Wakanda T’challa Jones opened his eyes and stared up at an unfamiliar ceiling. His slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position in the rather ornate bed he had been placed in. Looking around, he noticed several other beds alongside his, but they were all empty. He wondered for a moment if he had been kidnapped by some cult that had a hard-on for medieval Europe, but even if that was the case, he was glad.
“At least I don’t have to deal with the absurd expectations of my parents…”
He had been born to a tight knit family that had viewed him as the ‘African Messiah’, as they put it. His parents, grandparents and other assorted family members were beyond delusional, for they assumed that he alone would, as they put it, “Bring the White Man down to the level of mere slaves and make the world bow to the racial and cultural superiority of the Black Man!”
He knew they were delusional from a young age; about the age of 4, actually. He did unbiased research into every one of their claims, and every time their lies were found out to either be utter fiction with no grounding in truth or gross alterations of real history.
“Black People landed on the moon before Jesus was born!”
A Lie.
“Black People were the ones to discover the Atom, and they did it over 20,000,000 years ago!”
A massive Lie.
“Black People are immortal and omnipotent gods that are only kept down due to the deception of the White Man! You are destined to not only bring the White Man into slavery but render them extinct!”
A Lie that, if he tried to follow, would wind up with his death or imprisonment.
These were some of the things his family tried to hammer into his head, to no avail. Due to his family, he was hated by everyone that knew him. They all assumed that he believed their lies, which he didn’t. Still, despite all of that, he got good grades, all A’s even. He was an Honors Student, having performed so well that he managed to be moved from his inner-city school and live out his school life in a prestigious one. It was an amazing change of scenery.
If only his family didn’t routinely fuck him over.
Just as he was recalling his rather undesirable past, a man in old-timey Catholic-like fantasy clergy clothes walked in and seemed surprised that he was up.
“Ah, Hero, you finally awake! We were worried that you might not have survived that most unfortunate of events.”
“May I inquire as to what are you referring to?” Wakanda asked, being as polite as possible.
“Ah, I regret to inform you, but your Universe was ending, and in order to both save you and to save ourselves we summoned you away from your dying reality. We regret to inform you that you will never be able to go back, for your reality no longer exists.”
Wakanda studied the man’s face as he spoke. “Amazing.” He thought as he watched the muscles in the man’s face twitch involuntarily, a clear sign of lying for someone like himself to pick up on. “Every word of you just said was false.” Of course, he didn’t say it out loud, but the comfort he felt in knowing he would be able to avoid dealing with his shit family for a while was welcome, nonetheless.
Wakanda rose from the bed and before the priest could stop him, he had made it in perfect military style. He may have been 18 going on 19, but he had actually managed to learn quite a bit from his teachers, despite their disdain for him. He had slowly grown on them, despite their antipathy towards him due to his family’s grating behavior. Just barely of course, but he had grown on them. He had managed to graduate from school early with his high intellect and go on to college ahead of time. By the time he had earned his bachelor’s degree (just a few days before he had come here and a month before he would turn 19) he had learned a great deal and expected his teachers to eventually realize that he was not, in fact, as crazy as his family.
Sadly, he figured, he would never get that chance.
“So,” He asked, being fully aware of the various tropes he might find himself having to deal with, “What kind of threat is it? Demon King? Orcs and Goblins? Maybe other Humans?”
“None of those, I am afraid, although ‘Demon King’ is certainly not far off.”
The tone of the Priest’s voice allowed Wakanda to realize that the situation was either truly dire or that it was merely perceived it to be. It was impossible for the priest to hide the telltale signs of depression that he seemed to exude.
“Either that, or he just got demoted and is really, really upset about it.” Wakanda joked in his head.
“I think I understand. The situation is that bad, isn’t it? Can you enlighten me as to the nature of the threat you are facing?”
The priest merely nodded in affirmation and beckoned Wakanda to follow him. They would talk of what was happening as he went to meet his fellow Heroes.
…
Kevin Chad Smith could not believe his eyes. Sure, he had been upset when the fucking Jap was named a ‘Hero’ like him. After all, the damn Japs were nothing more than savage animals, or so his dad who served in the Pacific just a little while ago had told him. World War 2 was still fresh in everyone’s minds, having ended just a scant few years prior and the actions taken by the Japs were fresh in everyone’s minds, but he could tolerate the Jap bastard for now.
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It was the damn ****** that was grinding his gears. He absolutely refused to cooperate with a damn ******! Still, he was told that if he did manage to defeat the ‘Abominable King’ and his evil minions that he could do whatever he wanted and have whatever he wanted. He eyed the ****** and the Jap with malicious intent. He would have fun making these racially inferior animals know just who was on top!
“Now then, I would ask that you all help your fellow Hero discover what powers he has at his disposal.”
The priest walked away, leaving the chalky alone with the true Heroes and the Jap.
“It is a pleasure to meet you all. I am called Wakanda T’challa Jones. I am 18 years old, turning 19 in a few weeks. Yes, unfortunately that is the name given to me by my parents. No, I don’t like it. Please, I would ask that we take the time to become friends and work together to overcome the odds stacked against us.”
The ****** offered his hand like the stuck up little ****** he was, and Kevin swore to himself that he would make his life a living hell. If this ****** turned to the side of the villain, which he certainly would like the damn fucking shit-colored monkey he was, it would be all the reason he needed to make him his slave. He needed more of them anyways. The more property he had, the more use he could get out of his superpower.
…
Wakanda kept his eye of the one called Kevin Smith. He was, based on his speech patterns and actions, either a member of the Klan or some other White Supremacist group, despite his young age. As Wakanda attempted to mingle with everyone, he quickly realized something. Everyone, aside from Kevin, was from a different nation than him. Moreover, they each were from different time periods.
Wakanda had been from the year 202*, while Kevin looked to be from between the years 1945 and 1950. The others seemed to be from other parts of either from somewhere in the 20th century or the very early 21st century at the latest.
Everyone already seemed to have a grasp on their abilities, and he made sure to mentally note what they were and their uses/ drawbacks.
Kevin Smith, from the USA, had what Wakanda described as the ‘Fuck Everything Gun’. It seemed to function by Kevin offering some of Kevin’s property, that being of equal or greater value, as a payment for erasing a certain target. If there was not enough of an offering available, the ‘FEG’ would not delete the target, or would only delete part of it. Wakanda made sure to note that people could become property under Kevin, and thus people were available to be used as sacrifices. He also had the ability to use the ‘Four Elements’ of Magic, which effectively gave him a way to avoid using his ‘FEG’.
Nagato Yamagishi came from Japan and had a suit of Samurai armor and a pair of katanas that would increase his physical abilities by a great amount and superheat respectively. He seemed to be from just before the Soviet Union collapsed, and seemed to be rather enthusiastic about the whole situation he was in. He was powerless without the armor and swords, however.
Alice Wordsworth was obviously from the UK. England, most likely. She looked to be a rather arrogant and haughty teenager from middle school that viewed herself as above ‘all of this nonsense.’ Her power was that she could charm people to get what she wanted. It was very powerful, too. The priests and nuns in the monetary they were at had to wear special charms to hold back the power she had, and even then, they were still inclined to obey. Thankfully, Heroes seemed unable to use their powers against each other. She also had a limit to how many people she could charm at once.
Kristof Handel was from post World War 1 Germany and, despite what Wakanda expected, he was very cordial. He apparently had lost his father during the war and was very surprised to hear what his nation became after the time he was spirited away. He was of Gypsy and Jewish ancestry and admitted he was in the closet, which Wakanda told him meant that he needed to get out of Germany asap. He was able to take any melee weapon he came across and store it in a pocket dimension. Not only that, but he could use any melee weapon he came across as if he was an ancient master of dozens if not hundreds of styles with each. Lastly, he could launch the weapons from his ‘hammer space’ like a cannon. Once a weapon was brought out, however, it began to disintegrate rather quickly.
Jesus Mendoza was from Mexico and had as odd a childhood as Wakanda, but also quite a different one. His parents had raised him in the countryside and made him have the adamant and idiotic belief that every nation in the world aside from the USA was Communist. He could manipulate the temperature of the environment around himself to drop to 0 degrees Fahrenheit. The clergy hailed him as the ‘Second Coming of the Living Ice Age’, whatever that meant. Jesus was unaffected by the cold and used it to screw with Kevin to no end. He was, unfortunately for himself, unable to raise the temperature around him above 38 degrees Fahrenheit, keeping him locked in an eternal chill.
Vladimir Makarov was from a Russia just after the collapse of the Soviet Union. He was the second oldest, just behind Wakanda himself. He was repeatedly being accosted by Jesus about how ‘The Immortal Comrade Lenin’ was doing, which caused Vlad no end of misery. His power was that of extreme durability and heightened physical attributes, even without any gear. In fact, his abilities seemed to surpass Nagato Yamagishi even with his summoned armor. The downside was that he had too much power and had to continuously hold himself back or risk killing/ destroying someone.
Pierre Duchamp was from Vichy France, although he swore up and down that France had never been defeated and was still alive and well in the hearts and minds of the French people. He was overjoyed when he heard about the defeat of the Nazis but was equally upset when Wakanda told him that the French were now the butt of many jokes due to surrendering to the Nazis in so little time. He was able to manipulate plant life in absurd ways. He could cause vines and thorny brambles to erupt from sand, turn trees into walking wooden soldiers and other such things, but doing any of it required a great deal of concentration.
Wakanda, however, was initially displeased with his ability, as was everyone else. At least, he was until he began tinkering with it, although everyone else lacked still lacked any faith in it. He had the ability to create any object he could think of that obeyed the laws or reality. The only problem he ran into was that he could not make anything more than a 100% pure ore or 100% pure element. Worse yet, the materials he made were deemed useless by the clergy due to them ‘Having no magical potential’. Wakanda was upset that no one acknowledged the usefulness of his ability due to it not being combat focused, but he reckoned that if he tried to fiddle around with this ‘disappointing’ power, he could likely show that it was a diamond in the rough.
…
The days of peaceful training passed by without muss or fuss as the Heroes experimented with their gifts, all the while a figure watched them from beyond their sight. The figure let a small smile pass over his face for a split second before it once again returned to its emotionless natural state.
“Well, at least one of them shows promise. Matter/ Energy Creation will be a quite broken ability if he can use it to its fullest. Perhaps I should boom-box that song from one of the ‘Rocky’ Movies and give them a training montage?” Lord Wolfenstein said to himself. “Perhaps I should see how they react to something clearly above and beyond their capabilities. Just having them fight Darksol as they are now would be boring, so let’s give them a wake-up call and hurry their training along.”
With that, the figure of the entity calling itself ‘Lord Wolfenstein’ vanished. The future days would be… interesting… for sure.