As I stepped into the Mall, people noticed. The security guards were the first; one just gaped, the other was already pressing a panic button to notify his superiors. Then the shoppers and passers-by started taking note and the staring and whispers followed. Once upon a happier time they wouldn't have. At most, there would have been a few boys checking out the pretty blonde; a nice ego boost and maybe a laugh at some idiot making a fool of themselves.

Nowadays, a good-looking enough person wasn't just eye candy but potential danger or opportunity, so the stares multiplied. If most still were of the awed gaping variety, they at least had cause; even in jeans and a sweater, a seven-foot supermodel stood out. That wasn't the problem; the problem was the minority throwing apprehensive looks in my direction, or even angry scowls. People like the manager of the Urban Outfitters shop just ahead.

"I'm sorry Ma'am, but we're closed," the reedy, late middle age guy told me as I was about to enter. He was giving me a pretty furious scowl but his face was pale and the only reason his hands weren't shaking was because they were crossed, more like trying to hold onto something than anything else.

"Really?" I looked down at him - he was a foot shorter than me - to the shop's interior, then to the half open door behind him. "Because you have two dozen customers inside right now." I gave him a raised eyebrow and half-smile for good measure.

"I..." he paused, swallowed nervously, scowled. "We only just closed. We'll just finish with everyone inside... it's only polite... but... like... we really had to close just now."

"At nine thirty in the morning?" Now he was just being silly instead of saying what he really meant.

I'd heard of managers behaving like that; everyone who'd seen the news lately would have. The main reason I'd flown to Destiny USA, Syracuse all the way from New York was all the troubles over the past months, the Fulton mall burning to the ground, a riot starting when a shopper Awakened during an argument. I hadn't expected to stumble into just such a reaction on my first shopping trip.

"Be that as it may... we're closing now," the manager said defensively, then firmly flipped the sign on the door from 'open' to 'closed'. "Have a... err... nice day?"

"Oh, it was nice," I shot back before turning around and walking away. Making a scene was the opposite of what I wanted, and not just because it'd be a huge waste of time. Shopping was supposed to be relaxing, it was supposed to be fun, and it was something I'd really missed living on my own for months in Bumfuck, Nowhere. Arguing with idiots was not something to waste time on so I moved on to greener pastures, satisfied with the knowledge this would be almost a days' worth of lost sales for that guy.

Neither the manager nor anyone else at Macy's had any problems so the next few hours were spent trying to find some nice clothes that were also my size, a not inconsiderable problem when you're seven feet tall and more 'amazonian' than 'slim'. Everyone was very accommodating though, especially once the trickle of new customers ramped up into a flood of would-be fans.

Shirts, jeans, the occasional dress; it took dozens of tryouts for each bit of clothing that fit well, but I did not mind. Every outfit was committed to memory whether it fit or not, their style and cut stored for later use. Artistic talent was not among my powers but copying what worked was a time-honored tradition. In the end, I settled for the red strapless maxi that got the most catcalls - if you have it, flaunt it.

"Two hundred, ma'am, with the management's compliments," a smiling cashier that couldn't have been older than I was told me, though she looked younger. I returned the smile with interest as the cash changed hands; I'd been expecting close to twice as much. I got out of the store with a spring in my step, feeling better than I had in a long time...

...then the Mall's doors exploded.

xxxx

Have you ever seen those movies where the bad guy bursts through the front door and everyone starts running in a panic? There's lots of screaming, people frantically searching for a way out, sometimes stepping all over other people? My first supervillain attack (the invasion did not count) was nothing like that.

The guy did come in floating a foot over the ground, hands crossed behind his back, glass shards sliding down his bare chest. The only thing he wore was a pair of exercise shorts, if exercise shorts were made of tightly woven steel wire. His bare chest was impressively muscled, not in the fake way of bodybuilders but how serious heavyweight boxers or martial artists tend to look. He was also ridiculously good-looking, with twelve-pack abs, a chiseled jaw, baby-blue eyes and a face so symmetrical and flawless it looked the barest bit uncanny. In other words, he stood in my weight class looks-wise, except he was doing his best to show off instead of playing down his superhuman looks.

"We're all dead," a middle-aged brunette next to me whispered. "We're all dead and this is Heaven."

"Hey everyone!" Mr. Shirtless spoke in a deep, powerful baritone. "This is a robbery. You hand over the money and there will be no trouble. Just a small donation to the Yours Truly Appreciation Fund and you can go back to your shopping, no muss no fuss."

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Half the crowd moved to comply - most of them women - while everyone else stood there, watching. It took me a moment to realize that I was staring too... and not because of the low-key compulsion woven in the guy's words. Hey, you try living for months in the middle of nowhere, with zero contact or social media and tell me you wouldn't be a little bit distracted by superhuman good looks.

Setting aside my bag and the dress in a theoretically safe corner, I sighed and made a beeline for the gallant super-thief. It involved some elbowing, stepping of toes and much gnashing of teeth, but I persevered through superior size, reach, and the knowledge I was saving these girls from bad influences.

"Ladies, ladies! No need to push!" he spoke again and everyone seemed to calm down the moment they heard his voice; I revised my estimate of his vocal compulsion several ticks upwards. "You'll all have your turn; Mister Amazing is here for everyone!"

"Really?" I couldn't help but ask. "That's the name you're going with?"

"It's the unvarnished truth, fair lady," he told me, then did a double-take when what he'd just seen registered.

"We both know there were several layers of power-granted varnish involved in our looks," I shot back. Superpowers did take most people closer to their idealized self but usually you had to actively try for superhuman good looks. "That aside, you have superpowers now and stealing from a Mall was your first idea?"

"Bitch, please. It was a great idea. Nobody here is gonna miss a twenty or two when they're wasting hundreds on designer clothes. Besides, it's not as if they're gonna remember anything." He gave a smirk at the wide-eyed girl mechanically dropping five-dollar bills at his feet. Then he turned back to me, really took me in from head to toe and sneered. "Don't tell me you're one of those bleeding heart heroic idiots. Real power comes from taking, seizing things for yourself. Whether it is putting down some monsters or making money."

The longer he spoke, the more the pile of cash at his feet grew, the better looking and more muscular he became. Most people wouldn't notice, the change was small and slow... but I'd been specifically looking for it and good looks were far from the only thing I'd gotten from the Invasion.

"I was about to say the invaders' methods are not the only means we can be powerful but I see you already know that." I scowled and took flight to match him. "You already chose to do what you're doing. How disappointing."

"Of course I knew, you dumb bitch! Were you living under a rock for the past month?" He chortled darkly. "The secrets of powers have been all over the dark net for weeks now. Not even the government can keep it secret any longer."

"So that's why there's so few details on the actual invasion..." I mused then shrugged. Then I slapped him in the face. That wiped that stupid smirk off his face and dropped him on his pile of cash, curled up and moaning.

"Fuck! FUCK!" he roared, recovering faster than a normal guy would have. "How the Hell did you do that!?" He flew up at me erratically, pulling back to deliver a ridiculously telegraphed punch like you'd see in B-list action films. "I'll punch the shit out of you!"

"Cute," I said as he did just that, delivering blow after amateurish blow anywhere he could reach. Even under normal circumstances they'd have hardly been dangerous; as things stood, they felt like i was being hit by a giant pillow.

"This is bullshit! BULLSHIT!" he roared, picking up his pace a bit, alternating punches and kicks. "I can throw cars across half a block! Lift and carry Mack trucks. How are you doing this?!"

"Like that," I said and the moment his next punch landed he toppled to the ground, once more cradling his family jewels. "Whereas you wasted much of your power in toying with other people's minds, I invested mine in adjusting forces, including those you exert on me." I smirked. "To dumb things down for you, whether it's your punches or mine, I decide what they hurt."

"You think you're so smart, huh?" he spat back, floating to the air again. "Ladies? if she cheats again please murder each other." His voice echoed strangely and the whole crowd stilled. That was actually good; it meant he could only give one order at a time. His orders were also vocal and obvious. "What are you going to do now, huh?"

Instead of answering I gave him an actual punch. My fist sank in his gut with a meaty thunk, hurling him out of the Mall's broken entrance. His brief, involuntary flight ended all the way across the parking lot, through the perimeter fence and head-first into a puddle of mud. The few passers-by were shocked out of their stupor at the impact, shaking off the passive influence of the guy's presence then breaking into a run.

"You bi-AAARGH!" As he was getting up I was already there, kicking in his shin hard enough to crack. Not much of an impediment to a flyer, but it made for a brief distraction. Before he could give another command, I grabbed him by the jaw and lifted him off the ground.

"Not so amazing now, are we?"

Instead of speaking he punched me in the gut, which meant he could be taught. It was just enough of a push to get out of my one-handed grip, swing almost a full circle then punch my face as hard as he could. I shook off the sting in a moment while his knuckles broke against my nose.

"You... you're a S-Survivor! An Original!" he stammered, eyes wide, every bit of bravado vanishing as if cut off by a knife. I could hear the capitals as he spoke, saw his fear in his paling skin and quick glances towards potential escape routes. "I... I didn't know, I swear! Y-you didn't have any marks... n-not a Valkyrie... not one of Everyman's... y-you can't be an Iron Soldier... you got all the fleshy bits... you're a Spook? No, no, no, no... don't kill me! Please! Please!"

He broke down to incoherent sobs after that, terrified I was one of those Spooks and would disappear him. Nothing I said or did could break him out of the... I wanted to say 'hysterics' but it didn't really fit. Anyone who got powers, who could shape them to his desires, shouldn't be breaking down just because he'd suspected what I was. He shouldn't be terrified of what sounded like gangs with powers, not unless things had gone all twisted rituals and human sacrifice again... which they shouldn't have any reason to, with the invaders gone.

What the Hell was going on?