I was sleeping, my mind soared through the boundless skies, the wind rushing past my face as I soared higher and higher. I felt alive, invincible, as if nothing could touch me in this ethereal realm where gravity was but a suggestion. Flying had become my escape, my solace in a world filled with chaos and uncertainty.

But just as quickly as the euphoria had enveloped me, it was shattered by the piercing shriek of my alarm clock. I jolted awake, sweat beading on my brow as the remnants of my dream slipped through my fingers like grains of sand.

I lay there for a moment, trying to shake off the remnants of the nightmare that lingered in the recesses of my mind. In it, James, that insufferable playboy with his two pregnant maids, had married my dear mother Rita. She had become one of his servants, her vibrant spirit crushed under the weight of his oppressive dominance.

Shuddering, I pushed the nightmare aside, reminding myself that it was just a dream—a twisted figment of my overactive imagination. But even as I tried to banish the images from my mind, they lingered like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over my thoughts.

Just as I was beginning to regain my composure, my phone rang, startling me out of my reverie. With a sigh, I reached for the device, my heart sinking as I saw the caller ID.

"Cloe," I muttered under my breath, the name tasting bitter on my tongue.

Cloe was my ex-girlfriend, a whirlwind of chaos and drama that I had been foolish enough to get involved with in the past. We had parted on less-than-amicable terms, and the mere thought of her reopening old wounds sent a shiver down my spine.

But before I could hit the ignore button, curiosity got the better of me. With a resigned sigh, I answered the call, bracing myself for whatever onslaught she had in store.

"Brightspark," her voice echoed through the receiver, tinged with a hint of desperation. "I heard your speech. It was... impressive."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at her transparent attempt at flattery. "Cut to the chase, Cloe," I snapped, my patience wearing thin. "What do you want?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and for a fleeting moment, I allowed myself to hope that she had finally seen reason and decided to leave me be. But then she spoke, her words dripping with honeyed sweetness.

"I want to get back together, Brightspark," she declared, her voice laced with determination. "I'll do anything—absolutely anything—to make things right between us. I have cousins that want to meet you. Betty and Johanna you can share us all"

"Hey, Brightspark wake up" Cloe voice changed to become bright and cheery. "It is not just me let me tell you how much even my family and I admired your speech. It was truly inspiring."

I blinked in surprise, caught off guard by her unexpected praise. "Thanks, Cloe," I replied, a hint of skepticism in my voice. "But what exactly do you mean by 'admired'?"

Cloe chuckled, the sound warm and melodic. "Oh, you know, we thought it was great. So great, in fact, that my friends and I have decided to sponsor you."

My eyebrows shot up in astonishment. Sponsor me? What on earth did she mean by that?

"Sponsor me?" I repeated, my confusion growing by the second. "What does that entail, exactly?"

Cloe's laughter rang out through the phone, filling me with a sense of warmth and familiarity. "It means we'll help fund your superhero endeavors, silly," she explained. "Anything you need, just let us know, and we'll make it happen."

I felt the walls closing in. Cloe's family were Republicans and believed that the only good Black man was a dead one. It was why we broke up. That and she wanted me to become one of those border patrol guards. As if I wanted to be armed with a machine gun and be paid bonuses per dead body I brought in I.

"That's... incredibly generous of you, Cloe," I replied, my voice tinged with genuine appreciation. "But I have to be honest with you. Captain Miller is in charge of all the money matters. You'd have to talk to him if you want to send funds my way."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, followed by Cloe's voice, filled with determination. "Consider it done, Brightspark. I'll contact Miller right away and make sure you have everything you need."

I couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. Cloe had always been a force to be reckoned with, and it was comforting to know that she was on my side.

"Thanks, Cloe," I said, genuine gratitude coloring my words. "I really appreciate it."

Before I could say anything else, Cloe cut in, her tone filled with excitement. "Oh, one more thing," she said, her voice practically bubbling with anticipation. "My family is throwing a major party on our boat this weekend. I'd love for you to come and meet my cousins, Betty and Johanna. It's going to be epic. Like i said earlier we all want to show you our support and my cousins have toys"

Before i could tell her in polite words to stick it up her ass her voice changed " Remember you can do anything to us and Betty and Johanna you can share us all.""

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. But I could be dead tomorrow and Betty had a ass you could bounce a quater off.

"Sure, Cloe," I replied, a hint of uncertainty in my voice. "I'll be there."

As I hung up the phone, a sense of excitement bubbled within me. Who knew what adventures awaited me at Cloe's family party? One thing was for sure—I was going to be heading into a orgy. I sent Miller a text to let him know I had Cloe's family support and tried to get back to sleep.

Just as I closed my eyes my phone began to beep and Captain Miller used his emergency override to talk to me on the speaker

"Things have escalated. Fly to the drone factory immediately. Now."

My blood ran cold as , a sense of dread washing over me like a tidal wave. Without hesitation, I sprang into action, leaping to my feet and racing to the window.

And then, it happened. The sky above my house erupted in a deafening roar as missiles streaked through the air, hurtling towards my home with deadly accuracy. I watched in horror as they smashed into the roof, sending debris flying in every direction.

There was no time to waste. With a surge of adrenaline, I grabbed my supersuit a painted set of body armour and took to the sky, leaving behind the wreckage of my once peaceful home. As I soared through the air, the gravity of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks. I was running away from missiles. Missiles! This wasn't exactly what I signed up for when I decided to try and become a mascot.

As I flew, my mind raced with a million thoughts. It was one thing to be able to fly, but quite another to have to constantly dodge cheaply made drones armed with deadly missiles. Any one of those missiles could spell the end for me, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear gnawing at the edges of my courage.

But there was no time to dwell on my fears. I had a job to do, a mission to complete. I had to get to the drone factory and find out what was going on. With a steely determination, I pushed aside my fears and focused on the task at hand. Getting to the drone factory alive. I buzzed into a alley full of homeless older people and

As I approached the drone factory, the sound of gunfire filled the air, echoing off the walls of the surrounding buildings. My heart pounded in my chest as I surveyed the scene below. A fierce battle was raging between the drones from the factory and the enemy drones, each side locked in a deadly dance of destruction.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

The factory drones outnumbered their adversaries, their sheer numbers overwhelming the enemy forces. My helmet detected the that. For every drone they destroyed, the enemy managed to take down almost three of their own, but it wasn't enough. The defending drones fought with an mechanical ferocity.

I watched in awe as the battle unfolded before my eyes, a testament to the power of technology and the ingenuity of mankind. And as I hovered above the fray, a sense of despair flowed threw me. The drug companies had bought congress and the drones they were using tonight would be replaced tomorrow or next week.

Missiles streaked from the enemy drones and my helmet began to show there price tags. 40,000 dollars the missile drones while the defending drones defending the factory had a price tag of 200 dollars each. You could buy 800 of the cheap drones for 1 of the drones sent to attack the drone factory. I blinked thinking that someone somewhere was going to be upset because all of there fancy drones were being shot down. Several of the fancy attacking drones launched all of their missiles at the drone factory.

Then all of the drones ignoring all the defending drones launched all of their weapons at the drone factory before begining to turn and try and ram the drone factory. A rain of missiles and drones began to make their way towards the drone factory. It was a awesome sight waves of flaming rockets and drones making their way to the factory as the defending drones attacked with mounted machine guns. The drone factory was soon reduced to a burning wreck

As I landed amidst the wreckage of the drone factory, the deafening cacophony of battle slowly faded into the background, replaced by the eerie silence of destruction. I surveyed the scene before me, my eyes widening in disbelief at the devastation that lay in its wake.

Above me, the sky was alive with movement as the remaining drones, battered and bruised from the fierce battle, soared towards their pre-set targets. It was a surreal sight, like something out of a dystopian nightmare, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease gnawing at the pit of my stomach.

But there was no time to dwell on the horrors of war. With a sense of urgency, I reached for my phone, the familiar ringtone of Captain Miller's call piercing through the silence like a beacon of hope.

"Captain Miller," I greeted him, my voice tinged with relief. "What's the situation?"

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, followed by Miller's steady voice. "Brightspark, I have some news about your mother," he began, his tone grave. "She was attacked by drones, but she's safe now. She's having one of her arms regrown as we speak."

My heart skipped a beat at the news, a surge of fear coursing through my veins. My mother, attacked by drones? It was unthinkable, unimaginable. But as I listened to Miller's assurances that she was safe, a sense of relief washed over me like a tidal wave. Rita was strong, resilient. She would pull through this, just like she always did.

"Thank you, Captain," I replied, my voice filled with gratitude. "I'll make sure to check in on her as soon as I can."

But Miller wasn't finished yet. "Brightspark, there's something else you need to know," he continued, his tone serious. "The drones you see heading out now? They're not just random targets. They're going after the drug companies' locations."

I felt a surge of excitement at the news. The drug companies, the very heart of the corruption and greed that plagued our city. If we could take them down, we could strike a blow for justice, for righteousness.

With a renewed sense of purpose, I set about preparing for my journey to Cuba. I knew that the drones Miller had launched would soon be destroyed, but it didn't matter. We had struck a blow against the forces of evil, and even we were all killed it would be worth it. Not that i was planning on dieing any time soon. I had too much to do. My ex girlfriend and her cute cousins were about to be unable to sit down on their asses for a whole week.

Miller gave me a knowing look "One last thing I want you to head to a new safehouse in the morning take a look at the news. If I am giving a speech and mention your violent behaviour towards females run for it. Do not try and contact me just run. If I mention your violence towards men your good to go. We have a safe house on elm street its in the sewer. Just take the second last manhole down." I shuddered the stories of the giant mutant rats eating the homeless alive during the last famine running throught my mind. I flew off and a small swarm of drones followed me.

The safehouse was a small tube cut into the sewer with a hatch. There was a blanket on top of a ledge. I cerawled into the tube and closed the hatch cursing my luck. I fell asleep frairly quickly and woke up to check if I was in trouble or not.

The tv blared as i checked the various channels

"As the world braces itself for yet another wave of chaos and destruction, a new name has emerged from the shadows, sending shockwaves rippling through the very fabric of society. Brightspark, a self-proclaimed super terrorist, has launched a brazen assault on several drug companies, striking fear into the hearts of all who dare to oppose him. With each passing moment, his reign of terror grows ever more bold and audacious, leaving a trail of devastation in his wake.

As I stand before you today, I cannot help but feel a sense of urgency and gravitas in the air. The streets run with fear and uncertainty, as the citizens of our city grapple with the harsh reality of a world gone mad. And at the center of it all stands Brightspark, a shadowy figure whose actions threaten to plunge us into darkness.

In recent days, Brightspark's attacks have grown increasingly brazen and merciless. His sights are set squarely on the legal heroin sellers, whom he seems determined to eradicate from existence. He seems to in particular target the youth out reach programme teachers. All of those who were charged with giving lethal doses to children between 8 and 11 have been killed. With each passing moment, their grip on power weakens, as Brightspark's relentless assault leaves no stone unturned in his quest for so called vengeance.

But words alone cannot convey the true extent of Brightspark's power and ferocity. Allow me to show you firsthand the horrors that have befallen our city, as captured by our brave cameraman on the front lines.

In this footage, we see Brightspark soaring through the skies with a grace and agility that defies belief. His eyes blaze with an otherworldly light as he unleashes a barrage of lasers, each one more devastating than the last. Tanks crumble beneath his onslaught, their armored shells no match for the sheer force of his will.

But even as Brightspark's reign of terror continues unabated, there are those who would seek to bring an end to his rampage. The noble heroin sellers, desperate to put an end to his reign of terror, have offered a staggering billion-dollar reward for his dead body. It is a desperate gambit, born out of fear and desperation, but one that speaks to the direness of the situation.

And yet, even as the world focuses its attention on the actions of a single man, other tragedies unfold unnoticed and unacknowledged. In a world wracked by famine and despair, the deaths of a hundred million Indians go unnoticed, their cries drowned out by the chaos and destruction unfolding before them.

As I bring my report to a close, I am reminded of the fragile nature of our existence. In a world gripped by fear and uncertainty, it is easy to lose sight of the humanity that binds us together. But even in the darkest of times, there is still hope. And as long as there are those who are willing to stand up and fight for what is right, there is still a chance for a brighter tomorrow.

And remember if anyone knows where this tyrant is send in your tips to the hotline. The number is up on the screen now. Remember there is a 40 million dollar reward for information leading to Brightspark's death.

I winced for the amount of cash they were offering for me my mother would be tempted. But as I was her only living child I could trust her. But the rest of my family would drug me and send me screaming to be killed so I would have to avoid them . But what about captain miller it was a lot of cash. Captain Miller would be tempted but then again he was the one who launched the drone strike. As I was the one getting the blame I could trust him to want someone he could blame for everything. He needed me alive. I pulled out a burner sim card and changing it for the one in my phone gave captain Miller a call.

I punched in Captain Miller's number, my heart pounding in my chest as I waited for him to pick up. After a few rings, his voice crackled through the line, cutting through the chaos of the day.

"Brightspark, what's the situation?" Miller's voice was brisk and to the point, as always.

"Captain, it's getting out of control out here," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady despite the rising panic. "The press is painting me as some kind of... I don't know, deranged lunatic."

Miller let out a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. "I know, Brightspark. It's all over the news. They're saying you're the type to kill and eat cats alive, that you impale your enemies like Vlad the Impaler, and that you have a thing for eating bugs and stealing candy from babies."

I couldn't help but let out an incredulous laugh at the absurdity of it all. "Captain, you know that's not true! I'm just trying to do my job, to protect the city from the real threats out there."

"I know, Brightspark, I know," Miller replied, his tone sympathetic. "But unfortunately, perception is everything in this business. And right now, the public is scared of you."

I sighed heavily, running a hand through my hair in frustration. It seemed like no matter how hard I tried to do the right thing, I was always one step behind the rumors and the chaos.

"But there's a silver lining, Brightspark," Miller continued, his voice brightening slightly. "Because everyone is so scared of you, the invasion of Cuba is going far better than expected. The enemy is trembling in their boots at the mere thought of facing you."

A surge of relief washed over me at Miller's words. Despite the absurdity of the rumors swirling around me, it was reassuring to know that our efforts were making a real difference.

"And there's one more thing," Miller added, his tone taking on a more playful edge. "Your mother is looking at wedding dresses."

I blinked in surprise at Miller's words, my mind struggling to process the sudden shift in conversation. "Wedding dresses? For my mother? Who is the unlucky idiot?"

"I'm not sure, Brightspark," Miller replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "But whoever he is, he must be one brave soul to take on your mother."

As I hung up the phone, my mind whirled with a million questions. Who was this mysterious suitor? And what did he want with my mother? I was certain she was not foolish enough to marry James right?