After filling out some information, Andy had a video call with a Herofund representative to confirm his powers. Before long, SteelStar had a Herofund page up and running as well as a Noteline page if potential fans wanted to follow him. Soon, Andy was almost ready to go.
Wearing his costume and grey skinned Valtarian form, Andy packed a change of clothing into a duffel bag. When that was done, he looked around his room, wondering how long it would take to afford a house or apartment of his own. His gaze wandered nostalgically over his TV, game console, computer, bookshelf, closet, and toy chest. Would he be moving these things before too long? Maybe.
Posters of his favorite movies and video games lined the walls, and a few of them showed the superheroes he looked up to—one for Paramount, one for Blacksting, one for Spectramancer, and most importantly, one for MagKnight, his father. As excited as Andy was, a part of him did feel a little nervous. Could he really live up to such legendary heroes? There was only one way to find out.
Taking a deep breath, he pulled out his phone and made a call.
“Hey Brian,” said Andy. “I’ve got some news. Today’s the day.”
“Seriously?” said his childhood friend over the phone. “You’re actually doing it?”
“I’m actually doing it,” said Andy.
“Oh, dude, I’m so jealous. Congrats. So, naturally, once you’ve saved some people and caught some bad guys, we’re going to meet up to celebrate, right?”
“You got time for that?”
“Oh sure,” said Brian. “They won’t assign too much homework this early. We can meet at my dorm and order pizza. I don’t think my roommate’s ready to know your secret, but we can tell him we’re celebrating starting college. Yay.”
The yay sounded half-hearted. Brian used to talk about getting a superpower of his own and them being superheroes together, but nothing had ever materialized. Andy wondered just how jealous he really was.
“Sure thing, dude,” said Andy. “Sounds great.”
“Awesome,” said Brain. “Well, I’m sure you’re eager to get started. I won’t hold you up. See you later.”
“Yeah, thanks. See you.”
He hung up and then looked at a photo on his computer desk. It showed six individuals. There was Andy himself standing beside Brian, a skinny kid with brown hair and freckles. Around them stood four other individuals. There was a muscular young man with a tan, a large and muscular young man with dark skin, a petite young lady with light skin and a bright smile, and a brown skinned young lady with an athletic frame. The others were Andy and Brian’s old Valtarian friends. They’d already left home to go be superheroes, and Andy missed them a lot.
“Just wait, guys,” said Andy with a confident grin. “It’s my turn now.”
Andy took a deep breath. It was time to begin. Andy put his phone in the duffel bag and stepped to his window, letting himself out before closing it behind him, using a magnetic pull to lock it. Hefting the duffel bag over his shoulder, Andy looked up at the forest behind their house. There, he could see the sun just beginning to rise over the treetops as it cast long shadows over the earth. It was the start of a new day, and Andy couldn’t wait to get started.
From this moment forward, he wasn’t going to be Andy Gatlin. He was now the superhero SteelStar, and as he turned to metal and flew into the air, he soared over the houses with a smile on his face.
***
In his metal form, after hiding his duffel bag behind a billboard, SteelStar flew high above Partition City, so named because of a river that ran right through the center of it. SteelStar could see that river from high up, rippling water with a few bridges going over it. Down below, SteelStar could see the tops of skyscrapers and cars moving through the shadow covered streets, no more than specks at this distance.
SteelStar paid close attention to two things. The first was a technique his father taught him to sense electromagnetic energy in his surroundings. While the most basic use of this ability was to sense nearby living things or electronics, they could also sense a certain signature that implicated severe emotional distress. Things like accelerated heart rate, breathing, and hormonal imbalances from fear slightly altered one’s electromagnetic signature. Neither SteelStar nor MagKnight could read emotions the same way someone like Spectramancer could, but they could at least tell when someone was in distress and go help.
The second thing SteelStar watched was his smartwatch, which was standard equipment for a superhero these days. Using the app Dangerwatch, people could post about dangerous situations such as robberies or mutant attacks. While this was useful for avoiding such things, superheroes used it to find trouble. SteelStar hadn’t seen any alerts so far, but as he flew over the city with a confident smile on his face, he figured it wouldn’t be too long.
After the first quarter of an hour, he was still optimistic. After a half hour, he started feeling a little impatient. After forty-five minutes, he was frowning as he soared through the sky. When he’d been out there for over an hour, he sighed in frustration. To pass the time, SteelStar practiced some flying maneuvers, lay on a few rooftops staring at the clouds, sat cross-legged and levitated in the air as if meditating, and even let himself free fall for a moment only to stop himself right before hitting a sidewalk. He made sure to sense electromagnetic signatures below so he didn’t land on anyone. After so much time with no crime to fight, he was getting really, really bored.
As he lay with his metal face up, hovering in the air, a high-pitched voice said, “Hey, mister, are you a superhero?”
Andy turned his head to see a small child holding his mother’s hand as they waited to cross the street. The mother looked at SteelStar with mild interest as the new superhero floated there.
“Well,” said Andy, “I’m not a hero if I haven’t saved anyone, so... not yet.”
“Oh, okay,” said the child.
As the walk sign lit up, the mother walked with her son but said to SteelStar, “Good luck.”
“Thank you,” said SteelStar, waving.
Finally, after a few more minutes of flying over the city, SteelStar sensed something. He zeroed in on the electromagnetic signature, leading him to a back alley. Sure enough, SteelStar saw a man in a suit being held at gunpoint by a man in all black, a mask over his head. SteelStar dove and landed next to them, his boots clanking against the concrete, causing both the man and his attacker to jump in surprise.
“You…you’re a…” The gunman stammered. “Stay…stay back. I’ll kill him.”
“No, you won’t,” said SteelStar, grinning as he held up his hand.
SteelStar created a magnetic field, and as the gun went off, the bullets were pulled away from the man and towards SteelStar’s hand, sparking harmlessly against the gauntlet. SteelStar extended the field and yanked the gun out of the robber’s grasp. The gun flew a few feet, and SteelStar caught it, grinning confidently.
The crook ran immediately, but SteelStar threw out his other hand and unleashed a nonlethal electric blast. A little electricity leapt from his fingertips and danced up and down the would-be robber for a second or two before he fell face forward, unconscious. SteelStar flew over and knelt next to the man, placing his hand on him to check for life signs. SteelStar could feel electricity going to the man’s heart and lungs and concluded that he was fine. The young superhero had just executed a perfect nonlethal takedown, making him feel a swell of pride.
“Whoa,” said the man who’d nearly been robbed, still shaking in his suit. “You’re a superhero. Thank you. Who are you?”
SteelStar grinned, standing up and facing the man he’d just rescued. He transformed into his gray-skinned, white-haired, and blue-eyed form to look more human.
“You can call me...” SteelStar paused for dramatic effect. “SteelStar.”
***
Paramount flew high above, keeping an eye on Spectramancer. The other superhero could be seen as a speck of yellow light flying above the landscape. Paramount was so high up that there were clouds parallel to him, all to keep Spectramancer from sensing his emotions. The man would probably resent Paramount following him. Spectramancer had promised that he’d keep himself under control, but Paramount was still worried.
Suddenly, Paramount got an alert on his smartwatch, the beeping sound catching his attention. Checking the alert revealed a pack of seven mutant bulls the size of houses rampaging towards a city and trampling everything in their path. It wouldn’t take long for Paramount to get there, but then he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on Spectramancer. Then again, he might not have to. Paramount saw Spectramancer respond to the alert, offering to go there.
Paramount hesitated. On the one hand, that would get him away from Morphic Man, the one who nearly set off his anger earlier. On the other hand, the last time Spectramancer lost control also involved mutants. A mutant had killed a civilian, setting off Spectramancer’s anger. Ultimately, letting Spectramancer confront either threat could potentially set off his rage.
After a moment, Paramount responded that he’d take the bulls. Spectramancer would be meeting with Elementus right now, whom Paramount thought highly of. Morphic Man wouldn’t show up for another few hours, so if he was quick, Paramount could deal with the mutants and get back before that conversation happened.
So Paramount turned around and sped in a different direction. Picking up his pace, he soon hit top speed with a sonic boom.
***
Spectramancer flew through the air, the yellow aura around his body filling him with joy and contentment. When he channeled this ability, everything just seemed better. Colors were more vibrant, sounds were more beautiful, and everything that made him feel sad or depressed just faded to the back of his mind. Below him, the forest stretched out until it met a gigantic crater in the distance. That was where Redwell City used to be, and the size and scope of this crater filled Spectramancer with a sense of awe. He couldn’t even see the other end of the crater as it stretched past the horizon. With this power running through him, it was easy for Spectramancer to sink into contentment even when thinking about the destruction of Redwell. At least they’d never have to work or feel pain again.
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It took all his willpower to remind himself that what happened to Redwell City was a tragedy. Spectramancer’s abilities were potent, but they were powered by emotions, and if he wasn’t careful, he could get swept up and let the emotions control him. Getting too immersed in a particular feeling could drastically alter his judgment, but using the power of joy to fly was one of the most dangerous. One could forget that they were even in danger when channeling that, so maintaining the right frame of mind required a significant amount of will.
Soon, Spectramancer saw what he was looking for. About a mile away from the crater lay some news vans. For the past few days since the incident, they’d been waiting here to interview any superheroes that showed up. As Silent had promised, Elementus was there, surrounded by a small army of reporters. Spectramancer didn’t see any other superheroes, figuring that the arrival of new heroes to the scene must have slowed down by now. That was good. Spectramancer hoped to avoid any distractions.
Elementus was a tall, blonde, muscular man with sculpted cheekbones, a cleft chin, and an earnest expression. His costume was an ocean blue with green on his chest, shaped like the Earth’s continents. He faced the press with a friendly, amenable expression, addressing their concerns patiently.
For a moment, Spectramancer thought about how nice it would be to talk to the press. He could tell them about everything good in the world. Once again, he reminded himself that this was his power talking. If Spectramancer got caught up in talking to journalists while channeling joy, he’d be there all day. Instead, he placed himself where Elementus could see him and waited, hoping to catch the man’s attention.
On the ground, Elementus answered questions.
“No,” said Elementus. “I was nowhere near Redwell City, despite what rumors you may have heard. I’m just here to pay my respects and investigate. No, I haven’t found any clues for who’s behind this just yet.”
Then he saw Spectramancer flying above and waving. Elementus quickly excused himself and asked the reporters to back away. Moments later, Elementus generated a roaring whirlwind around his body, sending dirt flying in a cyclone as he flew into the air. The whirlwind carried him up to the Spectramancer, who signaled for him to follow. The pair flew a few hundred feet away from the news reporters before landing in a clearing not far from the massive crater.
Elementus’s whirlwind disappeared, the rushing roar fading to silence. Spectramancer, meanwhile, lost his aura and shivered. It was always disorienting to let that power go. The world just seemed darker without it. He calmed himself, took a deep breath, and faced Elementus.
“Hi,” said Elementus, offering his hand.
Spectramancer shook Elementus’s hand and said, “Hello. Elementus, right?”
“Yeah,” said Elementus. “It’s nice to meet you. I mean, it would be nicer if we weren’t meeting at the sight of... that.”
He waved at the crater, and Spectramancer paid close attention to the man’s emotions. He sensed a hint of frustration, but mostly concern and sadness. Elementus was as heartbroken about the destruction of Redwell City as anyone else.
“Yes,” said Spectramancer. “Tragic, indeed. Listen, I’m sorry to ask this, but... Were you in Redwell City the night it was destroyed?”
Elementus sighed.
“Everyone’s been asking that,” said Elementus. “And like I’ve told everyone, I was planning to go there, but I never got around to it. I was nowhere near Redwell City that night… or the day before.”
He wasn’t lying. Spectramancer could always tell when people were lying. The most obvious sign was fear of getting caught in a lie, but even if someone was perfectly confident that he wouldn’t get caught, there was always a sign. If the emotion behind a statement wasn’t strong enough, that meant a lie. It was hard to feel strongly about something you knew wasn’t true.
Elementus believed what he was saying. The conviction Spectramancer sensed was clear.
“Alright, thank you,” said Spectramancer. “I’m sorry to interrogate you like this, but I had to be sure. Paramount spoke strongly of you.”
“Really?” said Elementus. “Thanks. That…that means a lot.”
Spectramancer sensed an overwhelming sense of admiration at the mention of Paramount.
“Look,” said Elementus. “If there’s anything I can do to help with the investigation, please let me know.”
Spectramancer smiled and said, “Thanks. I’ll do that.”
Elementus then activated his whirlwind and flew off, back to the reporters. Spectramancer looked around for a place to sit. According to social media, Morphic Man would be arriving at the crater a few hours later. All Spectramancer had to do was wait for the man to arrive.
***
A few minutes after SteelStar stopped the robbery, the police showed up to arrest the man responsible. The officers each shook SteelStar’s hand, thanked him, and were hopeful that the next time a mutant attacked the city, there’d be someone to deal with it other than them. SteelStar said he looked forward to it and looked out for his next crisis to deal with.
Over the next couple of hours, SteelStar managed to help a few more people. He stopped a store robbery, flew some people out of an apartment fire, and just barely made it in time to stop a car accident. He even, as the cliché went, rescued a cat stuck in a tree.
The most interesting thing that happened was a mutant scorpion the size of a bus that burst up from the sewers. That had been hard to deal with, as it had resisted SteelStar’s electricity, and its shell was durable enough to withstand his fists. A few times, the scorpion’s tail knocked him to the side, smashing up the pavement and somebody’s car. SteelStar, however, had managed to break the exoskeleton with his metal fist and electrocute the giant insect from the inside. By the end of that fight, SteelStar felt sore, and his jaw felt funny.
It was the best part of his day.
Finally, he got a chance to rest. SteelStar sat on a roof in his organic form, his feet dangling over the edge. So far, he was pretty satisfied with his progress. Having retrieved a duffel bag where he’d hidden it, he pulled out his phone and checked his Noteline account and his Herofund page. SteelStar found, to his satisfaction, that he’d gained a lot of new followers.
Those SteelStar had saved were spreading the word, and it wouldn’t be long before even more people heard about him. That giant scorpion was bound to hit the news soon. Things like that always caught people’s attention. Even his Herofund page already showed a few donations from people grateful for his work. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. SteelStar was well on his way to making a living doing what he loved.
One thing that didn’t sit well with SteelStar was a few people using his appearance to push the E.H.O.D.’s power user draft. Posts such as:
It’s nice to see a power user doing the right thing for once. Partition City is finally getting its own hero. Really, though, every city deserves a hero. That’s why we need the Power User draft!
And there were more like it, making SteelStar sigh. He was against a power user draft and had a lot of reasons to be. SteelStar followed news, online commentary, and VidVoyage videos as much as he could. With all the information at his disposal, SteelStar knew the issue wasn’t as clear cut as some people made it out to be. Power users made up a small fraction of the world’s population, and most of them did, in fact, become superheroes. Of the minuscule amount who didn’t, many had perfectly good reasons for not engaging in hero work.
For instance, there were people with useless powers, such as the power to temporarily give people allergies by touching their skin. There were people with dangerous powers, like a cloud of poison that surrounded you constantly, forcing you to live alone. And then there were those who had a perfectly good power, but also carried a debilitating disease or a mental illness. Such situations made hero work downright impossible. Last, but not least, there were those who adapted their powers in other ways, such as for medical use, assisting in food production, and even building. A man who could use telekinesis to construct a building was a godsend to a city destroyed by natural disasters. There was more than one way to help people, and as far as SteelStar was concerned, that should be enough.
And yet, no matter how good a reason someone had for not doing hero work, there were those who just couldn’t accept it. Sometimes, a power user’s identity would be outed to the public; illegal but inevitable. When this happened, if the person wasn’t a superhero, it wouldn’t be long before they were accosted by an angry mob. SteelStar had seen countless videos of people harassed and even attacked for not engaging in hero work, and the sight always enraged him. People feared the many threats out there, and it made them behave irrationally.
Yes, it was true that some people didn’t use their powers simply because they didn’t want to. SteelStar thought that was a shame, as he did feel one had a responsibility to use his powers to help people if he could. That being said, SteelStar didn’t believe that forcing the issue would end well. A true superhero would only be effective if he genuinely wanted to be one. Besides, the E.H.O.D. would oversee a potential draft. If half the things SteelStar’s father had told him about that organization were true, a draft was out of the question.
Of course, the real reason SteelStar was against a power user draft was something that hit close to home. His father had to quit being a superhero because of his own mental health. Furthermore, his mother’s people, the Valtarians, all had metal-transforming powers, and had suffered after their planet was destroyed. There were a few who worked as superheroes, including SteelStar’s childhood friends, but most just wanted to live in peace. SteelStar recalled relatives, aunts, and uncles crying during family gatherings when something reminded them of their home world. Once, SteelStar found his mother awake in the middle of the night. She’d been unable to sleep, plagued by nightmares of the past.
Would the power user draft target MagKnight and the Valtarians? Would it try to force Dad out of retirement and his mother’s people out of hiding? SteelStar was afraid it would, which was precisely the reason Valtarians presented themselves as human. The unwanted attention from proponents of the power user draft was something they didn’t want to deal with.
For all these reasons, SteelStar responded to this post, tagging anyone else he saw and using his name to promote it:
You can’t force people to do something, even if that something is a good thing. If someone’s heart isn’t in it, they won’t do the job well. Besides, you don’t know what’s going on in their lives or what problems they’re facing. People need the freedom to make their own choices because everyone’s situation is different. Who are you to decide someone’s future for them?
SteelStar sent the post, meaning every word. You had to be free to make your own choices. Why couldn’t people see that?
A few minutes later, SteelStar flew away, getting back to work.
***
“Mr. Powell, sir, the new superhero tag is lighting up on social media.”
News reporter Patrick Powell strolled to his personal office as his young, blonde, and pretty assistant handed him some papers. As Patrick looked it over, he found this new hero quite intriguing. Metal transformation combined with electromagnetic powers. That had to be a potent combination.
Then he saw SteelStar’s most recent Noteline post and rolled his eyes.
“Thank you, Janet,” said Patrick, going into his office.
He sat down in his cushioned office chair and sighed, throwing the papers on his desk. As Patrick rested for a moment, his gaze drifted to a picture on his desk showing two teenage boys, identical twins. One of them had been Patrick himself a long time ago. The other was named Sean, and he wasn’t around anymore.
Patrick remembered a meteor storm—one that would have destroyed a city were it not for superheroes working that day. Patrick was only fifteen at the time, but he remembered every detail of it. Giant balls of fire fell from the sky, blasting apart everything in sight. He remembered superheroes flying or running around, pulling people from harm, putting up shields, or just blasting the meteors away.
And yet, it hadn’t been enough. There just weren’t enough superheroes, and one meteor had gone straight for them. Sean tripped over some rubble in the chaos, getting left behind. Patrick turned around just in time to see a meteor strike Sean straight on, leaving nothing behind.
Patrick had managed to reach the shelter, an armored building on the outskirts of the city. There, he’d waited with the other civilians, shivering from the cold as he stared forward in shock. In his mind, he kept asking himself, over and over again, why wasn’t there a superhero to save his brother? They were out there saving so many people. Couldn’t they have saved one more?
And then, as he was sitting there in a stupor, he saw something. Floodwaters were approaching dangerously close to the shelter, getting splashed around by meteors falling outside. One group of people was about to be drenched by a wave when a man at the back of the group turned around and raised his hands. The wave was suddenly thrown back by an invisible force, splashing back into the floodwaters behind it.
Patrick remembered staring at the man in shock. Why was a power user hiding with everyone else in the shelter? The young boy had walked over and confronted him.
“Why aren’t you out there?” he’d demanded. “You could be saving people!”
The mousy looking man had held his hands up as people around them watched uncomfortably.
“I... I... I’d be no good out there!” the man had stammered.
“Floodgate is out there right now!” cried Patrick. “He’s using water powers to save people. Why aren’t you?”
“I’d be no good! I’d be no good!” the other man protested. “I’m just a janitor!”
Patrick gaped at the man in shock. “A janitor? A janitor?! You could have saved my brother!”
Patrick remembered hitting the man hysterically, shouting over and over again, “You could have saved him! You could have saved him!”
In the end, some in the shelter had restrained him while others shouted at the power user angrily.
As the adult Patrick Powell sat in his office, remembering that day, he sighed. There were so many problems in the world, so many dangers. They couldn’t afford to have power users sitting on their hands when people were suffering. So many people could be saved if all these power users would stop being selfish and use their powers for good.
Why couldn’t people see that?