12:45. Sunday, November 19th, 2023. Rocket Cafe on Main Street, Midport.

“Midport is hell.” Zeke said.

At the local arcade, Zeke and his friend Sean were playing Skate Racing Turbo. A two player racing game starring brightly colored riderless skateboards with fireworks taped on top. The game was controlled by rapidly pressing one of three buttons which corresponded to three different fireworks rigged to the skateboard.

The middle firework was the biggest and controlled the acceleration of the skateboard. Rapidly pressing the middle button would make the board go faster but be harder to steer. The left and right fireworks were controlled by the left and right buttons.

“How many times do I have to say this, it isn’t hell? It’s safer than your average gentrified college town.” Sean replied. He was playing as a blue metallic skateboard with arrows etched onto the top and golden fireworks soldered on like they were thrusters on a spaceship.

“Good downtown, movie theater walkable from some nice restaurants.” Sean continued. “Literally in what world does hell have an actual functional arcade?”

Rocket’s Cafe wasn’t a traditional arcade, but was indeed functional. It was a relatively cramped space with only three machines, a tv, two tables and a couch. All the games were free but you had to pay by the hour. Also no outside food or drinks. It seemed to rely mostly on foot traffic and the regular video game tournaments it hosted to make a profit.

Zeke had been coming here with Sean since they were still being driven by their mom’s back in middle school.

“Yeah sure, so nice. So great. That is why it is under the thumb of a psycho wannabe villainess.” Said Zeke. He was playing as an orange skateboard with black flames etched onto it. The duct tape on its fireworks were stylized to resemble caution tape.

“Didn’t her group just raise a bunch of money for charity? I mean when they first came on the scene they were pretty bad if you had like, i dunno, a package store or a gas station since they used to get into all kinda of BS. But that was like a bajillion years ago.”

Sean’s car hit a ramp, and he started to press on all three buttons at once to extend his air time, when he landed he got a boost in speed and ten “kewl poyntz” according to the in-game announcer.

“I’m not mad that they used to be a bunch of losers who would smash mailboxes. I’m ticked because they run this town and nobody seems to care because they don’t bother anyone.”

His skateboard hit the same ramp, but rather than hit all three buttons, Zeke tried to hit just the left and middle buttons and his board started to spin. He couldn’t stick the landing though and he got a “luzer penalty”. Whoever made this dumb game was trying way too hard.

“Dude, Zeke, that is like a total contradiction. People don’t care about them because they don’t actually run this place. If you don’t mess with them they are completely harmless. It isn’t like they ran the cops out of town.”

Sean almost at the finish line. Zeke was mashing the accelerate button as much as he could to try to make up the difference.

“Yeah harmless, tell that to all of the people they beat up who challenge them. Betcha they’d beg to differ.”

Zeke landed on an item causing fire to pour out from the fireworks on top of the skateboard. He was catching up.

“Oh my god dude, that is like getting mad that mike tyson just punched someone in the face during a boxing match. They have, like, rules and shit.”

Zeke’s item wasn’t enough. Sean crossed the finish line with Zeke trailing him. He was so close and if he had landed his spin on the ramp earlier he probably would have won.

“Whatever, I am done with this game. Let’s do something else.”

“Sure, I’m always game for games, hit me with the good shit.”

“Alright but let me grab some water first.”

“Well we might as well grab some food if we are gonna take a break.”

There was another kid behind them who they let have a turn on the machine. Zeke bought some overpriced water, a few bags of chips, and some pastries while Sean grabbed one of the two tables.

“You know, if you hate the Graveyard Bashers so much why not call up those World Breakers you are always fangirling over and ask them to beat them up for you.”

“Don’t you think I have tried that! I sent them so many emails and even called them up on the phone. The lady I spoke with on the phone said that they don’t take down small-time villains unless there is a plan in place for the ensuing power vacuum. When I said that our local heroes could probably take care of it, you will never guess what she said to me.” Zeke ranted.

“If the city already has heroes then why don’t you ask them to defeat the villains.” Sean said.

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“Whatever, lucky guess.” Zeke said, dismissively.

Zeke could feel his ears turn red just thinking about the way the lady treated him like some kid. He was almost eighteen!

“You know that does bring up a good point.” Sean said.

“Yeah, what’s that?” Zeke said.

“Doesn’t it seem that Poltergeist’s crew keeps a lot of the more dangerous small fry away from Midport? Heck I bet even the dinky towns in the suburbs are pretty thankful for having her always send them so far away. I really don’t think someone like Juggler or Messenger could really manage that.” Sean said.

“That isn’t fair, the witch is an effing freak! She is way stronger than she has any right to be. And lately she doesn’t even fight, she just sends out her subordinates and they manage just fine taking on challenges and they are a lot weaker than her.”

The costume game had a few different permutations. The lowest stakes one being called Monster of the Week. A hero would declare themselves protector of a territory and other factions could challenge them. It benefited both parties because both sides got to practice using their powers which was a real boon for those who had combat-oriented talents.

What Graveyard Bash had settled into after they stopped bothering to cause mayhem was a mockery of that system. She could beat anyone to a pulp so nobody but the two local heroes ever bothered to challenge them. But by not acting like a villain and going full criminal they didn’t have to bother with law enforcement. It is just lazy.

If Poltergeist was a hero she could offer people assurance but instead they offered half-assed ‘charity’ work. And if you disagreed with how they operated they would just say to challenge them knowing full well that if Poltergeist went all out you couldn’t win.

This was Poltergeist’s kingdom and if you wanted to take it from her, you could do so at a set time and place.

The one good part of the poorly thought out rules they set was that you didn’t have to beat Poltergeist if she sent out one of her lieutenants, the fight is always an all or nothing thing.

“Okay so Poltergeist is some sort of demi-god. But here is an interesting question. Who is stronger, Messenger and Juggler or Mummy and Frankenstein?” Sean asked.

“Ugh, you are such a power scaling nerd.” Zeke responded.

“You are one to talk.” Sean said. Zeke preferred to think of it as ‘community threat analysis’ for the day in which Graveyard Bash falls.

“The obvious answer is it depends on the matchup. Juggler is an effing psycho and his talent would let him rip apart Mummy’s bandages. And Frankenstein would be a bad matchup for any slow speedster since he has super strength and that weird electricity thing which makes no sense to me.” Zeke said.

Juggler could control chainsaws and they didn’t need to have electricity for them to run. He had a habit of laughing anytime he launched them in the air. Honestly his whole vibe would really make more sense for a villain.

“I think I heard that Frankenstein is just a B- internalist and that he has control over the electricity in his body. The super strength is just a result of that.” Sean said. Zeke groaned at the grading system.

“People online can’t decide if the super strength is part of the electricity thing, like he is shocking his muscles somehow to be extra strong somehow, or if it is just a branch off from the original talent since.” Sean continued.

Zeke didn’t really understand how ‘shocking his muscles’ was supposed to make him stronger but figured it was just a branch off. It wasn’t unheard of for self-targeting telekinetics--or ‘internalists’ to the people like Sean who preferred the archetype system to call them--to learn to control other aspects of their body. He would be okay being wrong though about it though since he didn’t see how it made a difference.

“You know I hate that letter grade BS and archetype classification. Just use Danger Levels, it is literally what the government uses. Like seriously, people who want to theorize about triple S double plus are just talking nonsense, just say they have Danger Level 6. It is way simpler.” Zeke pleaded. Sean and him have had this argument a few times before.

“Well danger levels don’t cover everything, like people who have really rare automatic triggers tied to their talent’s activation. What about the crazy hat killer!” Sean said.

The crazy hat killer or the stupid hat killer was a hypothetical in which someone had the power to stop the heart for anyone only who was wearing a really specific, stupid hat while saying another specific and stupid phrase. Talent’s as a rule couldn’t normally affect human bodies outside of the talent’s user, but pure automatic talents were sometimes the exception.

All danger levels measure is how much damage their talent would do if it went rampage, or if they have an automatic type if it is easy to trigger. Because of that the crazy hat killer would theoretically get a low danger level even if it was deadly.

“That is just internet nonsense, there isn’t even an example of someone having a talent like that people can point to.” Zeke said.

“Well Danger Levels are just some random state bureaucrat's educated guess that you only learn if you bother to register.” Sean said.

“Everyone should register.” Zeke scolded.

“But not everyone does, and you only need to if you use your talent for work.” Sean said.

“That isn’t the point, you register because then you get access to training so you don’t trigger a rampage.” Zeke said.

“Don’t your all too great World Breakers have trainings like that? Why not just rely on them?” Sean asked.

It was true that the World Breakers did offer that to heroes, and they even offered advanced trainings and legal protection if one’s talent did go on a rampage. The real answer to why people shouldn’t just rely on them however was that they cost a lot of money. And since a lot of kids awaken their talents while still in highschool it wouldn’t be fair to have them cough up the cash.

“There is one thing that the state’s training offers that the World Breakers don’t.” Zeke said.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Sean asked, incredulously.

“You get to do your civic duty!” Zeke declared.

“Ugh! You are such a goodie two shoes!!” Sean said. Zeke laughed.

“Of course I am.” Zeke said with a smile. He put his hands on his hips in a mock good guy pose. “What kind of hero would the Midport Messenger be if he wasn’t?”