, glancing at Lucy. “Once we concluded it was not a physical issue in the broad sense, our resident specialists in less physical illnesses discovered something rather concerning.”
Definitely not a hangover. He hadn’t thought it was since the moment he woke up in hospital but it was still not nice to hear. What exactly could a non-physical illness be? What was concerning about him in the non-physical sense? The room felt like it was getting hotter already.
“What’s so concerning?” Luke asked, trying not to look at the glowing red words hovering behind Doctor Lee’s head.
“You show signs of having developed Ether mutations.” The doctor said with what sounded like some semblance of sympathy.
Which did not make Luke feel better.
“What the hell is that?”
“In most, it’s simply a by-product of the age we live in.” Dr Lee stated plainly. “In your case, specialists like myself can only think of two possibilities. Hence the good news and the bad news.”
“You said my blood had solved any issues,” Lucy complained.
Did they mislead her to keep her happy? Or to keep her from freaking out? Luke knew his sister wouldn’t do that, regardless of how many immature stunts she tended to pull in the public eye. She liked attention but she wasn’t nearly as psychotic as media sources tended to try and make him think she was on his social media feeds.
Then again, a super-powered nigh unkillable woman with the ability to supercharge the cells in her own body was fairly intimidating. If anyone was truly crazy enough to try and kill him in a hospital, Lucy would make their stay far more permanent. Poor Dr Lee was just caught in the crossfire.
Whatever the case, clearly the problem wasn’t solved or the doctor wouldn’t be wearing such a grim expression.
“Yes well, we believed that at the time.” Dr Lee hurriedly agreed. “But after further consultation with specialists in other Globes… we’ve had to revise that estimation.”
“Explain,” Lucy demanded.
“To be frank, the transfusion was far more effective than we anticipated. To the point that it was a little alarming.” Dr Lee said quickly. “We thought it was simply due to you two being twins and your genetic similarities. We were wrong. Your blood simply responded to the reaction manifesting inside your brother’s body. It so rapidly dulled the symptoms that we believed it had cured him completely.”
Dr Lee kicked his foot before either of them could say anything. Hard. But Luke only knew it was hard from the sound it made, because he didn’t feel it at all. Not even one bit.
“But we were wrong. It has only delayed the reaction temporarily.” Dr Lee explained, emphasising by kicking his foot again. “We didn’t give you pain medicine Luke.”
“What kind of reaction is going on in my body then,” Luke asked, massaging his foot to see if he could convince it to feel pain.
“That’s the good news and the bad news.” Dr Lee said. “Which do you want first.”
“Bad.” Said Lucy.
“Good.” Said Luke.
There were enough shitty things all spinning around him at the moment. A little good news couldn’t hurt. If it was actually good news, although somehow he heavily doubted that. Nothing seemed to be going right. Everything was spiralling out of control.
He just wanted to go home.
Dr Lee once again looked nervously between the two of them before picking his patient over the overbearing Supe.
“There’s a high chance you're about to have an Exodus.” Dr Lee said calmly. “Which should be surprising in some circumstances but considering your sister…”
Exodus.
The doctor's words trailed off into the white noise slowly building up in Luke’s mind just hearing that word. That wasn’t supposed to be a word associated with him. He wasn’t supposed to ever hear a sentence like that.
Exodus.
There was no chance. None at all. Powers were reserved for the lucky and Luke had never been even close to it. It was something everyone craved. But it wasn’t meant for everyone, least of all him.
Exodus.
His sister was just as surprised as him, peppering the doctor with questions. Even if they were related. Even if they were twins. Luke had been told multiple times that it made no difference to his chances. Lucy’s Exodus was a freak occurrence. Not something that came from what they shared biologically.
Exodus.
Was he allowed to have one? Really? The words. Luke could barely resist staring at them. Were they… were they real? They felt real, in some regard. They reacted to him in a way that felt like superpowers should.
Exodus
His heart beat quickened. His throat tightened as it suddenly became harder to breathe. His eyes stayed fixed on the floating red words.
“You’re lying.”
“I promise I wouldn’t tell you if it wasn’t a distinct possibility.” The doctor said, dismissing Luke’s words. “But one of two possible outcomes.”
“And the other outcome is the bad news,” Lucy said, managing as always to remind him that life got worse instead of better. Always there to rain on his parade.
Once again the doctor was hesitant to answer, stealing looks at his clipboard which he’d already thoroughly examined.
“As I’m sure you’re both aware Taken are more or less intolerant to the Exodus process. There is a chance the Ether mutations inside you are…” The doctor paused, trying to find a nice way to phrase his next words. Luke could tell but the pity in his eyes. “... poisoning you. Rapidly.”
There was silence. The excitement Luke had felt mere moments ago died in his heart as a slow creeping fear crept into him. Dr Lee’s unsteady gaze, almost unwilling to look Luke in the eyes, spoke volumes to him of the severity of this poisoning really presented. Poisoning was just a nice way of saying killing. Luke could tell.
The Ether mutation was killing him rapidly.
That was the writing on the walls. Good came with bad. There was a chance he’d get superpowers like he’d always dreamed of. Or he’d die. There was no in-between. Luke could feel it.
Lucy was less accepting.
“So what can we do about that then?” She said, staring down the poor doctor. “If he doesn’t have an Exodus.”
There was a deep, uncomfortable silence before Dr Lee spoke with a heavy, sombre tone.
“Make him comfortable.”
The look Lucy gave him would’ve given even the bravest men a heart attack. “What do you mean make him comfortable?!”
I’m going to die. Luke could feel it. There was no chance he was going to be lucky this time. He was going to die. There was a sudden urge to grip his bed sheets for warmth, but there was no warmth. Only numbness. Empty numbness that coated him.
He stood.
Dr Lee dropped his clipboard startled by his patient's sudden movement.
“I need to leave,” Luke muttered, feeling an overwhelming sense of dread overtake him. He couldn’t be here. If he was dying, then this was wasting his time.
He didn’t have time to waste.
“Lukas, I think you're just in a bit of a panic-”
The doctor's words were cut short when Luke seized him by his shoulders, grasping them hard enough to get his point across.
“Where are my things.” Luke reiterated. The urge to leave was sudden and violent. He felt like every second ticking away was a second he desperately needed.
It didn’t make sense. Luke had never been one to panic like he felt now. But the walls were closing in. He could feel them, the alabaster white slowly encasing him like a coffin. He couldn’t die in this hospital. He didn’t want to die in this hospital.
When the doctor didn’t answer him quickly enough the cashier started trying to shake the answer out of him, before Lucy put a firm hand on his forearm. It wasn’t enough to hurt but Luke could feel that no amount of his strength would move the weight.
“Luke.” His sister said, staring him down. There was a rage of emotions behind her eyes. “You need to calm down. We’ll fix this. I’m not just going to let you-”
“Die?” Luke spat. “Are you going to lie to yourself about me too? Just like you do about mum and dad?”
Lucy bit her lip as she took a step back from him. Like his words had slapped her in her face. His sister's yellow eyes quivered and starred at him with such… such horror. It was like a terrible mixture of fear and grief along with disappointment at the thing in front of her. The thing that couldn’t be her brother.
Because brothers didn’t say such horrid things. But Luke had, twice now. The regret immediately welled in the pits of his being and the thought of death suddenly seemed a little more fitting. Sometimes he was a horrible person. To make his sister sit there, dealing with the potential death of her only living relative. Then throw it in her face.
Try to make her feel worse than she already did. Just because she still held onto the hope their parents were alive. Just because she’d gotten powers instead of him. Just because she wasn’t going to die.
Lucy was struggling not to cry, holding her hands at her sides and waiting for him to say something else.
I’m terrible. Luke realised. I’m a terrible brother. I’m a terrible person. She doesn’t deserve this.
She had come to help him. Why did he hold it against her? A little piece of the fight to live died inside Luke the moment he realised the answer.
“I’m sorry,” Luke said, trying to stumble an apology together. “I’m not in my right mind, I just-”
“You what?” Lucy said, her voice so much smaller. “You just said what you were thinking?”
“No, you-”
“No, you! You don’t get to hold me still having hope against me!” Lucy yelled. “Why do you always do this? Why can’t we just…”
…Be a family. That was what she had said the last time he’d blown up at her. When she’d gotten her superpowers. Why couldn’t he just be a good brother, because she was always a good sister? There always something that got between them. Like they were born oil and water.
Forever at odds.
But Luke didn’t want to be at odds.
It’s too much. He realised, sight narrowing in on the exit.
It’s all too much. He wanted to have a happy family. He wanted to live.
But none of that was going to happen.
So instead of facing all the terrifying problems in front of him, Luke ran. He sprinted out the door, uncaring for his illness or the pleas of Lucy and the doctor behind him. Find his things. Find his moped. And run.
Far away from all of this.
**************
“Why did I do that?” Luke said to no one at all, stumbling through a dimly lit street towards his apartment.
How he ended up there was half a mystery to him, fogged by a constant gnawing in his head that refused to leave. He knew that he’d somehow gotten his clothes back, and the keys to his moped. He also knew that somewhere along the line that piece of shit had broken down. Then he was struggling to walk down an empty street.
In one of the worst neighbourhoods. His neighbourhood.
His feet weren’t numb anymore. Somewhere along the way, the pain had settled in past that fog and now it felt like ants were eating the bottom of his heels. A strange pain, but Luke wasn’t surprised by the strange anymore.
“Just a little bit further,” Luke mumbled as he stumbled along.
He could see the vague shape of his two-story motel apartment coming into view. The dim vacancy light shining bright to light his way in the darkness. It was a good thing he was so close because he felt terrible.
In every way possible.
I collapsed at my job, I cussed out a customer, I found out I’m dying and I… Luke felt something well in his throat when he thought of Lucy. At the time dying had felt like a fair excuse, now it just felt as vapid as his only blood relationship. She had been so worried about him in her own way. He knew that.
So why was he such an idiot?
The guilt hurt. It hurt so much.
Luke chose to ignore it like all the other pain, shoving it down and looking forward to the little good he had left in this world. His apartment was filled with plenty of things to make the little pains easier and Winter to make him feel like he wasn’t completely alone in the world.
Maybe I’ll just go to bed. Luke thought, eyes wandering to the glowing red words floating in front of his face.
[Error: Principality unclear]
“The only thing unclear is why I’m not absolutely hammered,” Luke mumbled, before casting a glance around himself. He was completely alone on the street, surrounded by only the buzz of street lights. “Losing my mind never felt so shit.”
He hopped over the waist-high hedge and into his motel apartment parking lot. Normally his moped would sit neatly in one of the reserved sections, but now? It was ditched on some part of the highway. Luke was sure when he woke up in the morning he’d feel like a moron for leaving it there. But in that moment he would just rather be home than deal with the hassle of wheeling it home if it was even still there.
Every step was enough of a struggle as is.
There was a sound behind him that sounded like feet behind him. It was subtle.
The cashier turned from looking at his empty parking space to look-
Luke felt his head snap back as something hard hit him from behind. He crashed into the ground, tasting metallic rust and asphalt as he tried to breathe. Fiery pain raced through his body from his ankle twisted from the fall, down to his head which somehow felt more dizzy.
Trying to collect himself Luke blinked the blood seeping down his forehead out of his eyes, barely able to see past the bright motel sign and the cars around him. Everything was a blur of motion. Except for the red words.
[Error: Principality unclear]
Not exactly helpful. Luke thought, trying to muster himself up as his hands sprawled out against the asphalt. Whatever had just hit him left a deep numbness on the back of his head and Luke wasn’t keen to get hit again.
There were words as he struggled himself up. It was slow and arduous.
“Don’t get up dude.” Sounded behind him among a constant buzzing in his ears.
Deciding not to take advice from the stranger who’d just slammed him in the back of the head Luke kneeled, slipping a hand in front of his stomach just before a blurry foot impacted it hard enough to send him rolling over the concrete.
The cashier grasped at the ground, trying and failing to breathe as it felt like his lungs were collapsing. A deep numbing burn spread through his body like a virus.
Why does this keep happening to me? Luke wondered as the carpark around him slowly turned into from a fuzzy blur to something more recognisable. Why do things keep going wrong?
Was he being robbed? Luke hadn’t a clue. Every time he’d been robbed it had been in the street and the aggressor hadn’t been very physical.
Was… was it another newbie Supe like Shrapnel?
No that doesn’t make any sense. Why would one be here? At his apartment, waiting for him. Was it about Lucy? Was this one of her Supe nemesis come to find an easy hostage? Was this the Thinker come to finish him off? That last one felt the most likely.
Thinkers tended to cut loose.
A hand grasped the back of his collar and wrenched him up. Luke weakly grabbed at his hand, but the grip was like a vice.
“I told you not to get up dumbass.” His attacker said into his ear. “Why do you Normies never listen.”
“Why are…” Luke paused to spit some blood and dirt. “...doing this? I don’t have anything expensive on me.”
As if on cue he felt a hand slip into his back pocket and take his wallet.
“I’ll be the decider of that.” His attacker mumbled, sounding pleased with himself. “But I ain’t here for your money dude.”
“Then why.”
“You made some Supe look like an idiot on T.V.” The stranger said, dropping him back onto the ground. He waltz around to the front of him giving Luke the first real look at his attacker. He wore black jeans and a black hoodie with a hockey mask, standing over him with an almost casual posture. “Darkspark always struck me as a petty guy, but using my services on a Normie is pretty low even for him.”
It took him a few seconds to remember Darkspark was the superhero he’d left hanging yesterday. That was why this was happening? What the hell even was this?
“What does he even *cough* want.” Luke managed out, feeling a rasp scrap in his throat.
Hockey Mask squatted down in front of him and it almost felt like he was smiling behind his mask. His entire demeanour was so carefree while he was assaulting Luke. It was eerie and infuriating all in one. Acting like this wasn’t a big deal. Like attacking someone was something so usual.
“Just to rough you up, trash your place and steal your shit,” Hockey Mask said, ruffing Luke’s blonde hair like he was some kind of dog. “That sorta thing. Sending a message, ya know?”
Luke laughed. At first a little. Then a bit more. It hurt to chuckle but it felt so worth it. Because all of this, every single part was just so ridiculous. It was all too much.
His chest heaved and waned as he rolled over, feeling the wet blood on the back of his head stain against the asphalt. An empty Globe sky greeted him above. Funny. Too funny. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
This was because of Darkspark of all things. God that was hilarious. So hilarious Luke just wanted to grab ahold of Hockey Mask’s neck and squeeze till he heard a crack.
“Message received, jackass.” The cashier grunted, spitting on his feet. “Now fuck off.”
“If only it were that easy, but I don’t get paid for nothing Normie.” Hockey Mask sighed, sounding almost proud. He got up from his squat and started leisurely strolling towards the stairs to Luke’s apartment. “By the way, I go by Puck if you somehow ever find yourself in the market for some Super muscle.”
Luke reached out a hand, his strength slowly leaving him as he bled onto the asphalt. He wanted to grab Puck by the head and shovel him into the ground until he was nothing but mush. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t move.
He couldn’t do anything.
“Aren’t…” Luke struggled to get the words out. “...aren’t you afraid I’ll come after you.”
Puck paused halfway up the stairs and looked down at him, tilting his head.
“You’re not a threat to me, so no.”
Then he continued up the stairs towards Luke’s apartment, leaving the cashier bleeding in the carpark, staring at the sky like it might lend him a helping hand.
I hate this place.
He could feel something in him resonate with that. Something unfamiliar. Was it rage? Was it fear? Luke couldn’t tell. He just stared at the sky. The inky blackness seemed so welcoming.
If only he had that same abyss in his heart. If only he couldn’t feel it.
If only he wasn’t here.
I just want it all to end.
Again, he felt a pulse deep inside himself. Inside something more illogical than his brain and something more personal than his heart. A soul.
Was it his soul that he felt tugging at him?
It felt like a hand reaching out to him, pressing against his mind.
All his senses were distorted by pain and burning. It felt like parts of him were moulding into something new. Mutating and evolving inside of him.
Luke raised a lofty hand to the sky.
It felt… it felt like he could grasp it.
[System Seven notice!]
[New Class available: Herald of Echo’s]

New class? The red words glowed above him ominously, entwining with this dark new stimulus he felt swirling inside. The sky around him was darkening, the lights going out one after another.
Luke could feel the ground beneath him groaning under the weight of something supernatural.
It wasn’t a hallucination. It wasn’t dizziness or the wound on the back of his head.
Luke could see it now. The darkness made him more lucid than he’d ever felt and he could feel it.
The words were offering power.
No.
Something was reaching out through System Seven. Lending a hand to his plight.
He could hear horns, low and heavy in the distant past, sounding as the dark embraced him.
They sounded like… like death itself.
[Herald of Echo’s:
You have been without them your whole life, shielded by fate from their eyes. Their touch. But now the Echo’s see you, and in you, they see a champion.
A herald.
They wish you to be their favoured son and offer you their blessing and power.
Bring the dark to this world, shatter their little prisons and show the final bastion of man the glorious purpose they struggle so fruitlessly against.
Death. Destruction. Domination.
Those will be your tools to enact the end of man.
This class features spatial, spiritual and metaphysical manipulation abilities, along with a growth path towards something more than human.
*Warning* certain abilities may alter users race
*Addition warning* taking the class will put you at odds with the CREATOR]

He could feel it, like a hand clasped around his shoulder.
Something was behind him. Watching. The red words were merely a vessel, nothing more than a messenger for the creature offering Luke power.
Herald of echoes? Was that the name of his power? Or simply what he would become. Was he having an exodus? It felt like it, in a way. In another, it felt wrong.
The brimming hate he had for Puck, Darkspark and the Thinker and whatever was killing him and the whole world wrapped together into one bundle made just to fuck him over had brought them here.
That hate was an anchor, letting that darkness in.
Power.
Real power. No hallucination. Real genuine power was stemming at his fingertips.
Luke could’ve sworn he saw the sky swirling down towards him as he held his hand up.
Reaching for a vessel.
He wanted power. He had for so long. He could feel the red words waiting silently.
Whatever System Seven was, awaited his answer.
Unlike seemingly everything else in his life, this time Luke had a choice.
I don't remember Exodus’s giving you a choice. He’d scrolled and devoured every account of an Exodus he could get his hands on. None of them ever gave you a choice. He’d never even heard someone propose such a thing.
I should want this. He had all his life.
I should say yes. It would make everything so much simpler.
Life was better with powers.
But.
Will it be better with these powers?
His hesitancy began with the description. It was vague enough to leave some leeway, but as Luke devoured the red words again and again, he found it felt intentional.
A bunch of nice words about being chosen and being gifted were just gift wrapping on top of the ultimately grim description of what he would become. What his powers would make him.
Bringing the dark?
Shattering the prisons of man?
Does that mean the globes? He didn’t want to shatter those. He lived there!
Moreover, constricting himself to becoming a creature solely designed for death, destruction and domination sounded like a horrible life. Luke was absolutely down on life and kinda wanted to maybe murder someone, but what kind of psycho wanted that for their whole life?
Not me.
The final straw was the thing that started all those little seeds of doubt.
And it was rather simple. Sure he hated the world right now. Sure he was curled in pain on a dark night, freshly robbed and bleeding all over the place.
But you know what he hated more.
“Fucking Echoes.” Luke spat, using his hand that raised towards the sky to give it the bird.
His family were Taken. A generation of people stolen from time by creatures who thought they knew better. Luke had seen first-hand the ramifications of what the Echoes wanted.
It had ruined the early years of his life.
It had ruined almost all of his parents' lives.
[Do you wish to decline?]
[Warning: Failure to integrate a Class will have a catastrophic consequence]
“Like I’d ever join up with you bastards,” Luke muttered, giving the final decree.
The effect was immediate. His senses shifted from the possible to simple reality as everything snapped back into place.
The ground no more groaned under his power.
The lights around him didn’t hide in his presence.
The darkness didn’t reach out from above.
Suddenly he was in just as much pain as he had been the moment Puck smacked him on the back of the head. Suddenly, he could hear the distinct sound of things smashing from up those motel stairs, towards his apartment.
But the pain hurt too much to move.
I’ll just stay here for a little. Luke reasoned with himself, feeling his consciousness wane. It was probably from the blood loss.
[Error: Principality unclear]
“Again, not helpful,” Luke mumbled, drifting.
His whole body wasn’t warm anymore. The departure of his potential Exodus had left a deep cold.
It spread through him. Dulling pain, numbing nerves. Offering something.
An escape?
A release?
Death?
That’s what it felt like. The strange affliction and mutation within him was devouring his body. Luke remembered what the doctor said clear as day. If he didn’t have an Exodus. If he didn’t evolve. This… this Ether would be the death of him.
But he was too tired.
“I don't want to.” Luke felt his lips mutter, like a child scared of the dark. “I don’t want to go.”
His eyes were so heavy. He tried to keep them open, but it only delayed the inevitable.
Luke felt consciousness leave him one final time as he stared up those stairs, wondering why he had been chosen to live like this.
His last sight, red words offering him no solace.
Only more questions.
**************
Then Luke woke up.
His thoughts were dazed and drizzled as he tried to pull himself up only to realise too late he was sleeping on his couch. In his frenzy he rolled onto the ground, falling onto the remains of his coffee table.
He felt wood and glass remains stick into his backside, barely able to take in the sight of his wrecked apartment. But strangely, there was no pain.
There was also silence around him. Puck must’ve left quickly because Luke seemed to be alone.
Puck really did a number on this place.
His apartment surrounded him, ruined. His curtains had been ripped, the couch had been burned on its far end, and the TV was smashed.
His poster of Finite, the greatest superhero to ever live, was torn to pieces.
His collection of DVDs was destroyed.
The only thing that seemed to have been spared were his comics, resting on a shelf that was the only piece of furniture left unscathed.
The room smelled too. Like burnt toast.
Looking around himself, in the wreck of his apartment made Luke feel even emptier inside. His home had been hollowed out, and for what?
Almost mechanically, perhaps as a coping mechanism, Luke got himself up and headed to the kitchen. He grabbed a garbage bag from his cabinet that no longer had a door and started hauling anything that was broken into it.
Mugs, figures, and disks routinely fell into the garbage bag.
Why does this happen to me?
Had he done something wrong in his life to deserve this?
Luke had lived almost his entire life Putting up with what the world gave him. He rarely complained and he never tried to purposely make his annoyances someone else’s problem.
So why?
I don't want to think about it. He realised. It felt harrowing to try and unpack everything he felt about the world. He was sure he didn’t want to break it like the red words-
Wait a minute.
Luke paused, holding a piece of a plate he’d made in pottery with his father when he was six.
“They’re gone,” Luke said, turning around himself.
No matter where he looked the words of this System Seven didn’t appear. No error. No offering of a class. Was that like a class from a video game?
Weird. Luke noted, waiting for the red words to pop back into existence. They didn’t. Where they went, the cashier had no clue, but he sure as hell wasn’t missing them. His eyes couldn’t help but linger on his hand, which was not nearly as bloody as it should’ve been.
Curious, Luke touched the back of his head, expecting to feel some blood still caked in his hair. But there was only hair.
Come to think of it… how did I get here?
The last thing he remembered was lying outside in the parking lot. Then he was lying on the couch of his ruined apartment by his lonesome.
Did Bloom bring me in? His supervillain neighbour did have a kind streak in her as of late. It wouldn’t surprise him if she’d decided not to let him freeze to death outside.
“It doesn’t matter,” Luke mumbled, continuing with his cleaning.
He liked it. Cleaning was an easy distraction from the world around him. In a way, it felt like he was fixing some of the destruction that had come his way.
However after four garbage bags full of broken mementos and pieces of his apartment that made it his apartment Luke was drained.
Drained of everything.
Drained of pain.
Of hate.
Of rage.
Of sorrow.
He just felt…
I wonder if Winter’s still awake.
Luke slouched onto the not burnt cushion of his couch and pulled out his phone. He was met with a completely shattered screen.
“And of course that dibshit somehow broke my phone.”
He tossed it onto the ground in frustration before that quickly subsided as well.
Luke sat in the darkness of his shattered apartment, staring at the ground absently. Silence accompanied him as he stared at the ground, praying it would swallow him whole.
“I can’t.”
The cashier gripped his hands to his head, squeezing as hard as he could. Hoping for some feeling. Some pain.
“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…” His voice raised louder and louder, from a low whisper to a steady begging.
I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t. If he had a heart it would be beating like a racehorse. If he had sweat it would be it be dripping from his scalp. If he had to breathe, it would be stolen by the panic.
Luke couldn’t be here. He couldn’t be left alone with his thoughts. There were no distractions his mind could find, no purchase for sanity to cling to. All he could think of was everything that had gone wrong. Everything that just kept going wrong. Over and over again. Like some kind of sick joke.
Emotions stormed in his head like a blaze, absorbing all reason. He kicked the remnants of his coffee table into the wall, but that wasn’t enough. He screamed his lungs out into his hands, but that wasn’t enough.
Hot tears dripped down from his eyes, but even they didn’t make him feel any semblance of peace.
Luke always tried to do the right thing. The honest thing. Somehow he’d ended up here regardless.
Asking himself the same question. A question he didn’t even remember being asked.
“Don’t you think you deserve a little more excitement in life?”
“Yes dammit!” Luke raged. “Who doesn’t think that? Who doesn’t want more? Is that so wrong after all the shit I have to deal with constantly?”
He wasn’t asking for much. He didn’t want money. He didn’t want fame. He didn’t even really want power.
Luke just wanted an outlet.
Something that was his.
Not death. Not destruction. Not domination.
Just something… something… something…
For whatever reason his thoughts wandered towards his encounter with Shrapnel. How positive that was in comparison to the shitstorm that was dealing with Darkspark. Then that thought mingled with the casual apathy of Puck and how off it felt, like he was just doing a job. These images trailed along with all the painful interactions he’d had with Susan.
All of them had one thing in common.
Despite their powers, they all failed.
Because none of them were truly super.
His eyes unconsciously shifted towards the comics, unscathed and stacked high. The heroes and villains had kept him daydreaming for hours on end as a kid. They had filled him with excitement, with desire and with something… something…
Again the words escaped him.
But whatever it was, it ran parallel to what real heroes and villains made him feel.
Susan, a hero, failed to even gain Luke’s trust the way she should. Too busy with her sense of self-importance to make anyone feel anything positive.
Shrapnel, a villain, failed to intimidate Luke the way he should. Perhaps the only failing he was willing to forgive, but he could’ve done better at Shrapnel’s age. He was sure of it.
Darkspark, a hero, failed to inspire Luke the way he was meant to. It was easy to see through the paper-thin persona he wore to whatever egomaniac lay beneath.
And Puck, a villain, failed to interest Luke. Because he wasn’t invested and he wasn’t really a villain. He was just a thug who’d gotten lucky and used that luck to ruin other's lives for money. Even Shrapnel had more of a thing going for him than the casual indifference of Puck.
And all these walking pitfalls in his life had one thing in common.
They disappointed him. They disappointed him so immensely that they killed any of the childish joy that kept Luke interested in the Supe world. That kept him interested in life.
None of them had any of that precious outlet he craved.
The excitement he actually wanted.
None of them were that something…
None of them were…
“...Fun?”
A ghostly voice echoed through the room, tearing Luke from his ruminating.
He tore his head up to the source of the noise only to see static hissing over the TV dimly lighting the TV.
Static coming from the broken TV, with a whole corner of the glass loosely hanging off.
Despite all the crazy things that kept happening to Luke, his heart couldn’t help but skip a beat staring at the broken TV. The way the static moved buzzed in his eyes and danced in his eyes felt almost hypnotic.
“Guess Puck didn’t finish off the TV,” Luke mumbled nervously.
His hands grasp the still-intact remote sitting on the floor, turning it off. The static died in a moment, suspending the room in darkness and silence once more.
I need sleep. And a shower and some good food. He was too tired, too overworked and too close to death for any of this. Hell with his paranoia, if he kept seeing things he might die of shock-
The TV flicked back on, filling the room with buzz and static.
Then it responded.
“I give you the answer you’re looking for and you turn me off?! I swear I’ll climb through this screen and beat your ass right now! Ring style jackass.”
The ghostly voice rang through his apartment once more, emanating from the TV and sounding quite offended. Luke gazed at the TV for a few moments, trying to rack his brain before eventually letting his head just fall in his hands. “Hearing voices can be ticked off my ‘Are you insane’ bingo card.”
“I think your insanity bingo card is already well and truly filled.” The ghostly voice surmised.
Yeah, that’s enough of that. Luke got up before he could hear more delusional rambling in his head. He stepped over the broken coffee table and wrapped his hands around the TV’s power cord, giving it a hard yank. The TV went dark and silence once again returned to the room.
“Thank god-”
The TV flashed back alive with light and buzz. This time without any power. Then the ghostly annoying voice returned.
“If it makes you feel any better, chicks dig crazy guys.”
“No, they don’t,” Luke replied blankly.
He wasn’t really… sure how to continue. The idea to just destroy the TV more popped into his head but at this point, he didn’t want to touch the thing.
“They do if you’re comfortable with restraining orders.”
There’s a whole lot to unpack in that statement. Luke thought as he plopped himself back on the couch, staring at the static. Try as he might to take stock of the situation, the cashier didn’t really have a clue what the hell was going on.
The screen flashed again and the drizzle of black and white static started to fizzle into colour. Shapes and sounds became clearer as the buzz faded to give way to…
Is that a person? It was hard to tell. Hard to distinguish shapes in the blurry colours that slowly moulded together into something clearer.
An image of a masculine figure lounging in the biggest, most rigid chair Luke had ever seen fizzled into the TV screen. The chair was so black that it almost faded into the background without any light, were it not for the glean that reflected off its many edges. It was almost a throne and perfectly fit the mystery man sitting on it.
He was draped in a sleek black overcoat with red lines glowing on its edges, dark military pants and a mask shaped like a V obscuring his features.
“Well…” Luke said with a nervous smirk. “... You have my attention.”
“Why did you reject them?” The figure asked, a blurry image on his TV screen.
“Them?”
The figure pointed up at the sky. “Enemy number uno. The Echoes. They gave you a way out from terminal Ether exposure and you rejected them. Why?”
That had a pretty simple answer.
Because fuck them. But he wasn’t going to let the figure gloss over the whole terminal Ether exposure thing. Nor a gnawing question lurking at the back of his head. He never did figure out how he got up his apartment stairs and inside.
“Am I dead?” Luke asked, far calmer than he should be as he thumbed at himself.
“That’s irrelevant. Answer my question.” The figure said, dismissing him.
“It feels pretty relevant to me.” Luke refuted.
“Technically, no.” The figure finally answered. “But you certainly aren’t alive either”
Well, that blows. Luke wasn’t keen on kicking the bucket just yet.
“Now answer the question, peon”
“I didn’t want to do it. Seemed dull, to be honest.” Luke answered candidly.
There was silence. The masked figure rapped his knuckles against the chair armrest, seemingly chewing over Luke’s answer. Luke was slouching on the couch, slowly contemplating the deeply horrifying reality of his own mortality.
There were so many things left that he had to do. He could die here. He had to at least give his two weeks at work. He had to at least clean his apartment, the real one. He had to at least mend things with his sister.
He had to… he had to…
The figure leaned forward. “I can bring you back you know. I can make you better too. In fact, I want to.”
That sounds foreboding. Luke thought to himself immediately sceptical.
“...How?” The cashier asked.
“Simple really.” The figure said with glee in his ghostly tone, holding out a hand. “We make a deal.”
“What kind of deal?”
“One where we both get what we want.”
“And what do you want?”
“Something super.” The masked figure announced in a grandiose tone. “Just like you.”
Just like… he can read my thoughts. Or he responded to them, which Luke found much more likely. Those thoughts that had been plaguing him since Susan had erupted and festered when Puck smashed the back of his head in. The sheer lack of super in the world was the last straw. Luke could stand living in a super world that treated him the way it had. He could stand living in a non-super one that treated him better.
But a lacklustre, dull world that treated him like crap.
That wasn’t okay.
He wouldn’t stand for it.
A world where superpowers weren’t just mistreated, they were made boring.
Luke couldn't stand the thought. There were good ones out there, like his sister. Good or bad people who treated their powers with respect, but there weren’t many like the ones in his comics.
They were all dead or turned into things so horrible they were expelled from the Globe.
The world needed that back. Luke needed back. Or he needed a better life…
Or…
“I’m listening,” Luke said, leaning forward. He felt a certain sense of eagerness propel him through his anxiety around the masked figure.
Maybe all he needed was to make a deal.
With some hesitancy. Luke told himself, not getting too accepting. He couldn’t let himself get caught up in ideas that weren’t his, especially by this stranger.
“I’m glad I finally got your attention because just like you, I’ve noticed the Gifted of your world has lost a certain…” The figure paused, grasping at the air as if he were grabbing the world he was looking for. “I.T factor. An actor's sense of drama to the stage that you humans all play on. A problem I didn’t possess an answer to until I stumbled across you.”
“So what?” Luke asked. “You think I’m right? That the world does need real superheroes and villains.”
“Yep!” The figure exclaimed ecstatically, before pointing at Luke. “And I think it should be you.”
“You want me?” Luke almost stammered, thumbing himself. “Why?”
“Call it the cosmos aligning, but your idea happened to have reached something that hates the Echoes as much as you do. Your little stunt got my attention, then your idea got me excited.” The masked figure said, standing. “All of this is only possible because of that little virus in your body. If that ain’t fate, I don’t know what is.”
Almost convenient. Everything falling into place so neatly. From the hospital to the System Seven to Puck to now. All of it aligned so well to blossom the ideas in his head that attracted this… whatever the masked figure was. That kind of thing just didn’t happen by accident.
But this guy doesn’t strike me as the type to plan. His demeanour and behaviour gave Luke the impression this was all some whim. A whim with purpose sure, but still just a whim. He didn’t take Luke’s plight seriously because he didn’t care at all. He was just leveraging it to get what he wanted out of Luke.
Which was a…
A super-something.
Which sounded perfect. Too perfect.
Someone did this. Luke was sure of it. Someone put all of it together.
But did it matter?
Because this was what he wanted.
And he didn’t exactly have a choice, from what he’d gathered it was this or death.
“Fine,” Luke muttered standing himself. “What have I got to lose.”
“Brillant! But that’s not how you should be thinking, dear Luke. It’s not what you have to lose…” The masked figure paused dramatically and then took a step forward.
Then another. And another. Until he was so close to the camera that Luke could only see his chest. Then he stepped through the screen and planted a hand on either end of Luke’s broken TV as he crawled out of the screen. It was extremely uncomfortable to watch and made Luke seriously doubt his decision to accept superpowers from a stranger. Then again…
…Don’t all superpowers come from strangers?
Whatever the case the TV screen wobbled back into static as the masked man dusted himself off, smelling of old leather and cinnamon. Luke thought he would’ve felt more confronted seeing the strange sinister man barely a few feet away from him, but after all the odd things that had happened, he felt like he’d started to grow a certain tolerance for it.
The man was his height, which wasn’t small and slightly more robustly built than the lazy cashier.
“...But what you have to gain!” The masked man finished, before holding out his hand.
It hovered in the distance between them.
The cashier considered it for a moment.
Fuck it.
Mustering what little was left of his sense of preservation while shutting up the alarm bell screaming in the back of his head, Luke grasped the hand tight. The masked man grasped tighter. His grip was like a vice and it held onto Luke’s arm when he naturally tried to retract it back.
Something changed.
Luke couldn’t put his finger on where or what it was.
But something intrinsic to himself morphed under the will of the masked man.
“You’re supposed to let go,” Luke said, suddenly a little less sure of what he was doing.
“One last thing.” The masked man murmured, gripping his hand so hard it started to burn. “Light or dark?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You know, good or evil. Goody two shoes or nasty bad guy? Saviour or disaster?”
Luke frowned. “Is this something I need to decide now?”
The masked man just gripped his hand harder, until Luke started to wince. He could feel it. Unlike any other pain in this place, the grip was real. And it hurt like a bitch. Making the point very clear.
He doesn’t want more questions. He just wants an answer. Luke didn’t have a preference. He didn’t swing towards the path of good or evil and didn’t feel particularly motivated towards the pursuits of either.
He didn’t see himself as some clandestine saviour. Nor did he want to hurt people.
Well, that's not entirely true. He wouldn’t say no to swinging a tyre iron at Puck's kneecaps or setting Darkspark on fire. But he didn’t want to hurt everyone or save them either. He was a pretty mixed bag when it came to people as a whole. No black or white in him, just a whole bunch of nebulous grey.
Still, that’s probably a point towards evil, consider-
The masked figure squeezed his hand, causing a painful crack.
“Yeah, yeah I get it just give me a sec.” Luke stammered.
“Tic tock. Decisions decisions.”
Okay okay, think about this logistically. Logistically the path of good was a lot smoother. For one he could register with the E.R.A.O instead of merely being accounted for by it. He could get grants for saving people, he could take courses on the beginnings of heroism. There was a fairly well-known network that ran through E.R.A.O that connected starter heroes together to form teams, which was almost always safer.
Not to mention public opinion was far easier to sway your way when you were the good guy. Many, many grim connotations came with being a villain. It was not so easy to get brand deals when you were blowing up storefronts for the helluva it. The numbers also tended to lean pretty heavily in the hero's favour. It was an easy path to a payday and esteem in the city.
There really aren’t a lot of reasons to become a villain now I think about it. Except if you were a psychopath who just wanted to cause misery. It was a much harder job but it did come with a single benefit.
You could do whatever the fuck you wanted.
Besides the unwritten rules of the Exodus Accords, you could get away with pretty much anything, so long as you were willing to take the consequences. Like getting Cuffed. No one wanted to get Cuffed.
Not really for me… But he did really, really want to maim Darkspark. There was also the personal side to consider. He lived next to a supervillain and Bloom sure as shit wasn’t going to be happy living next to a hero. If she didn’t scalp him she’d probably take him hostage for E.R.A.O to bail out a couple dozen times, which would probably land him Cuffed anyway.
Then there was his sister. Would she want her brother as a hero?
I don't think she’d want to fight me. He certainly didn’t want to fight her. But she probably didn’t want him acting as a hero either. They were bound to get grouped as siblings, each other faults shining on the other.
Kinda feels like a moot point. However, if he were a villain, Luke would become the definitive bad sibling, which could be good for Lucy’s career. But it could also drag her down.
It evened out in his head.
When it came down to it, only one real difference mattered to him. Hero’s weren’t meant to fight other heroes. You’d catch severe penalties from E.R.A.O just for thinking about it.
Which would mean he couldn’t break Darkspark’s kneecaps.
And he really, really wanted to.
Plus I can hunt down Puck. Villain vs Villain is more of a turf war sort of deal. There were many other reasons he could think of to lean towards villainy.
But the main one was simple.
Vengeance.
“Breaking the law sounds fun,” Luke said with a smile, redoubling his grip. “Make me your villain magic man.”
The masked man let his hand go.
“Villain it is.”
“Soooooooooo…” Luke muttered, prepared for something Exodus-like to happen. A giant hurricane of darkness. A wall of fire. Tsunami. Earthquake. That sorta thing. “...what now?”
“Now you wake up.” The mask man said, moving his hands to said mask and pulling it up ever so slowly. “Sorry in advance.”
“What's that supposed to mean- ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHH.”
Luke tumbled over, gripping his eyes in pain as they started to burn with terrible truth. A mere visage put such a weight on his mind that his brain stumbled, letting the pieces of it fall through the cracks.
The words to even describe it felt like they were slipping through his fingers.
It hurt just to think.
His mind was on fire.
Luke felt his body collapse into ashes as his whole being was shattered. Bones charred and skin melted like butter. The terrible truth infested more than just his body and mind. It grasped onto his soul.
Flowing into it and whispering secrets to him in languages that sounded like the stars. Raw unfettered chaos dripped through his sight, through the fractured image of what that thing was, landing against the back of his mind like fire.
He blinked awake.
His hands felt against the controls of a great vessel, suspended in an ominous everpresent darkness. A ball of blue lingers beneath the glass floor beneath him, covered in crackling dark clouds and seeming so vast. When he looked up, he saw lights. Countless of them peppering the great darkness beyond like lamp posts.
Guiding his mind to the path of doom.
Luke felt danger in those stars.
He blinked awake.
His hands held his dead friend, body torn to pieces by a terrible black blood that had eaten most of their skin. He stood on a charred war-torn plain covered in deep white fog. Long rivers of pulsating black blood were carved in the cavities of the plain around him, surrounding him in death. Small dark figures in the distance were lurking through the fog. They were getting bigger. Closer.
Luke felt time closing in.
He blinked awake.
He stood before a chained man. Countless complex azure chains bound the slender man to a stone tablet. The man looked gaunt with dark features and a wash of raven-black hair. But his white eyes were sharper than a razor and they stared into him unwaveringly. Those eyes were asking questions, but he didn’t possess the answer. The man looked in deep pain. The man looked familiar.
Luke felt fear as raw as humanity could feel it in those clear white eyes.
He blinked awake.
Wetness trickled down his face as his eyes fluttered open. A dark sky greeted him, lightless as usual. A small warmth settled through his body, nesting together in his slow-beating heart. Cold asphalt pressed into the back of his head. The smell of dried blood lingered but there was no pain.
The motel sign glowed luminescent in the distance.
Rain poured down around him.
“Well, that was…” Luke paused, waiting for his thoughts to stop tumbling. “...weird.”
Red words painted his sight before he could elaborate.
[Congradulations on obtaining a class!]
[Class {Super Villain} has been selected]
Yes. Luke thought, pushing himself up. He focused on the Class and expanded, offering a description of exactly what he’d agreed to.
[Super Villain:
The stage is set, the mask is adorned and it’s time to make the world super again. The world needs a good shake to get back in order and with the Principality of —-- on your side, you might just be the one to do it.
Fancy guns, high-speed chases and big red buttons flash in your future, along with a legacy of crime, bodies, chaos and fun.
Plot, scheme and destroy to your heart's content.
You are the Villain.
Build your infamy, payroll some minions and leave chaos in your wake.
This class is centred around conceptual powers and loosely defined villainous deeds, creating an exponential power base centred on the collective fear, acclaim and coolness surrounding your identity. Think plot armour, but as a superpower.
*Warning*: Parts of this class may subconsciously alter your behaviour, subject but not limited to an increased propensity towards anti-social behaviours and a strange desire to ominously caress a cat named Mr Doom in a larger-than-necessary chair.
*Additional Warning*: Accepting this class may make the Creator very proud.]
“Yes,” Luke mumbled, growing more and more enthused as he read over his newfound power.
Then more words carved themselves into his eyesight.
[All stats have been reduced to zero]
[Starter Quest intialising]
[Starter Quest created]
[Daily Dose of Evil:
Description:
An apple a day keeps the doctor away.
A victim a day keeps you from going astray.
Complete one minor act of villainy to grow your powers and infamy. The reward is static and will not increase with the scale of villainy accomplished.
Reward: 100EXP, one {Skill} and unlocking of {Status} feature
Punishment: Ouchies
Deadline: 23:59:48]
“Huh… it’s like a video game.” The cashier felt like he was already growing used to the weirdness.
Luke had many questions. What was going on? Who was the masked man? Was that the creator? Why did everything line up so perfectly? Who did this to him? Were they mortal? Could they die? What scale of ouchies would he suffer if he failed to meet the deadline? Why was his power sending him on quests?
And I have basically no answers… Except one.
He knew exactly who his first victim was going to be.