Cord
The villain fighting against the heroes was a superhuman among the superhumans. He didn’t seem to exhaust himself or pause. No injury could stop him. The ongoing fight just invigorated him more. His powers kept him changing but close to the same each time. He evolved throughout the fight, with no one able to pin him down. I watched him through the binoculars while Christian and Sarah watched the video feed of the drone.
The villain stood amidst the rubble, a towering figure with an aura of invincibility. His skin shimmered with an unnatural sheen, reflecting the flickering flames from the surrounding wreckage. As he moved, debris crumbled beneath his feet, each step a testament to his overwhelming power.
The five heroes circled him cautiously, their faces etched with determination and fatigue. The leader of the group, a woman clad in sleek armor, launched herself at the villain with a burst of energy. Her fists crackled with electricity as she aimed for his chest. But even as her blows landed, the villain's body absorbed the impact, his skin shifting to counteract the attack. He retaliated with a swift backhand that sent her sprawling across the debris-strewn ground.
Nearby, another hero, one with the power to manipulate cold, attacked. Ice swept and danced, engulfing him in a searing vortex. Yet, as the ice storm subsided, the villain emerged unscathed, his skin now glowing with an inner heat that melted the ice and snow away.
At the same time, a third hero, gifted with superhuman speed, darted in and out of the fray. He struck with rapid punches and kicks, hoping to find a weakness in the villain's defenses. But each time he landed a blow, the villain adapted, his movements becoming faster and more fluid.
Realizing brute force was ineffective, one of the heroes—a telepath—attempted to invade the villain's mind. She concentrated intensely, her eyes narrowing as she sought to disrupt his thoughts. For a moment, it seemed to work; the villain staggered slightly as if disoriented. But then he shook his head violently and let out a roar that shattered windows in nearby buildings.
The fifth hero tried to confuse the villain by creating multiple copies of himself. The battlefield was suddenly filled with identical figures darting in every direction. The villain paused, scanning his surroundings with narrowed eyes. They flashed white. In an instant, he identified the real hero among the illusions and lunged forward with terrifying speed.
Their attacks only served to fuel the villain's adaptive abilities. As they regrouped, breathing heavily and nursing their injuries, they exchanged glances filled with uncertainty.
"We need a new strategy," gasped the leader, wiping blood from her lip. "We can't keep up like this."
I can’t,” the speedster rasped.
A moment later, he was grabbed by the villain. His hand had shot out inhumanly fast. The speedster didn’t seem to even notice until a death grip wrapped around his neck. The first hero to die fell onto the rubble.
The four remaining heroes roared and continued to barrage the villain with attacks to little effect.
“I’ve got an idea for the evolver,” I finally said to the group. Other hunters of superhumans had joined us on the street, preparing to kill the superhumans. “While he has some enhanced strength and speed, he is incapable of completely dodging attacks. For any attack we or other superhumans throw at him, he will push through, but what if we trap him? With the right cage, we can make sure he can’t continue his destruction.”
“We don’t have the cuffs or chains available for that,” said one of the other hunters.
“But we do,” said Christian. “Just used them, in fact. They are in my truck.”
“I’ll grab them,” said Sarah.
I considered my new options. “Now we just need to find the best time to use them and how we can get the heroes at the same time.”
“I worry that chains won’t stop him. Maybe he will just adapt out of those as well,” said Christian. “We should just go for the other superhumans. Kill them, and that guy has no one else to fight. That is unless another psycho shows up, which may soon be a possibility. Then all we must do after they have been dealt with is get out of here before that super gets to us.”
“They’ve noticed us by now, so we should act soon,” I reminded them. “We don’t want them bringing down a building we or our allies are near.”
“You’re right,” said Christian. He motioned to the other hunters. “Fall back to get ready.”
Slowly, we all stepped back while keeping most of the battle in view. I started to look at the battle with more worry. It wasn’t just that I worried about the evolver’s or the other superhuman’s reaction, but I wasn’t sure how long the plan would take. The plan would take a while to execute, and if it took much longer, then the chance of reinforcements was high.
We could only handle so many superhumans because they were all tied up nicely in a battle against each other. Once the losing side decides to flee, then they may likely power through the area to escape.
I took a step back, my stomach in knots. The fight below looked worse with every second. No one was winning, not really. The heroes kept throwing everything they had at the villain, but it was like watching waves crash against a cliff—nothing stuck, nothing mattered. And the more they fought, the more he seemed to thrive on it. His movements, once stiff and deliberate, now flowed like water, adapting to each attack they threw his way.
I clenched my fists, feeling the cold metal of the binoculars press into my palms. Through the lens, I could see the exhaustion on their faces. They had to know they were losing, but what else could they do? They were trapped, fighting not just for survival but for some desperate sliver of hope. I wasn’t sure they even believed in it anymore.
Christian’s voice crackled in my earpiece, snapping me out of my thoughts. “We’ve got the chains. This has to be timed perfectly. If we mess this up...”
I didn’t need him to finish the sentence. We were on borrowed time, and every second felt like it was running out faster than the last. But I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the scene. The speedster was already down, his body still sprawled where the villain had tossed him like a rag doll. The others weren’t faring much better.
The leader—she was something. Blood streamed down her face, but she kept shouting orders, kept charging in. Watching her, I couldn’t tell if she was brave or just reckless. Either way, it wasn’t going to save them.
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I took another step back, my heart hammering. Sarah was sprinting toward the truck now, moving as fast as she could. Good. We’d need those chains soon—if this plan even had a chance of working. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? The doubt. The gnawing voice in the back of my head kept telling me it wouldn’t be enough.
Another hero went down. The telepath, I think. She screamed—a high-pitched, heart-stopping sound—as the villain’s arm lashed out and sent her flying. I felt a sharp twist in my gut, watching her hit the ground, limp and broken. And no one moved to help her. There wasn’t time. There wasn’t a damn thing they could do.
“Cord, we need to act now,” Christian’s voice was sharp, urgent.
“I know,” I muttered. I lowered the binoculars, rubbing a hand over my face. What the hell was I doing? What were we doing? These heroes were fighting for something bigger than themselves. But us? We were just here to clean up the mess and maybe try to profit from it. And now we were talking about stepping in, maybe getting ourselves killed in the process. For what? To trap a guy who could adapt to anything we threw at him. This wasn’t helping us. Not really.
I took another step back, the gravel crunching under my boots. I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were out of our depth. This plan… hell, it didn’t feel right. Christian kept pushing for it, but what if the villain just evolved his way out of the chains, too? He’d already shrugged off the ice, fire, punches, and mental attacks. What made us think we had something that could stop him?
I took another set of steps back. I was behind everyone else. There was now most of a building between me and the fight. Christian started working with others on his plan. I couldn’t step forward. I didn’t want to. There was nothing I could do. Not by myself. Not without superpowers. Even then, those who fought against each other died, leaving more destruction in their wake.
I wished then that things were better. Maybe that would just be part of my fantasy. I would never be able to get back to a more stable world. Back when heroes and villains were less destructive and problematic. It was a time when a fulfilling job and a life worth living.
I paused and froze.
0-0-0-0-0
The clock on my desk blinked while presenting the time. 8:47 AM. The numbers stared at me, reminding me I was a little late—not that anyone seemed to notice. I shuffled papers, trying to look busy as I organized the files for the parks project. The pile of tax documents felt heavier than usual, or maybe that was just me.
“Hey Cord, you got the tax files for the parks project?” The voice came from over my shoulder—Gary, of course. Always with a slight rasp, like he'd been up too late.
"I do," I replied, grabbing the top file from the stack. The papers landed on his desk with a thud. "And here’s something for you. For your birthday." I slid a small box across his desk. His eyebrows shot up.
He chuckled, a genuine surprise creeping into his voice. “You didn’t have to.”
“It’s nothing, really. Just something I thought you’d like,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. I could feel my phone buzzing in my pocket, but I let it go for now. Work first, distractions later.
Gary opened the box slowly. Inside was a single large blueberry muffin and one from his favorite bakery. "This looks... thanks, Cord."
I smiled, hoping it conveyed enough. The sound of keyboards clicking filled the air around us, but the office felt oddly quiet this morning. I worked on sorting the files and papers. Some needed to be uploaded to the company drives. Some just needed to be edited with new information from Excel sheets that others had worked on. My phone buzzed again.
Lunch. Right.
"You free for lunch later? Usual spot, the deli down on 8th?" Gary asked, already turning back to his screen.
"Yeah, I could use a break," I said, glancing at the time.
By noon, the office was humming louder, more people bustling between desks, heading out for quick bites or coffee breaks. I gathered my things, following the familiar path down the elevator and out into the street, the city wrapping me in its chaotic embrace. New York had a way of doing that—always moving, always something happening. But I didn’t mind. It gave me space to think.
The deli on the 8th was small, tucked between two towering office buildings like it didn’t belong, but that’s what made it our spot. I walked in, the bell above the door jingling faintly, the smell of pastrami and pickles hitting me instantly. Gary waved me over to a booth in the back where he was already sitting with Tessa and James, two more from accounting.
Gary’s face lit up when I slid into the booth. Tessa and James were mid-conversation, and I could already tell by the look on Gary’s face where this was going.
“Did you hear about what happened in Midtown?” Gary asked, eyes wide. “That hero—what’s his name? Silverstrike—took down one of those rogue superhumans. The one who can control metal bent an entire building frame like it was paper.”
Tessa snorted. “Please, Gary. You act like these heroes are gods or something. They’re just people with powers.”
Gary shook his head, determined. “People with powers, but they save lives. I saw a video—he shielded an entire bus from falling debris. How do you not admire that?”
I unwrapped my sandwich, trying to focus on the sound of the paper crinkling instead of Gary’s inevitable hero worship. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate what the heroes did. Who wouldn’t? They risked their lives every day. But it always felt… distant, like something happening in another reality, even though it was right outside our office windows sometimes.
“They make it look so easy,” James chimed in, scrolling through his phone. “Like, just another day for them. Meanwhile, I struggle to balance a budget.”
“They’ve got the hard part,” Gary said, leaning in. “We push numbers around all day. They’re out there, facing things that could kill them. I’d give anything to have what they have. The power, the courage to use it.”
There it was. Gary’s usual awe, like he’d trade his quiet office life in a heartbeat for one with capes and danger. I took a bite of my sandwich, thinking.
“Power isn’t everything, Gary,” I said after a beat. “I mean, yeah, it’s amazing what they do. But it’s risky. Imagine living every day knowing one wrong move could end it all.”
“But they do it,” Gary pressed. “That’s what’s incredible. They could walk away and live normal lives like us. But they don’t. They use what they’ve got.”
Tessa laughed, shaking her head. “I think Cord’s just jealous he didn’t get the powers in the gene pool.”
I rolled my eyes but smiled at her. “Yeah, right. Me, flying around in a suit? I’d probably get distracted halfway through a rescue. Plus, I’m not sure if I would be fine with the pain. Even with the enhanced body, a building collapsing on me would not be pleasant.”
Gary grinned. “Nah, you’d be good. You’ve got the mind for it. Strategic, thoughtful.”
“Thoughtful isn’t exactly a superpower,” I said, but Gary was already on a tangent again about how Silverstrike had dodged an entire collapsing building to save a stray cat or something. He always focused on the details, the small, human moments during the chaos.
I glanced out the deli window at the blur of people rushing by. Somewhere out there, a hero was probably doing something spectacular—stopping a bank robbery or deflecting an energy blast—but here I was, in my corner booth, eating a turkey club. There was comfort in the routine, in the predictability of it all. The world outside could be falling apart, but here in the deli, it was just us talking about things beyond our control, pretending they mattered.
“And you’re telling me, Cord, if you had powers, you wouldn’t do anything with them?” Gary asked, pulling me back into the conversation.
I hesitated. “I don’t know. Maybe. Depends what kind of powers.”
“Doesn’t matter what kind,” he shot back. “The point is, you’d have the choice.”
I shrugged. “Maybe I’d help people in smaller ways. Not everyone needs to be throwing cars to make a difference.”
Gary considered that, nodding slowly. “That’s true. But man, wouldn’t it be something?”
I didn’t respond; just sipped my drink. He wasn’t wrong. It would be something. But I wasn’t sure it was something I wanted. The heroes could keep their powers. I was content with my spreadsheets and tax files, at least for now. Superheroes didn’t seem to have stable lives. Some died. Others injured themselves and just disappeared. I liked my stability.
Tessa leaned back, arms crossed. “If you ask me, it’s not the powers that make them special. It’s the fact that they’re willing to keep going even when they’re outmatched. I mean, how many of them are just normal folks with a bit of magic or a gadget? It’s what they do with it that counts.”
Gary smiled, eyes bright with admiration. “Exactly. That’s what makes them real heroes.”
I stared down at my sandwich, half-eaten. “Yeah,” I said quietly, more to myself than anyone else. “Real heroes.”