《Unlikely Supervillain》
1. The Inciting Incident!
The year is 2023. It is a brave new age of dauntless superheroes and maniacal supervillains.
Ever since the first empowered individuals emerged in the 1970s, superheroes have been a staple of modern life - licensed by the governments of Earth as extensions of the police force with special privileges and expanded duties. Of course, there cannot be light without darkness... at the same time heroes arrived, villains rose up as well. The superpowered war between good and evil has raged on for decades.
Towering white and chrome skyscrapers. Perfectly manicured public gardens. High-speed magnet railways that wove a sprawling web above the countless roads, plazas, and parks.
This place was far and away the wealthiest, most heavily populated metropolis on the East Coast. It was truly a city of the future - designed and built from the foundation up by a team of the greatest architects and scientific minds in history. Long ago, it had been called New Amsterdam, and after that, New York. But now it was Champion City, in honor of the hero that sacrificed his life to save it.
THWAM!!!
High, high over the bustling streets, two caped figures traded mighty blows. One, a powerfully built woman in a suit of golden armor, delivered a turning kick to her opponent''s gut. The shockwave of the impact blew across the nearby buildings like a bomb going off, shattering windows into thousands of tiny shards that showered the pavement below. Most onlookers fled at the sight of the superpowered brawl. One, however, pedaled his bike as fast as he could towards it.
Huffing and puffing, the lean young man desparately willed his aching legs to keep going, his head craned up towards the blinding-fast battle five hundred feet up. He kept one hand on the handlebars, the other holding up his expensive HD camera.
"Alright, people. Scott Shuster here for HeroHub." he said into the built-in mic, keeping calm despite the heated fight above. He wasn''t streaming, but certainly the video would be all over the net tomorrow, and his boss said he should plug the site at any given opportunity. "It looks we have Big Five member Warmaiden versus the supervillainess Black Tornado. I''d call it a catfight for the ages, but Black Tornado, woof. What a D-lister."
Another shockwave from Warmaiden, another hail of glass. He swerved under a nearby awning just in time, stopping in place and hunching down so he could keep his camera on the fight. Warmaiden''s last strike had launched Black Tornado, the villainess slamming into the side of a skyscraper. Rubble and glass panes fell down like meteors from the sky.
"Ho-lee shit!" he laughed to himself, zooming in on the destruction. "Oh man, look at that collateral!"
Black Tornado shook off the injury and burst out of the impact crater, Warmaiden flying to meet her. Scott wiped the sweat from his brow and got back on his bike, taking off to follow the fight.
Later that day...
Scott rode his bike through a busy shopping avenue lined with stores, his camera on a loop around his neck. He didn''t wear a helmet, instead letting the wind flow through his wavy blond hair. Though there were millions upon millions of faces in Champion City, some recognized his in the crowd... and those who did, didn''t have very nice things to say.
"Douchebag!"
"Asshole!"
"Get a life!"
He waved at them, keeping a smile.
HeroHub wasn''t the most well liked or respected news outlet, and Scott Shuster wasn''t its most well liked or respected reporter. He preferred the title "professional journalist for a popular metahuman news website," though most would just call him "that piece of shit paparazzi for the sleazy superhero version of TMZ." Still, the young man wore his HeroHub tee shirt proudly.
As he swerved through the crowds and tried his best not to hit any pedestrians, Scott wondered what articles of his people didn''t like. Maybe it was the one about how gross Lightning Lady''s cellulite was, or the one with the upskirt pictures of Crash Girl, or the one with the close-ups of Futureman''s herpes sores...
Nah, he thought, couldn''t be any of those. Those ones got the most clicks.
Scott banked around a corner, stopping in front of his bank and locking his bike to the rack in front of the building. Whistling, he jogged up the stairs and pulled the door open. A cool, air-conditioned breeze passed over him as he stepped inside and slid into the line for the front desk. The bank was a single, wide, brightly-lit room, with a long counter on one side and the bulk of the room taken up by people standing in rows. He would''ve gone for the ATM in the corner, but the wait to use it was actually longer than the wait to speak with a teller, and he was a guy who didn''t like to waste too much time.
On the days he didn''t set out to get photos of supers, Scott''s life was pretty boring. He mostly just sat in his apartment playing video games or reading about superheroes online. HeroHub made him good money - the editor thought his pictures and videos were awesome - but an apartment in Champion City, even a crappy one-room one like his, had a hefty price tag. That''s why he had to bike everywhere and eat ramen noodles three meals a day.
As he got towards the front of the line, he patted the pocket of his jacket. Two checks for his latest articles had come in the mail yesterday, and they''d be enough to cover half of his rent for the next month. The article on the new fight wouldn''t have that particular HeroHub sauciness, but battle footage never failed to garner clicks.
He looked over the shoulders of the people in front of him to see who was at the desk. Thank God, it was Mavis! The lady might''ve been in her seventies, but she was a HeroHub fanatic.
"Oh, hello Scott!" when he got to the front, Mavis greeted Scott with a warm smile. That was rare for him. "How''s your day been?"
"Fine. Only five people cursed me out so far."
Mavis laughed. "Haters, all of them. Any big scoops?"
He laid down his checks on the marble counter, which the old woman took. "Oh, nothing too big. Got some clips of that big fight that went down earlier today."
"Another fight?" she shook her head. "Who was it this time?"
"Warmaiden and Black Tornado. Warmaiden won, obviously... didn''t even need to use her sword."
It was rare that a villain ever beat a hero. Only the rookie ones ever lost, and even then they''d start winning all their fights after they got some experience under their utility belt.
"Black Tornado... is that the Mexican lady?" Mavis asked, tapping her pen on her desk.
"I believe she''s an ancient Aztec wind sorceress resurrected by black magic." Scott shrugged and leaned on the counter. "She''s got the plain Jane leotard and cloak."
"Oh, that one." Mavis pretended to type something into her computer. She had finished processing his checks, and Scott knew that, but she had to at least look like she was working for their chat to continue. "What do you think of her, huh?"
"Being totally honest? She''s boring. The witch thing could be cool, but she needs a better designer." he snorted. That made Mavis laugh again, and he laughed right with her. "No, really, she is trying to build herself up as some kinda nemesis to Warmaiden? With that lame costume? What a joke!"
"You just get right to it. They should have you on the show!"
That made Scott grin. In addition to the website, HeroHub had it''s own TV program, which was the number one rated show for superhero gossip. His footage got its fair share of airtime, but he''d never been invited to talk on it at all.
"Say, you really think so?"
Behind Scott, someone cleared their throat. He turned around and felt the heat of a dozen angry stares from the others waiting in line. He decided maybe he should wrap things up here, and from the look on the bank teller''s face she understood that too.
"Well, thank you Mavis." he said, straightening out his jacket. "I''ll try and get my next article out fast."
"Can''t wait!" she waved at him."Buh-bye!"
He walked up to the doors, but just as he reached for the handle...
BOOOM!!!
Scott was flung through the air, propelled by a sudden fiery explosion that blew apart the front of the bank. He crashed into the counter, collapsing to the floor in a daze. Driven by instinct alone, the young man had curled his body up around his camera, which protected it just enough to be unharmed by the blast. He, on the other hand, had a bad bruise where his body had smashed against the marble, and his clothes were burnt up and torn in places.
As he struggled to rise to his feet, he saw a statuesque woman stride confidently through the flame and wreckage. She wore a long trenchcoat and wide-brimmed hat, but quickly cast them off to reveal the domino mask and skintight black latex bodysuit beneath. Lines ran down the arms and legs of her costume, giving off an orange light like molten magma.
"Do I have everyone''s attention?" she flicked small bits of rubble out of her honey blonde bob haircut, then rested her hands on her hips. An evil smile split her plump lips, stretching from one corner to the other of her supermodel face.
Even with his head in a haze, Scott recognized her almost immediately. It was the A-list supervillain, Bombshell!
She held out her hand, and viscous orange fluid flowed from the pores of her palm. It congealed into a gooey ball, which she slung towards one of the bank tellers - Mavis. It struck her hand, gluing her to the marble countertop.
Screams filled the air and drowned out all other noise. All at once, people flooded out of the bank, either trampling over each other for the side doors or braving to run through the flaming hole that was once the entrance. Scott was a different case. As soon as he got his bearings, he reached for his camera and hid himself behind a decorative plant, prepared to ride out whatever was going to happen and get some good footage in the process. It was pointless though. Bombshell caught sight of him quickly and gestured with a beckoning finger.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
"I see you there with your camera." even though she''d just blown up the front of a building, her voice was calm, low, and husky, with a strong Southern twang. "Come on out. I wont bite."
Though Scott was used to short interactions with supers, he''d never been this close to such an infamous villain before. Feeling himself begin to sweat, he crept out from behind his cover, lowering his camera.
"That the site you work for?" she said, pointing to the big red logo plastered on his shirt. He nodded. "HeroHub, love it. Want a few pictures?"
Scott couldn''t begin to describe what he was feeling - disbelief at what was going on, fright at what could happen, and excitement at the thought of a big story. He nodded and wordlessly began to snap a few pics. For each one Bombshell struck a different sexy pose: sticking out her chest, arching her back, turning around to give Scott a nice view from behind.
The rumor going around was, before she became the ultimate anarchist criminal mastermind, Bombshell had tried to become a beauty pageant queen back in her home state. He wasn''t usually the bad girl type, but he couldn''t lie: the woman lived up to her name. Scott could totally see her as Miss Texas... it was hard to believe such a pretty, bubbly lady could be such a villain.
"Is that enough?" Bombshell asked as Scott looked through the pictures on his camera.
"No such thing." he mumbled back, clearly distracted.
While he was off guard, the woman held up her hands. She created two more sticky orange spheres and flung them at Scott, so fast he could barely track their motion.
"Whoa!"
The globs splattered against his sneakers and the tiles around his feet. It glowed from within like magma, and when Scott tried to move his feet, he found that they were anchored to the floor. He grabbed his leg and pulled as hard as he could, but it seemed like the more he struggled, the stronger the glue became. Scott knew what it was, but his brain could barely process what had just happened. It didn''t want to process it.
"You''re a supers kinda guy, right?" Bombshell kept her voice calm. "You know what I can do to you."
Bombshell''s power was to produce a incredibly sticky, explosive substance from her body similar to C-4, which she could detonate on command. That substance was what stuck Mavis to the countertop, what kept Scott rooted in place, and what could reduce either of them to a cloud of red mist at a mere whim.
"Start filmin''." she ordered. "Everyone''s gonna wanna see this."
With shaky hands he hit the record button on the side of the camera and aimed it at Bombshell. She unzipped the top of her latex bodysuit and pulled out a burlap sack - Scott wondered how itchy her boobs must''ve been. On the side of the sack was a dollar sign in green paint. Truly, the classic choice for bank robbers everywhere.
Bombshell strode up to Mavis, who was paralyzed by fear, and slammed the bag down on the marble counter. With a snap of her fingers, the orange goo that trapped the old woman''s hand detonated. Lucky for Mavis, however, Bombshell was capable of controlling the power of her explosions, and the substance harmlessly burst into hot orange smoke.
"Fill that with as much money as you can cram in." the villainess gave the demand casually, glancing at her sharp black nails as if she was considering whether or not to get another coat of gloss. Dentures chattering, Mavis did as told, stuffing wads upon wads of cash into the bag.
By now, Scott was beginning to suspect that this wasn''t an ordinary bank robbery. Bombshell was one of the biggest villains in Champion City. A simple heist like this was way below her paygrade - maybe if she was taking the whole vault, it''d make more sense. But one burlap sack of dollar bills?
While Mavis dug through her register, Bombshell turned to the camera. "Well, this is gonna take a while. Want an interview?"
"W-what''s your plan here?" Scott stammered.
She raised an eyebrow, then lifted her hand to cover a yawn.
"What are you, stupid? I''m robbin'' this bank, ain''t that obvious?"
"I mean... you''re, like, Bombshell. Isn''t this a bit below you?"
"I''ve gotta fund my bigger projects somehow." she said. "Guns, ammo, missiles, jet planes, nukes, soda pop, it all ain''t cheap."
Scott clammed up. He didn''t know what else to say to that. It made enough sense, but he still had a strange feeling in his gut.
"I was hopin'' you''d ask a fun question or two." she mock frowned. "Ain''t I interestin'' at all? Okay, here''s some fun facts: I''m 36-24-36, I''m a Pisces, I love taking long walks on the beach-"
Suddenly, the entire building shook, a boom like thunder running through the air. Scott''s pupils whipped around to the source of the noise, who was stood just beyond the broken wall.
A superhero had arrived.
The man had flown in so fast he had cratered the street when he landed, but he was unaffected by the powerful impact. His costume was immaculately white, to the point where it seemed to glow with a pearly luster. A square shield visor covered his eyes, and his long silver hair floated in the air as if it were weightless. Unfazed by the fire and rubble, he walked into the bank without missing a step.
"You''re gonna be taking long walks around the prison yard, Bombshell."
Scott was happy to see Futureman, but in his heart, he knew that was a pretty bad quip.
Futureman was one of Champion City''s top five heroes, or as they were popularly called, the Big Five. While the title usually went to Champion II, some said he was the strongest of the bunch. He was easily the most mysterious - while all the others kept their identities public, his was a secret to everybody. It was no surprise that he had showed up to face Bombshell... the two hated each other.
"I was beginnin'' to wonder what was more important than me." There was a pout on her face and hurt in her voice, but Scott could tell she was faker than a three dollar bill. "You Fivers are always so busy."
She sat up on the bank counter and crossed one leg over the other. Mavis, who had been silent this whole time, was trying to slip away through a back door, but the villainess stuck her to the floor with one of her orange globs. The old woman fell over, desperately grabbing at her foot, but she only managed to get her hands stuck too.
Over the last few minutes, Scott''s mind had been racing. He think he had Bombshell figured out.
Everyone knows that, under your average bank counter, there''s a little panic button that sends a silent alert to the police when pressed. Since there were so many supervillains in Champion City, banks had a second button: one that would hail the nearest hero. Bombshell clearly wanted to draw Futureman''s attention... but why? He knew the two of them had history, that she was his number one nemesis, but still, what was her goal here?
"Robbing a bank? Seems a little pass¨¦ for you." Futureman crossed his arms. Seemed like the hero was just as suspicious as he was.
"Funny." Bombshell said, jerking her thumb at the young man stuck to the floor. "That''s exactly what he said."
Futureman looked over to Scott. Though his eyes were hidden behind his visor, he could tell the man was staring at his tee shirt. Realization was evident on the visible 3/4ths of his face.
"Are you Scott?" he asked. "Scott... Sha, Shuster? You write for HeroHub?"
"Y-you know who I am?" Scott stammered, star-struck. "This is amazing, you''re my favo-"
"Of course I do. You''re the kid who posted my cold sores on that trashy website." The superhero cut him short.
Even through his opaque visor, Scott could feel the man''s eyes searing a hole through his head.
"Was that me?" though he knew it was pointless, Scott started anxiously struggling against the orange goop again, trying to wrench his feet from his shoes. "I''ve written so many articles, I kind of forget all of them, you know, 24 hour news cycle, gotta stay up to date with rumors and-"
"Don''t worry, kid." he said. "It''s kinda my job to save you, no matter how much I don''t want to."
When he saw the fear in Scott''s eyes, spotted the camera in his hands, and realized he had the position to broadcast that quote to all of Champion City, he rolled it back.
"Just a joke, just a joke."
He rose up his hand, and a list of his powers began to run through Scott''s head: energy blasts, hard light projections, telekinesis...
Scott''s camera was ripped out from his sweaty hands, pulled through the air by a powerful, intangible force. The strap tore apart on the back of his neck, causing him to yelp out in pain as Futureman caught his camera out of the air. With incredible strength, he crushed it to bits of plastic and metal between his gloved hands, which the hero tossed over his shoulder like confetti.
"Ya''ll done?" Bombshell asked.
While the two were having their little interaction, she had snatched up the burlap sack from the floor behind the counter. It was clutched in one of her hands, and palmed in the other Scott could see a small white device that kind of looked like a TV remote. Scott wondered what it was, and where she had pulled it from... maybe her cleavage again.
The woman started to walk for the door, Futureman reaching out an arm as if to tell her to stop. She paused in place, but still had a confident look on her face.
"You''re gonna let me go, puddin''." she said, slinging the sack of money over her shoulder playfully and raising up her other hand. Her dainty fingers were poised to snap at the drop of a pin. "I can blow those two up with half a thought. You don''t want old granny over there to be incinerated, right? Or mister reporter boy?"
Scott blinked. Mister reporter boy?
"You''re right." Futureman said, waving his hand casually.
Suddenly, that same intangible force that pulled Scott''s camera away earlier ripped the young man up from the orange goop. He hung suspended in midair, and he could see that Mavis had been freed as well, a shocked look on her face.
"It really would be a shame, wouldn''t it?"
Bombshell didn''t bother looking over her shoulder, unwavering.
"Listen up. With half a thought," the hero imitated her Texan accent with those words, "I could snap your neck seven different ways. So you''ve got three seconds to drop the cash and hand yourself over. Don''t make me have to count."
He clasped his hands together, then pulled them apart. White energy flowed between them, which shaped itself into a pair of glowing white handcuffs. Still floating, Scott watched from above as Bombshell dropped the bag and walked towards Futureman.
It was then he realized that Futureman, with all his intellect and power, had somehow failed to notice the little white device in her hand.
"F-Futureman!" he called out. "She''s, she''s got a thing!"
But his words were too late. As soon as Bombshell was in range, she whipped her hand around and jabbed the remote straight into the hero''s gut.
ZAP!!!
A bright blue shock lit up the room, the flash of light blinding everyone. Scott and Mavis dropped to the floor below, the telekinetic force holding them up fading away like a lightbulb with the plug pulled. Futureman convulsed from the sudden current, but recovered and moved to attack. He threw a punch at Bombshell''s cheek... but stopped just before it made impact, staring at his fist with wide eyes and a gaped mouth.
His glove was melting. His visor was melting. His entire costume had turned to thick liquid, which pooled at his feet in a silvery-white puddle. Beneath it he wore a black tank top and shorts, looking just like any other older man you''d see out on the street. His gravity-defying hair drooped, falling to his shoulders and framing his shocked face.
"What..." his voice became hoarse and choked up as he stared down at himself, his hands frantically patting his body down as if he thought his suit had just turned invisible or something. "What did you just do...?"
Bombshell tucked the remote away into her suit with a smile, then decked him hard enough to send teeth flying.
Scott''s jaw nearly fell to the floor. Futureman could take bullets and grenades and missiles to the face without a scratch, and while Bombshell was tough, she shouldn''t have been able to do that. She seemed to be just as surprised as he was, holding up her fist as if in wonder of the sudden burst of strength.
Futureman struggled to get up from the blow, coughing and hacking on all fours. Blood oozed from the corner of his lip, and with each rasp of breath flecks were sent to the tiles. With a vicious grunt of effort, Bombshell smashed her heel down on the back of his neck, and Scott could hear a sickening crack.
"Well, that should do it." Bombshell flipped him over with the toe of her boot, checking if he was really dead. "Didn''t expect that to be so easy, really."
She propped her elbow on her arm and her head on her hand. For a while, she was silent. Then she laughed to herself.
"I wish you had got all that." Bombshell said to Scott, looking back at him. She knelt down and sifted through the wreckage of his camera, which was close by her. Miraculously, the memory card had survived, and she tossed it through the air to Scott. Shellshocked, he let it hit him in the chest and drop to the floor.
"Can''t wait to see all the headlines." the woman scooped up the money as if it was an afterthought, and just as abruptly as how she''d arrived, walked out through the ruined entrance. When she got to the door, she created one of her orange globs and threw it down at the empty road, letting the explosion propel her away.
It took Scott about a minute to realize what he had just seen. Futureman, one of the Big Five, an absolute A-lister, a hero with his face on lunchboxes and action figures... had just died in front of him. And the woman who did it, had made it look easy.
When he felt like he could move, he paced over to the marble counter and looked over it. Mavis was unconscious on the floor - he figured the drop earlier must''ve knocked her out, or maybe she''d just fainted out of stress at some point. Either was a possibility. Reaching his hand under the counter, he fumbled around for the security buttons, finding both just under the lip. His nerves strung on end, he pushed them both several times to be sure.
Scott drank in the destruction - the destroyed front entrance, the side doors nearly ripped off by the fleeing stampede, the cracked floor around Futureman''s snapped neck. He did not want to be around when the police arrived, or even worse, another super. Hastily, he decided to leg it out of the place - kind of hard since his body hurt all over. His bike was still outside, and in a few minutes he could be far, far away from the situation.
On his rush out, he didn''t notice when he stepped into the puddle that had been Futureman''s costume. And he definitely didn''t notice when the silvery fluid slithered its way up his leg...
2. The Investigation Begins!
It was nearly nighttime in Champion City. Brilliant orange tones painted the bottom of the darkening sky, which was thick with clouds. People gathered in the roads with their heads craned up - not watching the beautiful sunset, but instead the dozens of caped superheroes soaring above. Like birds headed south for winter, they all flew in the same direction. Nobody knew what was going on.
Except for one.
Scott pedaled through a quiet side street, the wheels of his bike bumping on the uneven pavement. He had pulled the hood of his jacket over his head and zipped it up to hide his tee shirt. The last thing he needed right now was to be called a name by some stranger.
He locked up his bike in front of a random pub. The young man had only turned 21 a couple months ago - he''d been living on his own and working as a reporter since he was 19 - and he still hadn''t acquired much of a taste for alcohol. But he walked in and sat down at the bar anyways. TV screens lined the walls, most of which were tuned into sports games.
"Hello!" the bartender, a cheery redhead maybe only a little older than he was, greeted him with a smile. "Can I get you anything?"
"Uhh..." he tapped his finger. He still had his hood on, so he pulled it off. "Do you have beer?"
"This is a bar, sir." she replied, only the slightest hint of condescension in her tone.
"Yeah, I''ll have beer then." he said, quickly tacking on more detail so he didn''t look stupid again. "Just, whatever''s cheapest."
The bartender poured him his drink, then left to attend to another patron. Scott sipped it slowly, glancing around anxiously. Even if he was on the lowest possible tier, he was still technically a public figure. Did anyone here recognize him?
He shook his head. What was he so worried about? Even if someone did know him, no one would know what had just happened. Scott straightened himself out, took deeper sips, and began to ruminate on his situation.
People in this city loved superheroes, but to a degree, they feared them as well. Scott was no different, in fact, he was on both extremes. It had been exhilarating to meet Futureman, even if he was glued to the floor as a hostage. But at the thought of being a witness to the guy''s murder... he imagined being strapped to a chair in a windowless room with Champion or Warmaiden, a single bare lightbulb swinging from the ceiling, them cracking their knuckles and telling him to spill everything. That was why he had run.
Scott liked to assume that heroes were good people, but given that his whole job was to rake up dirt on them... he could easily see them not being so nice if he was involved.
"Special news report!"
At the sound of those words, Scott swiveled around to look at one of the wall-mounted TVs. The bartender had a remote in her hand and was turning the volume up, her wide eyes just as fixed on the screen as everyone else''s.
Footage of the bank was playing. Nobody in Champion City was a stranger to that kind of destruction, but the ticker was what had caught their attention: "FUTUREMAN PRESUMED DEAD IN ROBBERY GONE WRONG."
Quickly chugging the rest of his beer, Scott decided it was time to go home.
"We''re going to find Bombshell." the imposing figure of the second Champion stood stock still, his powerful arms folded over his broad chest. He fixed his burning stare on the horizon. "And she''s going to pay for this with her life."
Police tape cordoned off the ruined bank from the throng of onlookers. Some were civilians, some were police or reporters, but the bulk of them were heroes, who had arrived to pay respect. Already a small mountain of memorial flowers had been placed on the half-shattered marble steps.
Three heroes had been allowed to enter the crime scene: the unmistakable red, white, and blue Champion II, the young Latina speedster Streak, and a dark-skinned man who everyone recognized as the billionaire supergenius System, despite the fact he was in simple street clothes and not his iconic black power armor. Together, they were three parts of what had used to be the Big Five.
"Andrew..." System stepped up behind his fellow Fiver, putting a hand on his shoulder. "We have a code."
"Don''t touch me, Bryan!" Champion shoved him away. "You think I don''t know about the code?"
Streak rolled her eyes. Champion noticed and stomped right up to the girl, who he had two heads worth of height on.
"Got something to say, rookie?" he barked. Luiza Lopez might''ve been known for her quips, but she kept her sharp tongue still. "Yeah, that''s what I thought."
"If you''re going to be difficult." System said sternly from across the room, speaking as if he was scolding a child. "Then you can leave. We have an investigation on our hands."Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
"Investigate all you like." Champion caught his glare, then flew off to the front of the crime scene. The number one hero''s boots touched down on the stairs, right in front of the pile of flowers. News cameras turned his way, and he gestured for the mayor and police chief to join him at his sides.
"This is an official announcement from Champion!" he shouted, drawing all the eyes that weren''t already on him. "Effective immediately, Champion City is on Code Black: complete and total lockdown."
Gasps rose up from the crowd. Reporters pushed their way to the front of the pack, waving microphones and shouting questions.
"Is Futureman really dead?" one asked. Champion''s normally stoic face twisted into a grimace that just barely hid his bubbling pain.
"Yes." he said, struggling not to choke up. "And Bombshell is responsible!"
Back in the bank, System watched the impromptu press release unfold, running a hand over his bald head in disbelief. He turned to face Luiza.
"Might as well try to salvage this." he said. "Stay here."
Striding up to the front of the crowd, he positioned himself in front of Champion and held out his arms. "Everybody, everybody!" Back in the bank where no one could see, the number one hero would''ve tried to push him away again - but with a thousand cameras on them both, he just stood in place seething.
"Our investigation is ongoing." he said. "But yes, we do believe Bombshell played a role in Futureman''s death. We also believe she may be in possession of Futureman''s suit."
Questions kept being shouted out. "What''s so important about that?"
"Futureman preferred to keep this a secret." System kept calm. "But, here it is: like me, he was just a normal person under his suit. The costume he wore is, in reality, a highly advanced nanotech superweapon. With it, anyone could be a top tier threat."
That got the crowd talking, worried murmurs and gasps filling the air. System raised his voice to be heard above the chatter.
"It is imperative that we locate Bombshell, but keep in mind that if she has the suit... she''s infinitely stronger than she was before. In order to prevent possibly making things worse, we need to take the time to -"
"Lock this city down." Champion cut in, finishing the sentence for him. System shot him an angry glance. "No planes taking off, no cars driving out, shut down the magnet trains and the bridges."
"C-can you do that?" the mayor stammered, quietly enough that the news cameras picked his voice up. Champion leaned in to his ear.
"It''s my name on the city, not yours." he whispered forcefully. Then, in a mighty shout, he addressed the crowd once more.
"Heroes, to action!"
With his famous catchphrase, he soared off. People cheered as more and more of the superheroes in the crowd took flight to join him. System watched them fly away, sighed, and turned his attention back to the gaggle of press.
"You all can leave. We wont be answering any more questions at the moment."
That only made them ask more questions, but he walked off and left the reporters to the police. Streak had done as told, waiting for him inside the building - though she didn''t look happy.
"Hey, just wanna say... I trust your judgement on things generally, Mr. Masters, sir." she walked to his side, following his slow strides with impatient steps. "But was it a good idea to, y''know, tell everyone about his suit? On live TV? Do we really need to get the public riled up?"
"Champion already did that." System said. "And besides, a superweapon on the loose is not something we should hide from the public. They have a right to know."
"I didn''t!" the young woman threw her arms in the air. "Nobody ever told me anything about his stupid costume!"
"I said before, Futureman didn''t want people to know the source of his powers. He only trusted Champion and I with that information."
Luiza wanted to say more, but knew it was pointless, so she instead just let out a groan of irritation and kept her motor mouth shut. Talking to System was like playing ping pong against a brick wall: a good way of getting nowhere fast. For a while she stood still, tapping her foot a few thousand times a second in boredom as she watched System inspect the crime scene.
They knew the explosion that tore apart the front of the bank was the first to happen, thanks to eyewitness testimony. While they had footage up until the explosion, that initial blast had burnt out all the security cameras in the bank and around the street. It was in line with the effects of Bombshell''s unique bio-explosive, and left them with almost nothing on what had gone down inside the bank afterwards. All the witnesses of the first explosion had fled at the sight of her.
Minus the destruction, it was a large bank just like any other. This neighborhood was well off - pretty much all of Champion City was - so the counter where the tellers stood had no reinforced glass shields like you might see in a poorer city. When they first arrived, System and the police had found an elderly woman in the back, but she was in no condition to give any information about what had happened, babbling uncontrollably when spoken to. System had managed to get her information from the bank''s database and handed it off to the ambulance that took the old woman away, and a while later a cop had informed him her grandchildren had already met her at the hospital.
"I think..." he murmured, crouching down. He inspected one of the two explosive globs Bombshell had left behind. The presence of the substance was what had first tipped them off to the villain''s involvement. "I think it''s possible that Bombshell doesn''t have the suit."
"Why''s that?" Streak asked, seeing the gears turning in System''s head.
"There was another person there." he said. "Besides the teller. There''s footprints in this gunk that don''t add up."
"So what if there''s another witness?" she asked. She''d worked with System a while, and knew that he only ever said a fraction of what was going on in his brain. "Useful, sure. But what''s that got to do with the suit?"
System spotted something on the ground, a small black chip he couldn''t believe he had missed before. It was an SD card, like one you''d find in a camera.
"She wouldn''t know anything about the suit being his power source." System said, picking up the chip. "No one did. She wouldn''t have any reason to take it."
"Maybe as a trophy?" Streak proposed.
"It''s possible. But I don''t think so. Doesn''t match her history. She''s taken heroes down before and she''s never done anything like that."
"Well, maybe she figured it out."
"Maybe." he said, tossing the SD card over to her. She caught it with a lightning quick hand, turning it over in her palm.
"What do you think we''ll find on this?" the young woman asked. System shrugged.
"No clue. Let''s bring it in to HQ."
While the other superheroes of Champion City cracked down on the streets, System and Streak headed off to base.
3. Confrontation!
A long time ago, a statue was built on an island near what would come to be called Champion City. A gift from France to the United States, the woman and her torch had become a monument to liberty - and monuments were like catnip to supervillains. In the same battle that razed NYC and claimed the first Champion''s life, Lady Liberty had been utterly destroyed.
Instead of rebuilding her, the site had been used for a new structure: the Champion Center, a massive building/statue made in the image of a caped hero taking flight. Not only did it serve as a memorial to the original Champion, but it was the headquarters for the city''s licensed superheroes, some of whom even lived on the site. Ferries ran out to the island everyday, carrying tourists from all over the globe, but it was nighttime now, so the waters were empty.
The head of the building was home to a vast, circular computer lab, owned by System (most of the Center was). Rows and rows of expensive computers, each on their own black desk, filled the room in round tiers.
Bryan Masters tapped at one of the holographic consoles, loading detailed 3D schematics of Futureman''s suit which only he was able to decrypt. On the other side of the lab, Luiza Lopez sat at another, more simple computer which was still booting up. It was pretty old, but it had a port for the SD card. She''d changed out of her pink-and-yellow superhero outfit by now, wearing a loose tank top and tight black leggings.
"So, where''s Warmaiden?" she called out to System, taking a bite out of her Big Mac - she''d run by McDonald''s on the way to the Center. She spoke through chews. "Why wasn''t she at the bank?"
"Regina''s still in recovery." System folded his hands together behind his back as he studied the models, ocasionally stretching out a finger to rotate them or zoom in on a section to get better detail. "Tomorrow she''ll be in a press conference about her fight with Black Tornado."
"Black Tornado, heh. Girl needs a better costume, am I right? Boooring." she noisily sipped her cherry Coke, brushing french fry crumbs off her lap. "Speaking of which, I''m thinking I''m not big on the old suit, could you maybe get me a new costume? I want a two piecer this time, maybe with like cool shades and a jacket-"
"I''ll see what I can do." System said curtly. "For now, can you do what I asked you to, please?"
"Sorry, Mr. Masters, sir..."
The computer was on now, so she logged in, slid the SD cart into the slot, and clicked through its contents. There were a slew of photos, along with a handful of videos. The titles were strings of numbers, but Luiza could tell that the first few digits made up the date and time. She went for the ones from today, starting with the videos over the pictures and clicking the latest one. At the sight of the first frame, she paused it.
"Mr. Masters!" she called out. He looked over. "We''ve got footage from inside the bank!"
Closing the holographic blueprints with a wave of his hand, he walked up to Luiza''s side, staring down at the screen.
"Go on, play it."
In the first few seconds, he could see Bombshell standing in the middle of the bank. Judging by the shaky recording, whoever was filming was incredibly unnerved, possibly being forced. The villainess unzipped her latex bodysuit, pulling a burlap sack from her cleavage. Luiza whistled as if she was impressed, making System cock an eyebrow.
The elderly woman - Mavis - they had found in the back was clearly visible in the footage, bonded to the counter by some of Bombshell''s sticky bio-explosive. The video went on to show Bombshell forcing her to gather money while she waited on the countertop, and System found it strange how bored the villainess looked. She started bantering with the unseen cameraman, who was seemingly a young male.
Given his shaky voice, his earlier idea about the kid being forced to film seemed be holding water. Thinking back to the crime scene, he remembered the positioning of the orange residue with the footprints in it. Everything seemed to line up in his head.
"Where''s this lady from?" Luiza asked, noting her accent. "Sounds like a cowgirl or something."
"Shh..."
Suddenly, the footage got twenty times shakier, and an abrupt loud sound blasted through the computer speakers. Luiza covered her ears, thankful she hadn''t been wearing headphones.
It was Futureman. Both of the heroes leaned in, watching far more closely now. It looked like any other confrontation with a villain they''d ever had - trading quips and threats. Futureman looked perfectly relaxed, and since he was a seasoned hero, that was no surprise. But when Futureman was pointed out who the kid behind the camera was, his face contorted first into confusion, then realization, then anger.
"Are you Scott? Scott... Sha, Shuster? You write for HeroHub?"
"Pause it." System ordered. Luiza did as told. "Go back and play that again."
"Are you Scott? Scott... Sha, Shuster? You write for HeroHub?"
"Scott Shuster." Luiza said. "Have you heard of him?"
System initially shook his head no, but then went back on that. "Wait, actually... I do remember Futureman talking about some pictures of him being sent around online."
Luiza hit play again, letting the next few seconds play out.
"Y-you know who I am?" the cameraman stammered. "This is amazing, you''re my favo-"The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Futureman''s stern voice cut in. "Of course I do. You''re the kid who posted my cold sores on that trashy website."
Streak laughed. "Oh, the herpes pics?"
"Luiza." his voice sharp, System gave her a stern glare. "Have some respect."
The video soon ended anticlimactically, with the camera rocketing out of the young man''s hands. System quickly identified it as telekinesis being used, one of Futureman''s many powers. For the split second between Futureman grabbing the camera and crushing it to pieces, the camera was turned towards its original owner. With a scroll back on the video''s timeline and a precise, super-reflex pause, Luiza caught him.
"White male, teenager maybe?" she said, swiveling her chair aside to let System take a look. "Bit older?"
"HeroHub shirt." System noted. "Is that all the footage from the bank?"
"It''s the last video on the card, and the others are from earlier in the day." Luiza said. "There''s some pictures."
"Look through those." he said, stalking off towards another computer that was already on. He opened up two windows - one of their ID database, and one of HeroHub.com.
Finding the kid''s name and address wasn''t hard: he lived in an apartment complex not too far from the bank. HeroHub had a list of all its contributors, each with their own page that scrolled down into previews of their articles. Whoever Scott Shuster was, he seemed to have the same sleazy sensibilities as the other writers on the site, with his writings and pictures having a heavy focus on female heroes and their bodies: Lightning Lady, Crash Girl, Miss Mystic. If he had to wager a guess, the kid was somewhere between a casual misogynist and a full-blown pervert.
"Wow!"
From behind, he heard Luiza whistle again. He glanced over his shoulder to see her gawking at a provocative picture of Bombshell. As it seemed, it had been taken in the bank by Scott.
"Perhaps that''s why she forced him to film the crime." System said. Luiza clicked through more of them, excitement on her face.
"I don''t know, she seems pretty into the photoshoot." she said, pausing to zoom in on one where the villainess had spun around and posed with her round ass stuck out. System rolled his eyes, then noticed Luiza clicking on the image options...
"Why are you saving a copy of that?!" he snapped at her in frustration. Quickly, Luiza tabbed out of the window.
"Don''t know what you''re talking about." she said, looking back at him and running a hand through her choppy dyed-pink haircut sheepishly. The older man was clearly unimpressed with her. "Just, ah, it''s evidence, that''s all."
"Well, whatever you''re doing, wrap it up." he got out of his chair and walked towards the middle of the circular room. In the exact center, the floor gave way to a metal aperture, which dilated open with a hiss. Up from the shadows rose a sleek set of mechanical armor, jet black like a stealth aircraft.
"Get your suit on. We''re gonna go pay Scott a visit."
Scott pushed open the door to his cramped apartment, shut it behind him, and flopped down onto his unmade bed.
It had been quite the day.
For a long while, he just laid there face down with the lights off. But then his stomach started to rumble. He sat up slowly.
Might as well order a pizza.
As he called up the local Dominos, he started to take off his socks and sneakers. Some of that sticky glowing orange stuff was still on the soles of them, so he fetched a knife from the kitchen. Well, it was just the counter with the sink and the hotplate where he was supposed to cook things, but he called it the kitchen.
"Pepperoni... uh, medium... no, small." he said, chipping the orange gunk away. It was strange, the goop came off effortlessly even though it had trapped him tightly before. "Do you guys still deliver right to the door for apartments?... okay, nice... yeah, can I do stuffed crust? Wait, two dollars extra?"
Even as he had the most mundane, everyday interaction in history, Scott still felt weird as hell. Something was off about him, and he couldn''t pinpoint what.
On his way home, all the aches in his body had suddenly gone away. In fact, he''d biked faster than he ever had before, flying down the street like a pro cyclist. He reached around to his back and pressed down on where his bruise had been, finding that it didn''t hurt one bit. It wasn''t even tender any more. What was going on?
Scott finished up his call, then paced over to his mirror, staring hard at himself.
That''s when he noticed the silvery white line around his neck. Scott was fairly pale, so the change in color was subtle, espcially in the dark.
He flicked on the light, then took off his jacket - his arms were silvery white, too.
Scrambling, he took off his tee shirt - his whole chest shone like bright, pearly metal.
And finally, he slipped down his pants and kicked them away - to find that this strange new skin somehow went over his underwear, stopping right above his ankles.
"What the hell?!"
Somehow, beneath his clothing but above his boxer briefs, a silvery bodysuit had slipped its way onto him. It looked like something a superhero would wear... not just any hero, Futureman!
He looked around his room in a daze. One of his walls was dedicated to posters of heroes, some of which he''d had since he was a kid. Running up, he pulled one of Futureman down and went back to the mirror. Except for the missing cape, visor, boots, and gloves, it was an exact match!
Scott laid his hands on his chest, patting the sleek metal that covered it. The silver surface was cold to the touch, but it didn''t feel like he was wearing anything. When Bombshell had hit Futureman with that TV remote thing, it had made his costume turn to liquid... but maybe it had always been like that, the whole time? Other superheroes had suits sort of like that, nanotech sutff.
Suddenly, there was a knock on his door. He glanced over to it. Jesus, Dominos did not fuck around with "thirty minutes or it''s free."
"I''ll be out in a minute!" Scott called out. He couldn''t let anyone see him like this. If he was caught wearing Futureman''s suit the same day he died... well, that was not a good look.
He looked down at himself. Alright, how to get out of this thing?
It didn''t have a zipper, or anywhere he could pull it off... he pinched down on the neck and pulled back. Nope, it stretched like elastic, but snapped right back in place when he let go. Not in a natural way, though. The metal just swam, like it had a mind of its own, like it was reconfiguring itself into an intended shape.
The person at the door began to knock harder.
"Just a second!"
He looked around his room, stepping up to the sink. Water didn''t wash it off, neither did soap, and his sponge was absolutely useless. He tried to rip it off, pulling harder on the neck, but whatever the silver stuff was, it was not gonna tear. Finally, he turned to his knife, which he had laid down on his bed after cleaning his shoes off with it.
"Am I really gonna do this?" he thought as he pressed the blade down on his arm. "Well, here goes..."
He pressed down, and the knife shattered into tiny metal fragments.
The knocking had turned into a banging. In frustration he whipped around, screaming at the door.
"I''m gonna get the fucking pizza, just calm down!!" he raised his voice as loud as he could, but they just didn''t stop.
He wrung his sweaty hands together, his mind a blur. Desparate now, he started trying to tear it off again, grabbing entire handfuls of the stretchy metal. "Just. Get. Off!" he thought.
At that moment, the metal melted off of him into a puddle, leaving him in his black boxer briefs. Too relieved to even think about his state of dress, he leapt for the door and pulled it open.
Standing in the doorway was a tall, shapely woman in a wide brimmed hat and trench coat. Though she hid her face well, Scott recognized her at a glance.
"Hey, puddin''." said Bombshell, propping her hands on her hips as she looked him up and down. "Lovin'' the view."
4. The Power Discovered!
"You always answer the door like this, Scott?" Bombshell asked, muscling her way into his apartment. Casually, she pulled off her trenchcoat disguise and dropped it on his floor. Just like before, she wore that tight black bodysuit and her domino mask beneath it. Shivering in fear, Scott unconsciously backed up to make room for the villainess.
"N-not usually." said the young man, wrapping his arms around his bare chest to cover himself up. He cast a nervous glance behind him at the silvery puddle on the floor. Bombshell was seconds away from seeing it, so he needed to think fast.
"How do you know my name?" he asked, trying to buy time. Think, think, think!
"Futureman said it." Bombshell smirked. "What, did you forget puddin''?"
Futureman''s costume... it had listened to him earlier. Maybe it''d listen again.
"Hide. Hide!" he thought frantically. Following his command, the silvery mass slipped away under his bed. It vanished beneath it just as Bombshell peeked over his shoulder.
"Hmm..." the villainess strutted around his apartment, wiggling her hips in a way that Scott couldn''t ignore. She stopped to look at the wall lined with superhero posters, stifling a laugh. "What are you, twelve? Don''t tell me you have little superhero dolls too!"
"Some of those pictures are mine..." he scratched his nose, wishing he could think of a better defense. Bombshell caught his eyes and laser focused on them.
"Alright." she cracked her knuckles, the playfulness draining from her husky voice. "Let''s get right to it. Where''s the suit?"
Scott didn''t know what to say. He considered giving her the suit - maybe she''d leave him alone. But then again, he didn''t know what the thing was capable of. His mind flashed back to the bank, to when she''d used the remote on Futureman. All his strength had been sapped away, and his telekinesis had faded as well. Was the costume his power source...? It certainly seemed that way. If he gave her the suit, he could be handing this terrorist just what she needed to destroy the city.
After a long silence, he spoke.
"I don''t know." he said flatly, eyes averted. Bombshell shook her head and chuckled.
"Scott, Scott, Scott..." she let her drawling accent color the last one specially.
In a flash, Scott found himself getting choked out. Bombshell had covered the gap between them in a fraction of a second, squeezing her fingers around his throat in a vice grip before he even had the chance to react
"You are one bad liar." she pulled him close and hissed in his ear.
Spurred on by a sudden burst of courage, he grabbed Bombshell''s arm and tried to pull her hand away. He threw weak punches with his other hand, but it was futile: Scott just couldn''t contend with her superhuman strength. The woman overpowered him with ease, wrestled him down onto his bed, pinned him in place, and kept on choking him out as his resistance began to melt. A second wind soon hit him though, and he continued to struggle against her, the springs in his old mattress making violent creaks.
"You''ve got what I want, Scott." she said, pushing his head down and lightening her grip on his throat. He pulled in a deep gasp of air, just in time for her to lift his head back up and slam it down again. "Now be a good boy and give it to me."
There was a knock at the door, and someone cleared their throat.
Bombshell and Scott both froze, their heads spinning towards the sound. A meek girl in a blue shirt and hat had a pizza box in her hands, her eyes averted from the strange scene. Scott wondered what she thought was going on... how long had she been watching?
"Did you guys order a pizza?"
"Pizza?" Bombshell licked her lips. "What kind?"
"Pepperoni stuffed crust." she said, reading the tag on the box. "Medium."
"I thought I ordered small..." Scott managed to choke some words out, so Bombshell pressed down hard on his throat.
"Leave it." Bombshell ordered.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
"Alright." the girl laid the pizza down. "Am I getting a tip?"
Bombshell paused, then straightened up and posed with her ass out. She lifted her hand to give one of her big cheeks a spank, making it jiggle enticingly.
"How''s that for a tip?" she asked, beaming proudly.
"I mean, that''s nice." the pizza girl was unaffected. "But I''d prefer money, really."
Groaning, the villainess reached into her cleavage. She pulled out her wallet and tossed a fiver at the girl. "Close the door."
"Thanks..." shaking her head, the pizza girl scooped up the bill and did as told.
"Works better on guys..." Bombshell muttered beneath her breath.
For a while, she stared at the door, listening to the footsteps trail off. She then looked back at Scott, who was panting for air, frozen in place on the bed. His eyes met hers.
"Maybe we got off to a bad start..." she said. She extended a finger to his neck, tracing little circles with the tip of her nail. Even though the veiled threat was clear to him, it sent nice shivers down Scott spine. "How about we sit down, eat some pizza, and you can give me the suit. How''s that sound?"
"The suit." Scott thought. He mentally slapped himself. "The suit! I''m an idiot!"
He sat up, his face straining in concentration. Bombshell backed away, raising an eyebrow.
"Suit! Suit! Come on, I need you!"
For a second, nothing happened. But then, his bed burst apart into a shower of stuffing and springs, the force of the sudden explosion throwing Bombshell across the room. She collided with his hero wall, sending some of the framed posters crashing onto the floor. Scott, however, was propelled into a standing position, guided along by ribbons of silver that floated through the air and kept him aloft. They wrapped around him, weaving and threading over his body before melting back into one shape.
Sneering, Bombshell rose back up to full height, dusting herself off. Scott stood tall to face her, confident and composed for once.
"So you want me to tear it off?" she asked. "Kinky."
From her suit, she drew that same TV remote device and lunged. But Scott was prepared. Just by willing it, he sent her flying back again, and this time she embedded into the drywall. The woman struggled against his telekinetic force, gasping for breath as it pushed down on her throat and chest.
Scott eyed the device in her hand. She had her finger on the button, and blue energy crackled at its tip. Reminded of another of Futureman''s powers, he decided to try something out. He extended two fingers, aiming them at the remote.
"Energy blast, energy blast, energy blast!"
On mental command, a white bolt leapt from his fingertips fast as a bullet. It streaked through the air and hit its mark perfectly, blasting the device to pieces. He laughed with boyish excitement, jumping in place.
"Lasers!" he shouted. "I''ve got lasers!"
"Good... for... you..." Bombshell''s speech was strained by his telekinesis, which was still in full force. "Please... let... me... go..."
All day, Scott had been a stammering mess. His whole life, he''d been a loser. But now, with these amazing powers, he felt stronger than ever before. He looked at the supervillainess with a devilish glint in his eye - and turned up the pressure. Cracks began to spiderweb over the wall.
"Give me one good reason to." he said.
"I... can..." Bombshell was beginning to crack, losing her trademark poise. "Help... you... heroes... coming..."
He let her go. The villainess fell down on all fours, gulping in heavy lungfuls of air. Her black domino mask was slipping loose, letting Scott see her amber-orange eyes more clearly.
"Heroes?" he asked.
"They''ve been tearing the town apart." Bombshell said, trying to regain her composure as she stood up and fixed her mask. "They want that suit. It''s only a matter of time until they find you... you don''t want that, right?"
Scott thought back to the scene of the crime. He had maybe been caught on security footage, and... oh, fuck! He had left the SD card behind! They could figure out who he was from that alone, for sure. The vision of the interrogation room overpowered his other thoughts... but then a stronger feeling bubbled to the surface and washed everything else away.
He wanted to keep this power. He couldn''t let those superheroes take this away from him...
"Just give me the suit." Bombshell pleaded. "Say you left the bank cause you were scared, and that I took the suit with me."
"Why didn''t you take it before?" he asked, staring her in the eye.
"I didn''t know it was a superweapon!" she shouted. "I just wanted Futureman dead!"
"Wait." Scott paused, looking down at the silvery suit that covered his body. "Superweapon?"
Before she could explain, a ringtone started to play from inside her suit. From her cleavage, she pulled out a buzzing cell phone and rose it to her ear - this was getting ridiculous by now, Scott thought. She had big tits, sure, but how much could she realistically fit between those things?
"What''s that?" she asked incredulously. "Two Fivers? Shit!"
She hung up, looking around Scott''s room. There was a single window on the wall, which lead out to a fire escape.
"Listen up." she said, jabbing a finger at Scott''s throat. Before he would''ve choked up, but he just glared at her defiantly. "Either you can wait here for the capes to come and deal with you, or you can come with me and spend the night. I''ve got a lot I can offer you for that suit-"
"I''m keeping it. Let''s go." Scott shot back. When he saw the confusion on the villainess''s face, he elaborated. "This... I''ve never been this strong before. I don''t want to give that up, not to anybody. I don''t know if a super would understand..."
Bombshell smiled. "Oh, I get you completely, Scott."
This... this wasn''t exactly what she wanted, but it seemed like it could go someplace really, really good.
"Alright." she said, strutting over to his window and pulling it open. Cool night air rushed in. "My associates are waiting in a car outside. Let''s not waste any time... wait."
She pointed across the room at the Dominos box on the floor.
"Grab that, will you?"
As he followed her out onto the fire escape with a pepperoni pizza in his hands, Scott wondered if this was really happening.
5. Into The Underworld!
Together, the two slipped around his apartment building into an offshoot alleyway. When Scott had first stepped onto the cold metal fire escape, he had tried to command the suit some more. Just by thinking "boots," the liquid metal extended down over his feet and created shiny white footwear. "Gloves" formed some gloves, and he wanted to try and make a cape to complete the Futureman look, but he thought Bombshell would laugh at him for it.
The sky was deep black, but Scott could still see superheroes above, their caped silhouettes gliding like phantoms over the rooftops. Usually the sight of a hero gave him some sense of security - but now that couldn''t be more wrong, especially with the sheer amount of them around. Every single super in Champion City must''ve been out looking for the suit.
"They''re lockin'' the city down." Bombshell explained through a mouthful of pizza. Scott kept the box in his shaky hands, having not touched a slice. "They don''t want that suit gettin'' out. Explain to me why you took the thing in the first place, exactly?"
"It was an accident. I don''t know. I think I stepped on it, or well, in it... it just stuck to me and I didn''t notice until I got home."
"Hmm." Bombshell reached over for another slice. "Guess we''ll have to ask Doc about it."
"Doc?"
As she took a bite out of the pizza slice, she extended her hand out. Scott watched in awe as she knocked on thin air, her knuckles rapping against something invisible. That invisible something swung open like a hatch, revealing the inside of a luxurious car - plush seats, gold-plated walls, a bucket of ice and champagne in the middle.
"Hop in." said Bombshell, climbing into the invisible vehicle.
The cabin had two rows of seats, one along the back and one along the front where the driver sat. Scott slid in next to Bombshell in the back, sitting across from a dark-cloaked figure. They wore a black mask that looked like a mix between a plague doctor''s mask and an old school gas mask. Next to the cloaked figure was an Asian woman in a golden dress, her black hair kept in a neat bun. She looked disinterested, staring out the window without a look at Scott or Bombshell. The door to the vehicle automatically closed shut with a hiss, but the car didn''t move.
"What is this?" the cloaked person asked, their mask modulating their voice in a strange way. Scott could tell it was a woman, however.
"Plans changed, Doc." said Bombshell. She threw an arm over Scott''s shoulders, pulling him close to her in a friendly sort of way. "Scott, meet Doctor Demise. Doc, meet Scott Shuster."
Scott''s eyes went wide. "Doctor Demise?" he asked. This was one of the city''s top villains, a crafty schemer who ran things from the shadows with her undead minions and robotic creations. She was so secretive that no one even knew what she looked like... or that she was a "she" to begin with.
The cloaked figure shifted in place, nodding her head. "In the flesh. Delilah, explain yourself."
"Scott here wants to be our associate. See the suit?" Bombshell said, running a finger over his chest. It made him blush. "He says it got on him by accident and that he wants to keep it. He shot your little gizmo, so we don''t really have a way of takin'' it by force. And it seems like he can call it to him, so swipin'' it ain''t an option either way. He seems like a nice guy, so-"
"Y-your associate?" Scott cut in. "I never said anything like that!"
The two came face to face, Bombshell raising an eyebrow.
"You agreed to come with me and you agreed to get in this car. That makes you my associate."
"Quiet, both of you." Doctor Demise was rubbing their forehead over their mask. "So what''s the idea here, is he on our side?"
Scott''s eyes were still locked with Bombshell''s. "How about it, Scott? You with me?"
Well... it was either the heroes, or her. The heroes wouldn''t let him keep the suit, that''s for sure, and probably wouldn''t accept him either way. Bombshell didn''t seem like she wanted to hurt him, and from how she spoke, it seemed like the bad guys only had one of the suit-remover things. He felt bad teaming up with the villains, but... well, he wanted to keep the suit really bad. And also, he had complete control of it. With him in command of the suit, they couldn''t use it to blow up the city or whatever. For now, it seemed to be the safest option.
He nodded silently, and Bombshell clapped him on the back.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
"Good boy! See, everythin'' worked out fine, Doc. I got the suit just like you asked."
"Not just like I asked." Demise replied.
Despite the villain''s demeanor, she appeared to be satisfied with the situation. She reached a gloved hand back and rapped on a window that separated the cabin from the driver''s seat. Through the glass, Scott could see the chauffeur look back - and that they were a zombie, with mottled green skin, an eyeball dangling out the socket, and a little blue hat. By pressing a button on her mask, Demise made some kind of electronic whistling noise to the zombie. The command recieved, it turned back to the wheel and the car sped off.
Bombshell leaned back in her seat and crossed her legs. She took another slice of pizza from the box, which was in Scott''s lap. "Want some?" she offered her two fellow villains.
"No." said Demise, unamused. "Dominos is repulsive slop."
Bombshell shrugged. "More for me, then."
The Asian woman finally opened her mouth. "If you get grease on my armrests, you''re gonna clean it yourself." she eyed Bombshell angrily, but the villain was unaffected, smiling wide at her as she took a bite.
"Ah, Scott, this is Golden Geisha." she spoke threw chews. "She''s Doctor Demise''s partner, this is her car."
"I know who Golden Geisha is." Scott said, looking at the woman. "I covered her fight against System last month."
Doctor Demise looked from Bombshell to Scott, then back. "Covered?"
"He works for HeroHub. You know, the trashy cape gossip blog?" said Bombshell. Scott objected to her use of the word "trashy," but didn''t speak up.
"Ah." Demise leaned in to address Scott. "So you hate the supers, too?"
"Hate the supers?" once again, Bombshell felt the need to speak for him. "Kid''s got their posters on his wall. I''m surprised he doesn¡¯t have little Champion heads on his undies."
Scott did actually have a few pairs like that, but he wasn¡¯t about to admit it. Especially not with the present company.
"So if you don''t hate the supers," Demise folded her arms. "Then why join us?"
This time Bombshell let him talk, although he didn''t have a clue what to say. Honestly, he was far from sure of himself with this decision - he just couldn''t believe everything that was happening.
"I don''t know." he said finally. "I want to keep this power, and I don''t think the heroes would let me. Plus... I don''t know. I think they''d kill me if I went to them now..."
"Oh, they''d do worse." said Demise. "You''ve got a lot to learn about the heroes, friend."
Luiza stomped her foot on the ground as System inspected the crime scene.
"There is no reason this kid should be this hard to find!"
Both were in their superhero costumes, which was a pink and yellow bodysuit and goggles for Streak and sleek, dark black power armor for System. They''d arrived at Scott''s apartment building not too long ago and had spent some time at the front desk getting cleared to investigate his room. A few people had come down to make noise complaints and a very confused pizza girl was in the lobby too, so System had been able to get some information out of them in the meantime.
"The Dominos girl said she saw Bombshell and Scott on the bed." System crouched down, looking at the ruined mattress and shattered wooden frame. There were some bits of Bombshell''s bio-explosive, though they were dirty, which meant they were probably old. "Apparently, he wasn''t wearing any clothes."
"Lucky him." said Streak, playing with her goggles idly. "So what, they were fucking hard enough to break stuff?"
"Don''t be crass." System stood up and walked to the other side of the room, where there was a person-sized indent in the wall and broken glass on the floor. Among the fallen posters were a few still-smoking metal scraps, which he scooped up and picked through. "They were fighting."
"Yeah, no shit." Streak whispered under her breath. "Supergenius brain at work here, folks."
"Lay out one of these posters." System said, gently taking one off the wall - it happened to feature himself, however it was an old photo back from when he had hair. He passed it to Luiza, then dropped the metal scraps in her other hand. "And lay all these pieces out with equal spacing."
Luiza did as told, moving her hands so fast that her gloves looked like blurs of pink. In a second, the hundred or so bits of scorched metal were neatly alligned in perfect rows on the turned over poster. System gestured for her to stand back, then extended his arm at the poster. A panel on his wrist flipped open, revealing a diode that scanned the metal pieces over, creating holographic duplicates of each. He aimed his arm at the air, the holographic copies moving with the motion.
"Reconfigure." he said.
The projections of light all moved together, slotting into place like pieces of a puzzle. Luiza raised an eyebrow in confusion - what was it supposed to be, a TV remote? Though there was a missing section where it had been blasted, System seemed to realize what it was.
"The failsafe." he said, shaking his head. "That explains how they were able to remove Futureman''s suit to begin with. But how did Bombshell get her hands on it?"
"Failsafe?" Streak asked. "What''s that?"
"Futureman created it, in case he was ever brainwashed, hypnotized, or otherwise turned against us." he explained. The hologram dissipated into streaks of light. "It utilizes a shock of hypercharged plasma to disrupt energy barriers and nanotechnology. The idea was that we could use it to set his suit back to a ''factory'' state, if that makes any sense."
"Sure." said Streak. "Hypercharged plasma, yeah, makes perfect sense."
"It''s clear to me now what happened." said System. "Whoever Scott Shuster is, he''s got the suit, and it''s coded to him now. And from the looks of it, he''s with Bombshell - by his own will or not, I don''t know. He appears to have a grip over the suit''s capabilities, so we can only hope he hasn''t discovered it''s true powers before we''re able to locate him."
System started walking off towards the door.
"Where are we going?" called out Streak.
"Back to HQ." he said. "That failsafe was the only one made, but I think I could create another. Futureman''s schematics should still be around. Come on, we''ve got to move."
Streak sighed. How come nobody ever told her about things until they became a problem?