1 YEAR AFTER WAKING
An arm broke under my fist, the elbow joint bending backwards with an awful crack. I let go of the screaming criminal, spinning around with a kick to the head of the one sneaking up behind me. He stumbled backwards and I kept up my momentum, spinning again and gathering shadows behind my leg. The added force of the darkness when my armoured boot made contact knocked him straight to the floor, where he stayed, unmoving.
I was almost finished. There were only two criminals left, standing at the far end of the room with their weapons raised. They seemed hesitant to approach. I didn’t blame them. The room was already filled with the limp, groaning forms of their fellows, and they surely knew by now that their fates would be no different. Still, I needed to take them down to complete the exam, and I wasn’t going to fail again. If they wouldn’t come to me, I would go to them.
I sent out a whip of shadow, wrapping it around one of the men’s ankles. The shadow flexed and shrank to my will, allowing me the leverage to pull him off of his feet and fling him around the room, using his body as an improvised wrecking ball against his friend. I released my hold at just the right moment to send the man crashing into the other criminal, smashing both of them against the far wall, knocking them out and completing my final combat exam.
After a few seconds of stillness, the door to the observation room opened. I took a deep breath, blowing out the leftover nerves and letting the adrenaline run its course. A pervasive nausea sat heavily in my gut as I left the exam room, as it so often did after a live combat training session. I hated the feeling of bones breaking under my strength; my victim’s screams ringing through my ears for days afterward. My combat instructor told me that many people feel ‘alive’ in the midst of a fight; filled with endorphins and running on instinct. I usually just felt overwhelmed and sick. Part of me was honestly a little surprised that I’d aced the exam this time around. I even kept my cool when the lights turned off, forcing my shadows to remain close and defend me until they came back on. I guessed all the extra training just paid off.
“Well done, Seven. You passed,” Father said, walking up to me. He’d been calling me Seven ever since my last attempt at the exam, though I didn’t fully understand why. He still called me Jordyn when we were alone in my room, but whenever we were out and about in the facility, I was only Seven. When I asked about it, he said that it was practice for when I’m deployed. I wouldn’t be going by Jordyn as a hero, either. He also said that I should start calling him Captain de Vygon or sir when in public, too. I was still getting the hang of it, though.
“Thank you, Fa-” I paused, clearing my throat. “Sir.”
He nodded. “Return to your quarters. Your dinner will be delivered; you may eat it at your own discretion. Make sure you rest well. Tomorrow, we will finalise your deployment.”
I lowered my head, insides buzzing with anticipation. “Yes, sir.”
With that, I turned and left, following Father’s command and heading straight to my room. Once there, I removed my armour, stretching out my sore limbs and sighing at the sensation of fresh air hitting my skin for the first time in hours. After that, I showered, spending an indulgent amount of time under the soothing spray of hot water, checking over my body for new bruises or cuts from the fight. I usually had a couple lingering around from training (or, in one case, banging my shin against my bed frame) and today was no exception. Thankfully, there was nothing serious. Nothing had pierced my armour this time around. That knife wound from my previous attempt had slowed me down in training for at least a month, and left a nasty scar in its wake. At least it matched the one on my face, not that anyone but Father or myself would be seeing it from now on.
The shower washed off the remaining adrenaline, but I was still restless; excitement at the prospect of finally leaving the facility overtaking all else. I tried reading a book to pass the time, but like always I just ended up doodling in the margins, drawing little pictures to chronicle my day. It was something I’d picked up in the past few months, when my training started getting harder and more painful, and Father became much stricter. There was a lot that upset me nowadays, and since I wasn’t allowed to express that out loud, I had to find other ways to get it out of me. The more I let it build up, the worse I felt, and that tended to affect my performance, which Father was always quick to pick up on. Drawing was the only effective way I’d found so far of releasing that pain; pouring it out through the pencil and onto the paper.
Dinner came and was eaten, the clock ticked onwards, and eventually I found myself growing tired. Even in bed, however, the sleep never came. Every time I thought about tomorrow, anticipation would shoot through me. I’d spent a whole year of my life in this facility, recovering from my accident, learning how to be a hero again, and tomorrow, I’d finally be allowed to leave.
I couldn’t wait.
—
Elevators were something of an enigma to me. I could count on one hand how many times I’d ridden in one. That very first day - the day I’d woken from the green - I remembered being carted into a small box in a wheelchair along with Father, and when the doors opened again, we were somewhere else. It only succeeded in worsening the state of abject confusion I was in. By now, theoretically, I knew they were just taking me to different levels of the facility beyond the access of the stairs in my section, but the novelty had as of yet failed to wear off. Being able to get from one place to another without moving was always mystifying to me.
Today, however, I had to contain my excitement at getting to ride in one. I was at Father’s side, travelling upwards out of the facility for the very first time. He had told me not to expect much action for my first day; he wanted to get me used to the city and my role before sending me on any solo patrols. Should anything exciting happen, it would be the police tracking down a suspect and sending me to apprehend them. As much as I disliked combat, the prospect of any sort of change to my schedule was enticing.
The elevator finally stopped moving, and the doors in front of me opened to a wide, dimly lit concrete room. I followed Father out, stepping around the large, metal, wheeled things lined up in rows all over the place. The urge to ask what they were was strong, but I knew better than to speak without permission. If it was important, Father would tell me in time.
Eventually, we stopped at one of the metal things. It was all black, quite boxy in shape. Father stepped around one side of it, and when I went to follow him, he paused, looking at me with a confused expression.
“Oh, of course,” he said, a wry grin forming on his lips. “You’ve never seen a car before, have you?”
“This is a car?” I asked. I’d read about them in my books, but due to the nature of the facility, I’d never actually seen one in person before.
“Yes. Get in on the other side.”
He showed me how to work the door, so I went around the car and followed his command, taking my seat next to him. He strapped himself in, then leaned over to do the same for me, instructing me on how to do it for myself. The day had barely even started and I was already learning so much.
As embarrassing as it was to admit, I did yelp a little when the car started moving, despite knowing to expect it from reading about them. My embarrassment was quickly replaced with awe, however, as we drove out onto the streets of the city.
I’d never seen anything like it before. There were cars everywhere, the roads stretching on as far as I could see, bordered by buildings so tall it was like they were piercing the sky itself. And speaking of the sky! I couldn’t believe just how blue it was! I’d spent my entire life surrounded by greys and whites and blacks. Seeing such a bright, beautiful colour stretching out above me was breathtaking. My heart was pounding in my chest from the sheer amazement alone.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” Father asked, no doubt noticing how enamoured I was as I craned my neck to see out the windows. “Welcome to Tombguard, the city of heroes.”
I turned and looked at him. “Permission to speak?”
“Granted.”
“Why is it called that?” I asked. “Isn’t that name a little… morbid? Aren’t tombs where people get buried after they die?”
“I’m glad you asked. It has to do with the city’s conception. A long, long time ago, there was… an entity, shall we say. A being of great power that roamed the earth, causing chaos and destruction, subjugating populations to Its will. They called It the Godling, as Its strength was second only to that of what we recognised as a God. It had the powers of creation and decimation, and almost anything that It wished would come to pass with a mere thought. The only thing It couldn’t control was the human spirit. It is said that the ancestors of the de Vygon family forged a blade capable of taking down this monstrosity. After a fierce battle, the beast was impaled with the blade, sealing away Its power. The family imprisoned It, deep below the earth, and this city was built around It to maintain Its cage. It is believed that the blood of the Godling still runs to this day, seeping into the ground and spreading through the earth, and that it’s what gives people like you their powers. That is why there are so many heroes here; proximity to the Godling’s prison increases the likelihood of a child being born with power, but there are also more monster attacks here than anywhere else on earth. The demand necessitates supply. Hence; Tombguard, the city of heroes.”
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For some reason, the thought of whatever ‘monster attacks’ were sent a shiver down my spine and had my hair standing on end, but I brushed it off. “The de Vygon family? You mean your ancestors were the ones who fought that thing?”
Father nodded. “Indeed. Though we no longer have access to the Godling’s prison. That honour passed to a different branch of the family, one that no longer bears the name.”
He sounded almost bitter about it. I knew better than to ask what that was about though, so I turned back to the window, taking in the beauty of the outside world.
—
Father took me on a tour around the city, showing me all of the sights, taking me down as many side-streets as he could so that I could start to learn the layout. I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage, though. The whole thing was like a maze! There were so many twists and turns, and after a while, a lot of it started to look the same. I supposed it would probably be easier once I got on top of the buildings, as heroes apparently often did. I’d just have to wait and see.
We were pulled up at a stop light when it happened. A shout from the side of the road caught my attention.
“Hey, stop! Thief!”
My whole body lit up with adrenaline. This was it! My chance to take down a real criminal! I looked to Father for approval.
“Go ahead, Seven. But be gentle. You want to make a good first impression, after all.”
I nodded, removing my seatbelt and all-but launching myself out the door. The commotion was happening outside of something Father had told me was called a ‘general store.’ There was a man at the door, angrily shouting, pointing down the street at another person who was sprinting away, something cradled in their arms. I wasted no more time, using my shadows to fortify my legs and propel myself forward.
Father had specified to be gentle, so I didn’t bother using my shadows for anything else, just crashing into the criminal and tackling them down to the ground, pinning their arms behind their back. Two loaves of bread and a carton of milk scattered across the ground in front of us.
“Ah! What the hell?!” the thief said, craning their head around to look up at me. It was a young man, probably not much older than me. “Please, it’s just a little food! I’m just trying to feed my family!”
I knew how it felt to go hungry, but that didn’t mean I could go easy on this guy. He was a criminal, after all, and they would always try to spin a tale to convince me to let them go. I tightened my grip as he futilely struggled against it.
“Argh! What kind of superhero are you?! This isn’t your job!”
I wasn’t certain I had permission to speak, so I kept my mouth shut. Otherwise, I would’ve argued against that. This was what I had been training for my whole life – as far back as I could remember, at least. What else could my job possibly be?
“Backup is on the way to take him to the station,” Father said, approaching us. “Good work, Seven.”
“Thank you, sir.”
By then, a crowd had started to form, watching the scene unfold.
“Is that a new hero?”
“I’ve never seen them before.”
“That black armour is scary…”
“Are they working with the police?”
Father stepped around me, facing the amassing group of people.
“The show’s over, folks! Nothing to see here, just Tombguard’s newest hero doing her job. The police will be here soon, so I’d advise you all to clear out.”
The crowd took Father’s advice and dispersed, leaving us alone with the owner of the store, who came over and picked up his discarded stock.
“I’ve never heard of a hero working with the cops before, but boy am I glad for it now, Mr…?”
Father smiled, holding out his hand to shake. “Andreas de Vygon, Captain of the 23rd precinct, and the handler of our newest superhero; Seven.”
“Well, thank you, Captain. Thank you both. I’ll be sure to let everyone know that the 23rd has the backs of us business owners, unlike the rest of the Heroes’ Union, those freeloading bastards.”
Father laughed. I had to take a second to process it. I didn’t think I’d ever heard him laugh before.
“Oh, I assure you, Seven is not part of the Heroes’ Union. She actually helps the city.”
“Ha! You said it! Well, I’ll see you around. Feel free to stop by anytime for a discount!”
The man left, and the police arrived not long after, rolling up in one of those black and white cars I had seen after departing from the facility elevator. Two more men stepped out; one in a blue uniform, and the other dressed a little more casually in a button-up and trenchcoat. Both of them peered at me curiously before approaching.
I let the one in blue take over in handling the criminal, finally climbing to my feet and returning to Father’s side, where the other man was. His light brown, grey-streaked hair was messily slicked back, and the lower half of his face was covered with stubble. He looked me over with an unparsable expression.
“So,” he said. “This is Project Genesis, huh? Shorter than I thought they’d be.” His voice was husky and deep.
“This is Seven, Detective Matthews,” Father corrected. “The product of Project Genesis.”
Detective Matthews grunted. “How’d you convince a hero to work with us, anyway?”
“That’s confidential, detective. Now, don’t you have a shoplifter to process?”
He sighed. “Yes, sir.”
A loud crash from down the street caught everyone’s attention. My heart felt like it stopped in my chest at the sight of what caused it.
It was like a section of the ground itself had come alive. A huge, pinkish mass of tentacles and eyeballs rose out from a destroyed section of road, coated and shielded by the concrete and asphalt sticking to its blotchy skin. It thrashed at everything around it; ripping out lampposts, throwing cars, smashing buildings, enraged at the sheer concept of life itself, not able to comprehend why it had been forced to be.
Why has it been forced to be? It thinks this is a question one should ask itself, little shadow.
…What? Whose voice was that? The words echoed through my skull like a concussion; their source utterly unknown but their sound viscerally painful; a thousand nails driving their tips into my brain with every syllable. As quickly as it had begun, however, the words and their suffering disappeared, and I was left to wonder if either had even existed in the first place.
“Are you afraid, Seven?” came Father’s voice from my right; deep and solid and beautifully real, tearing me back into the physical world.
“N-no,” I lied, the word cracking as it came out. In truth, the sight before me was almost petrifying. My entire body screamed at me to run, flee, hide from the impossible thing wreaking havoc down the road.
“Do not lie to me,” Father replied.
I sucked in a breath. Perhaps honesty was better than feigned confidence in a situation such as this. “Yes.”
“I expected you might be. It was one of those… things that injured you in the first place. I’m not surprised that an instinctive fear has persisted, in spite of your… memory loss. Don’t worry, your job is here. The Union will deal with it.”
As if summoned by his words, it was then that I saw two figures in the distance leap off of a nearby rooftop towards the creature. A huge shard of ice materialised from nowhere, skewering the monstrosity straight through. It swung a tentacle at the heroes, but they suddenly disappeared, reappearing on the ground a little ways away. The fight continued on like that - ice spear, dodge, ice spear, dodge - until the thing was nothing more than a limp chunk of flesh, leaking water from its death wounds. They made it look easy.
All of a sudden, the two appeared right in front of us. One of them flinched away from the other.
“Fuck! I told you not to do that, Viv!”
I was starstruck.
Standing before me was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I didn’t know why, but it felt like my insides were tearing themselves apart with need just at the sight of her alone. Her outfit was mostly white, made of a seemingly thin material that didn’t really leave much to the imagination, with a mask covering the top half of her face. Her blonde hair was shaved at the sides, but longer on top and at the back, messy and streaked with darker brown. Her downturned lips were a pale shade of pink; soft and enticing. I couldn’t explain it. I couldn’t justify it. There was just something in my very being that wanted to be near her in any way possible.
The other one - Viv, I presumed - put her hands up in apologetic surrender. She wasn’t wearing a mask at all – in fact, both of them were showing a lot more skin than I thought heroes were allowed to, based on what Father had told me. Her red hair was shorter, tousled and hanging loose from a small ponytail, no doubt messed up from the fight. She was quite pretty, too, but she didn’t have the strange allure that the other woman had, for whatever reason. She turned back to us.
“Hey, Uncle Steve!”
Detective Matthews cleared his throat. “Good morning, Vivienne. Nice work out there. You too, Madeline.”
Madeline. The name rang through my head like a bell. I felt like I was forgetting something.
“Thanks!” Vivienne turned to me. “So, a new hero, huh? What’s your name?”
“We’re done here, Seven,” Father said, putting a hand on my shoulder and guiding me back to the car. I tried to crane my head around to get another look at the two heroes, but a spark of sharp pain at the back of my neck reminded me of what happened when I disobeyed, so I quickly gave that up.
It was only when we were back in the car, buckled up and moving away from the scene, that Father spoke again.
“You should watch out for those other heroes, Seven. They’re freeloading scum whose only contribution is showing up once a month when those monsters attack and taking all the glory for killing them. They’ll try to corrupt you with promises of wealth and camaraderie, but they can offer you nothing I cannot already provide for you. Especially stay away from that blonde one; Madeline. That’s an order.”
Of course. That was just my luck. “Yes, Father.”
“Oh, and while I’m at it, I might as well mention it before I forget. Kill the black-winged one on sight should you see it.”
With those cryptic orders, he fell silent and I was left to ponder what that could possibly mean, staring out the window, longing to feel the breeze on my skin.