Chapter 11. Villainous Therapy: Helping Heroes Help Themselves

The night sky flickered with flashes of red and blue as sirens echoed below. Three heroes stood atop the building, ready for battle. Each one had their signature stance, faces set with determination.

At the center, Captain Starburst, his cape fluttering in the breeze, eyes locked on their target. To his right, Voltress, her fists crackling with neon-blue electricity. To his left, Stonefist, a mountain of muscle with a jawline so sharp it could cut glass.

And standing across from them was The Retconner.

But he wasn’t standing like a villain. No, no, he was leaning. Leaning against the rooftop exit door like he was waiting for a friend who was running late. He wore a gray hoodie, some faded jeans, and sneakers that had clearly seen better days. No menacing mask. No dark cloak. Just... vibes.

"Alright, alright," The Retconner said, holding his hands up, palms forward. "Let me guess. This is the part where you shout something dramatic like, 'Your reign of terror ends tonight!' or, 'Justice will be served!' Am I close?"

“Your reign of terror ends tonight!” Captain Starburst declared, pointing dramatically.

“Ha! Called it.” The Retconner grinned, clapping slowly. "Classic. Seriously, 10/10 delivery, Starburst. You practiced that in the mirror this morning, huh?"

Captain Starburst frowned. "Shut up, Retconner! We know what you've done—rewriting people's pasts, altering reality, twisting memories. It all ends here!"

“Does it, though?” Retconner asked, cocking his head like a curious puppy. "Because I remember it differently. Don’t you, Greg?"

Captain Starburst flinched.

“What did you just call me?”

“Greg,” Retconner said, smiling. “It’s your name, isn’t it? Gregory 'Starburst' Stevens. Remember? I mean, I get it, Captain Starburst sounds way cooler, but Greg? Greg's a solid name. Your mom picked it, remember? She said it was her father’s name, and you always thought it was kinda lame, but deep down, you liked that connection to family.”

Captain Starburst blinked, his hand slowly lowering. “How do you… how do you know that?”

“Because I was there, Greg,” Retconner said softly, stepping forward. “I was there when you watched your mom stitch that little lightning bolt patch onto your backpack before your first day of school. I was there when you told her you’d grow up to be a ‘real hero,’ and she said, ‘You already are.’”

Captain Starburst’s lips parted like he was going to say something, but no sound came out. He just stood there, his eyes darting left and right like he was trying to piece together a puzzle with missing pieces.

"Wait," Captain Starburst muttered, his brow furrowed. "She did say that, didn't she? But... you weren’t there."

"Wasn't I, Greg?" Retconner whispered, his grin softening into something more sincere. "Or are you just forgetting?”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

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Voltress snapped her fingers, a sharp crack! of blue lightning.

“Don’t listen to him, Greg!” she barked. “He’s using his powers on you! That’s his whole thing! He makes you doubt what’s real!”

“Ah, Voltress,” Retconner said, turning his attention to her. “Or should I say, Lily Grace Moreau?”

Her eyes widened.

“Oops,” he said, tapping his temple. “Didn’t mean to drop your government name in front of all your friends. But it’s okay, right? You trust them. I mean, you can trust them, yeah?”

“Shut up,” Voltress hissed, sparks dancing at her fingertips. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Don’t I?” he said, tilting his head. “Remember how you felt after your first fight with Shockjaw? You won, but he called you a ‘wannabe battery with anger issues.’ And you laughed it off, but that night, you sat in your room, staring at your hands, wondering if he was right.”

Her fists stopped crackling.

“...How do you know that?” she muttered, eyes darting down.

“Because I do, Lily,” Retconner said, his voice gentle now. “I’m not here to fight you. I’m here to help you see that you don’t have to be Voltress. You could just be Lily. No costumes. No masks. No yelling at 2 a.m. on rooftops. Don’t you miss that? Don’t you miss being you?”

Her breath hitched. Her eyes welled up just a little.

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Stonefist cracked his knuckles, his face stone-cold as ever.

“Not falling for it,” he growled. “You think you can dig into my head, pull out some sad memory, and make me fold? Not happening, Retconner.” He stomped forward. “Say whatever you want. I’m not moving.”

Retconner sighed, looking genuinely disappointed. “I’m not gonna lie, Kevin, I expected more from you.”

Stonefist froze mid-step. “...How do you know my name?”

“Dude,” Retconner said, throwing his arms up like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “We went to high school together.”

“What?” Stonefist barked, fists raised. “No, we didn’t! I’d remember you!”

“Would you, though?” Retconner smiled slyly. "You didn't remember Jess Calloway had a crush on you either, but she definitely did. 9th grade. Sat behind you in algebra. Always asked you for help, even though she was way better at math than you.”

Stonefist’s jaw dropped.

“Oh no,” Retconner said, holding his face in mock shock. “Did I just remind you of the one person who actually liked you for you?”

Stonefist’s fists slowly lowered. “...Jess?”

“Yup,” Retconner said, his grin turning into a soft smile. “And if you’d just asked her out, you wouldn’t be here right now, pal. You’d be on a farm, living simple, happy, maybe even raising kids. But instead, here you are.”

Stonefist blinked rapidly, like he was waking up from a dream. “She did… she did like me, didn’t she?”

“Yeah, Kev,” Retconner said, his voice warm. “She did.”

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Captain Starburst, Voltress, and Stonefist stood together, but none of them had the energy to attack anymore.

Retconner sighed, shaking his head like a tired parent.

“Listen, guys,” he said, hands in his hoodie pocket. “I know you think you’re doing the right thing. Punching bad guys, chasing supervillains, all that jazz. But let me ask you this…”

He gestured around the rooftop, at the broken air vents and cracked concrete.

“Has it ever made you happy?”

The silence was deafening.

“You all wanted to be heroes,” Retconner said, walking forward slowly, no fear in his step. “But tell me—when was the last time you felt like one?”

Captain Starburst dropped his gaze. Voltress wiped her face with her sleeve. Stonefist just looked at the ground like it had betrayed him.

Retconner stepped past them, giving each one a pat on the shoulder as he passed. “Go home,” he said softly. “Call your parents. Take off the mask. You don’t have to fight anymore.”

None of them stopped him. None of them moved.

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Hours later, at a small diner across town

Retconner sat at the counter, eating pancakes with way too much syrup. The TV in the corner played the news.

“Reports say Captain Starburst has announced his early retirement,” the anchor said. “Sources confirm Voltress has stepped away from public life, and Stonefist has reportedly reunited with an old high school sweetheart.”

Retconner chuckled, shaking his head as he drowned his pancakes in more syrup.

“Therapy,” he muttered, taking a bite. “Cheaper than fighting superheroes.”