Hello Hello Summer City!
It's another beautiful day in our little jewel of a town. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping and Sovereign hasn't sent us all to the Void yet. What there isn't to love?
Lots of Super activity this week, in case you didn't notice. Of course, the big stuff is in Central, with the new-fangled Syndicate ducking it out with the ol' pals of the Hand. Not point in saying it, but the Heroes sent the Villains running with their tails tucked between their legs! And of course, Warfare made front page again. Who would have thought? I guess that being able to shoot rockets out of your hands has his perks after all.
But who cares of the big city? We have our own wonders here!
Just this week, Dr. Volt tried to take over the central, again. Can you guess with what? Honestly, I have no idea myself, but there was lots of electricity and pistons involved. You'd think the good doctor would start to mix it up by now! But a brand is a brand, isn't it?
Sure, he got his backside kicked by our own Elementals, again, but at least he did so with style!
Oh, and more Super are popping out. But that's just business as usual, isn't it?
Stay out of the Water, folks!
- From Radio Program "Hello Hello Summer City."
The town was nice and cozy. It nestled in a deep bay, like a little stone left there by the current and then polished until it sparkled.
Dark was surprised. He didn't expect to find it on his way. The city, with all its glittering lights and sky-defying heights, had seemed so much closer. But no, it was still long in the distance, this tiny, humble replica of it between them.
He guessed that his eyes played with him. Or maybe the stars were, the tophat suggested.
As he walked, the land changed. The waste of gravel and salt steadily gave way to more verdant places, until he was walking on a wide road, corn and mais going as far as the eye could see. It must have been almost time for the harvest. Rows of golden ears swayed in the breeze, like a giant hand was caressing the fields.
Dark hissed softly at the glaring sun in the sky. He was dark. He didn't like its light. It annoyed him, burned his eyes.
He pressed the hat, that agreed with him, deeper down, bowed his head and walked faster.
Farms dotted the fields, each to a great distance from the others. Great water towers towered around each, but their most striking feature was the massive warehouses around the central buildings. Voices rang out from them, alongside the rumble of heavy machinery.
Dark was watching one when the gates swung open. A building-sized tractor came out, each of its six wheels as tall as he was. Impressed, Dark watched the machine plow its way into the field. Masses of corn disappeared beneath the teeth jutting out of its front, only to get shot out of a tube leading into the giant cart the tractor dragged behind itself. Other two similar tractors followed, people moving around them like ducklings around their mother.
Dark was still watching the work, when something strange happened.
Like a cat springing an ambush, another machine emerged from the field. It had a cylindrical shape, the light glinting off its chrome, smooth exterior.
Before Dark's eyes, the thing actually detached itself from the ground and started to hover. It wobbled for a moment, like it was getting its bearing, before dashing toward the first of the tractors.
It had to be a danger because the people fell to panic. Some froze where they stood, others just bolted toward the farm. A few hefted big rifles, taking potshots at the thing. Most of the shots went wide or disappeared between the ears, but a few hit their mark. All they did was ping uselessly against the thing's armor, and that convinced even the few willing to stand their ground to run.
The flying machine reared up as it reached the tractor. A section of its underneath opened as it did so, metallic tendrils emerging from its sides. They stabbed into the tractor, breaking plates and bending steel. The driver barely managed to jump out before the piloting cabin was speared through by a tentacle.
Dark watched with morbid fascination as the chrome machine started to dismantle the bigger tractor. With mechanic efficency, it ripped messily at it, stuffing chunks of wire and scrap into the hole it had underneath, as if machine was eating machine.
It was… impressive. But why was that happening?
Dark was still wondering when a sudden jet of water hit the chrome machine. Taken by surprise, it wobbled violently, almost losing its grip over the tractor.
Dark looked toward the direction the attack had come.
A girl stood before the farm, her hands outstretched forward. Dark blinked at the way she was dressed. Her outfit consisted of a hero costume so shockingly blue it hurt the eyes. or at least, his eyes. Stripes of transparent material wafted from her shoulders, covered by thin spauldrons a different shade of blue; they slowly danced around her like they moved in a world underwater. Stripes of the same materials fell from her waist and covered her legs, forming something like a long skirt that reminded Dark of a jellyfish. A helmet-like mask, also blue, enclosed her head, with a tight mass of wavy blue hair cascanding from beneath and down her back. Two fin-like protrusions stood at the top of her head.
She was a big splotch of sea-deep blue thrown against the world, and he wasn't sure if being impressed by the audacity of her fashion sense or just turn away, cover his eyes and hiss in outrage.
Two sapphire eyes twinkled joyously as she brought her hands around. A serpent of water two people thick surged from one of the towers, whipping toward the machine.
The thing was still busy trying to dislodge itself from the tractor to avoid it. The serpent crashed against it, erupting in a wave that washed all over it. Much of it splashed into its mouth hole, probably touching something critical. Electricity ran across the machine, making it twitch and jerk.
Having regrouped behind the girl, the people of the farm cheered, waving rifles and tools.
The girl grinned
The hole in the machine's belly snapped shut. Ripping its appendages free, the thing climbed over the tractor, stabbing with its tendrils.
The girl jumped, some of the water rushing beneath her. It formed into a wave that carried her away, the metal tendrils stabbing only into the wet ground.
The machine clambered forward more, scattering pieces of the tractor as it brought all its tendrils to bear. It tried to reach the girl, but she was always one step ahead, dancing around her enemy as the waves carried her from place to place. Meanwhile, she kept throwing serpents to the machine, soaking it until the tractor was in a puddle of churning water.
It didn't seem to work, the machine wading through the water like it was a spring rain.
Until the girl stopped and lifted both her hands.
The water massing on the ground rose up all at once, like an inverted waterfall. It invested the machine, that, not expecting it, was thrown into the air. It tried to take flight, but the current wouldn't allow it, flipping it into the air as it carried it higher and higher. All it could do was flail wildly with its appendages.
The girl brought her hands down with an enthusiastic shout.
A heavy monsoon couldn't have produced the mass of water that crashed down into the tractor. As it drained away, it left a crackling, twitching chrome wreckage, tangled with the tractor it had tried to break apart and steal. Metallic tendrils tried to rise, before whatever energy powered them failed and they splashed back into the water, together with its owner. The chrome machine was no more.
Dark agreed with the tophat. That girl was bad news. Better leave before getting noticed.
He left the people of the farm and the water girl to their cheering. He'd lie if he said he wasn't impressed. Was that normal around here? Whatever the case, he really didn't want to get involved. That water seemed to pack a real punch.
He didn't see, as he quickly walked away, one of the farmers noticing him.
Eventually, the field ended against tall, concrete walls. They must have been foreboding once, but now they were covered in colorful graffiti and the birds made their nest atop them and in their many cracks. They looked like overgrown scarecrows, too busy listening to the rustling of corn and keeping an eye out for thieves than to defend anybody.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Beyond, Summer City welcomed him with a twist of colors and sun.
Summer City was the westernmost of the main four cities bound to Central. It was also the smallest of them all, with the poorest people and the least developed infrastructure. Its inhabitants were mostly involved in agricolture and fishing, their region being the most fertile on the east coast. It was the breadbasket of the nation, with its products being shipped at all the other cities and even oversea.
Tourism was a big breadwinner for the city as well, with its golden beaches, luxurious hotels and colorful culture attracting hordes of tourists arriving daily, especially from Central. In fact, all the big fishes from the City owned at least a villa in the renowned Silver District of Summer City, that laid across the coast like a ribbon spun out of its moniker.
After all, where else one could find a stretch of sea uncorrupted by the Water? Even overseas, this little piece of paradise was envied and admired. In it, a man could not only enjoy warm weather and pleasant sands, but also the many festivities of the locals, that were famous for their love for life, partying and colorful costumes. The dances of Summer City were an attraction by themselves.
Of course, the bright image hid its share of problems, but Central didn't overly concern itself with it. As long as the food shipments and the money kept flowing, the few voices advocating for changes tended to be ignored.
And Summer City, jewel of the eastern coast, kept shining.
Dark knew nothing of all this. He knew nothing of economics, societal problems and whatnot. All he knew, as he stumbled across the busy streets, were two things: people were loud, and people there wore too much color.
Blue, yellow and red, so glaring and bright that they hurt his eyes. They were everywhere. Shockingly colorful cars made their way across streets painted with bold strokes. People strutted around swaddled in flamboyant dresses that shone and flashed like peacock mantles. Even the buildings added to the assault to the senses, their bright colors catching the light like glass.
And the songs, everywhere! He could swear that at every street corner there was a group of people of all ages singing and dancing around someone beating a drum or blowing in a flute. People whistled tunes while waiting in lines and groups broke in songs while walking down the street.
And of course, the sounds of city life. Cars rumbled and honked. People chatted and laughed and called. Led by guides, tourists walked in chattering groups, their flashing cameras only adding to the general brightness.
To most people, that place, with its colors and warmth and joyful rhythm, must have been some paradise. To Dark, it was hell. A hell of flashes and stabs to set his head on fire.
Thankfully, the people were quick to let him pass. All it took was a sniff and a glance for happy faces to twist with fear and disgust, and for feet to backpedal out of the way. In different circumstances, he would have given it more attention. Right now, he only wanted to find a cool corner to huddle in.
It took him an eternity to find a shaded alley and when he did, he stumbled straight into it.
"I hate this town," he panted, leaning against a wall. The tophat wiped its sweat, tiredly agreeing.
Dark wiped his eyes, trying and failing to get some of the ache out. No way he was going around like that. That little jog almost left him blind.
He was still blinking when his eyes fell on the trash littering the alley. Junk piled in heaps against the wall, boxes and sheets and moldering clothes. The last got his attention. He needed some coverings, and his wardrobe could use a pick-me-up as well.
Squatting down, he rummaged in the piles.
He found a pair of ripped pants and a shirt, gnawed by rats. It was a lucky find, but nothing like the jacket. Dark fell in love with it the moment he saw it. It was a deep burgundy, or at least, it was, the color having long faded. Strips and patches of different colors had been used to sew a lot of holes shut, and the cloth was threadbare and ratty.
Dark loved it.
He didn't quite understand why dipping the jumpsuit was such a relief, but he quickly forgot the thought as he looked at himself into his new get-up. To be polite, he looked like a bum, one that had fallen into the gutters and made out of it ten days after. Still, to him that apparel felt luxurious. Forgetting the chance to dip the blackened, shredded jumpsuit, he had a taste for that kind of dusty, broken stuff.
One learns something about himself every day, he guessed.
Pulling at his new jacket so that it fell better on his shoulders, he tipped his hat to a jaunty angle. The tophat whistled at how cool he looked, making him grin.
Feeling energized, he stepped out of the alley.
The colorful world welcomed him back with a flurry of colors and sounds and motions, but this time he was ready. A little bit ready. He tried to keep his eyes on the ground, shading his eyes with the tophat's brim.
It still didn't stop from seeing the disgust and fear on people's faces.
Annoying. Was he so ugly?
Now that he had some breathing space, he gave more attention to the people around him. The first thing that struck him was how small they looked. Out of all them, almost all didn't reach his shoulders. There was the odd person that reached as far with the top of his head, but those were far and in between. For most of the people, he was a giant, and they were dwarfs. Also, the proportions were… wrong?
He was lanky, his hands reaching as low as his knees, with his hands being very large and wide. His legs were long, gangly and thin. In comparison, people there were more… compact, with shorter, thicker limbs, smaller hands and shorter fingers.
Dark stomped to a shop window. With morbid curiosity, he peered into his reflection. A ghoulish face looked back. His skin was a lifeless white, pulled taut over a skull like tattered cloth. A wild, scraggly beard, black as coal, surrounded pale, bloodless lips. Thick eyebrows surmounted like black arches two black eyes; they looked from the bottom of deep fissures, glowing with eerie non-light.
Dark touched in wonder the face in the mirror, before letting his hand fall.
He looked around himself, at the people walking and laughing and singing. They weren't like him. They were…
Different.
The thought made him feel cold in a way he didn't like. The tophat tried to cheer him up, but he ignored it.
A low growl rumbled from deep in his chest as he turned away.
His eyes fell on the objects on exposition. There were sunglasses, just what he needed to walk around without ending up blind.
The glass door slid smoothly open and he walked inside, conditioned air brushing his face.
Shiny little objects like watches, glasses and necklaces stood in orderly rows behind protective glass. Well-dressed people admired the pieces and chatted politely. Soft music sounded in the background. Everything in that place spoke of serenity, cleanliness and cozy wealth.
Feeling anything but calm or cozy, Dark stomped behind the guard standing at the entrance. He didn't miss the surprised glance the man threw his way, nor how it quickly turned suspicious. Ignoring it, he walked to one of the exposition stand dedicated to the glasses. His eyes scanned elegant lenses and shiny frames. They lingered on the sunglasses.
Too expensive, all of them. Not like there was something affordable to him. He was completely broke.
He saw a well-dressed man walk to the guard, heard him hiss a few outraged words. The guards nodded and made to move, but the well-dressed man stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. A moment later, Dark heard them both walk toward him.
He kept his eyes on the glasses, without truly watching them.
A cough resounded at his side. He turned, seeing the well-dressed man smile politely at him. It didn't reach his eyes. The guard's bulldog face hung behind his shoulder.
"We don't serve people without the requirements," he said.
Dark watched him. The man had a gem on his necktie, he noticed. Lapislazzuli, probably.
"I am only watching."
The well-dressed man shook his head. He looked mildly amused.
"There is no need to make this difficult."
"I am only watching…"
The man's smile didn't flag. "No service for those like you," he said. "Beat it, bum."
Dark watched him. He turned to look at the room. They were all watching him, more or less subtly. Their eyes and expressions all told him the same thing.
Different. You're different.
He watched them, something hard burning in his chest. They were small, all of them. He was a giant. And if that was the case, if he truly was different, if he was a giant and they were all dwarfs; then why did he need to do what they told him? Why was this stranger speaking to him like that?
Why couldn't he just take what he wanted?
His heart picked up its rhythm. The tophat whispered an encouragement.
"Alright, that's enough, pal." The guard grabbed his arm. "Just come quietly and…"
His words ended in a yelp as Dark threw him. The man flew across the room, crashing into a row of expositions. Articles flew everywhere, together with shards of glass and polished wood.
An alarm went off. People started to scream.
"A criminal!"
"He's a criminal!"
Dark turned to the well-dressed man. The man didn't look scared, not even impressed or surprised. His hand disappeared in a blur and a knife appeared in it. Moving faster than Dark could react to, he dashed for him, thrusting the weapon into his side.
There was a screeching sound as the blade connected, like metal smashing against bullet-proof glass. The blade flew into the air, falling before the man's widened eyes.
Dark grinned at him. His fist impacted the man's skull with a thud, instantly sending him sprawling.
Still grinning, the tophat cheering for him, he turned and plunged his hand into the glass. The material crunched under his fingers, barely putting up any resistance before breaking inward. Dark rustled between the shards, picking a pair of sunglasses. He put them on, the world instantly turning a shade cooler and more comfortable.
Turning, he saw another guard, one that he hadn't seen before, standing at a door leading into another room of the shop.
The man held a metal contraption in his hands, pointing it against him.
Dark narrowed his eyes. He had already seen that kind of tools, but he wasn't exactly sure what they were.
He advanced, ignoring the man's orders to stand down and surrender.
Just as the man pulled the trigger and people screamed, Dark realized. Right, that's a gun.
The bullet impacted his chest with a metallic ping. He stumbled back, his hand going to where he had been shot. For a moment, he pawed around it. It didn't hurt. Not one bit.
Pushing a finger through the hole left in his shirt, he waggled it at the now very scared guard, grinning.
That did it for the rest of the clients.
"He's a Villain!"
That word barely rang out that they were all rushing for the exit, kicking stands and throwing purses away in their haste to get out.
Dark let them, not caring what they did. He stomped to the guard, slapping the gun out of the terrified man's hand. The man yelped and fell on his butt, looking up at him in terror.
Dark decided that he liked being looked at like that.
He laughed, the man winching and whimpering at the sound. He couldn't blame him. His laughter sounded like pieces of ice crashing together, like an avalanche of rocks crumbling into the depths of the heart, like a bubbling dark sea.
He loved it. No human would laugh like that. He was different after all. Different… or better?
Tipping his hat at the downed guard, he grabbed the sunglasses and walked out, leaving the devastated shop behind.
He grinned widely, his heart beating excitedly. That was so much fun. And if knives and guns broke against his skin, who was going to stop him from continuing to have it? He thought of the girl from before, the water gal, and laughed some more. After taking a bullet to the chest with barely a flinch, some water wasn't even going to slow him down. He was different after all.
He didn't see the guard he left behind frantically scream into a communicator.
"Villain on the loose! He's a Level 2! I repeat, Level 2! He's bulletproof! Send the special teams!"