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What it Means to be a Hero
The Fall and the Hero

The Fall and the Hero

I know it’s been a while since I’ve updated my usual fiction, but I’ve been really busy. I’m slowly working on new chapters and trying to do them right so they are better than what they have been.

That being said………This. It’s just a story I thought of and wanted to write down before I forgot. It’s going to be a one shot for now, but I might come back to it if I feel like it and it’s at least a tiny bit popular.

Well, Enjoy this short little story while I…Woah, I need to get some sleep.

The Fall

In the years before the collapse of society, there was a golden age of technology advancement. Medicine and genetics research was allowed to move forward at a rate that was never before seen. The advances in medical, virtual reality, transportation, and energy caused the world to go through a golden age of growth throughout the world. The worldwide electromagnet train system was built, powered almost entirely by solar energy and magnets. The world’s technology continued to advance, moving forward into a new age.

A few decades ago, people started to develop super powers, all at once, as though it was an epidemic spreading around the world to newborn children. The powers were extreme and varied, many of them seeming to defy physics and reality. Many people feared those children and some predicted that the end of the world was near. Still, those children could not be persecuted for things they hadn’t done, so they were allowed to grow. Organizations around the world began to appear, to teach these children how to control their abilities and use them for good.

The U.N. created a special worldwide organization, the Superhuman Police Force or SPF for short. They were an efficient group that used the specialized abilities to stop terrorism and aid in police efforts around the world. They were also assigned to stop rogue super humans. At first the efforts of the SPF revolutionized counterterrorism and domestic safety. Crime was lower than ever and people were happy. The second generation of super children, or supers for short, was what caused the fall to begin.

The “heroes” of the first generation were always busy, never having time to really enjoy themselves. They began to become disillusioned with the hero life and how unexpectedly normal it all was. They wanted to be real hero’s, who were famous and rich. However, they were just another police force and the excitement of the super powers was dwindling. They were becoming another part of daily life for everyone. Not everyone was content with the way the path humanity was headed towards, and some realized that there were better ways to obtain what they wanted. No one was sure when it happened, and since then humanity has lost track of time, but one day, The Fall began.

Divisions of the SPF fell apart as their members turned to crime, cutting down their comrades in their sleep and effectively disabling the SPF. The ones who turned to crime were usually the more powerful of the superhuman police force, because they knew they couldn’t be stopped. They stole, murdered, and raped their way through the world, and they were unstoppable. The very force that was meant to protect humanity had become the force that would bring about its ruin.

Years passed under the tyranny of the New SPF, which was now run by a bunch of thugs as the world spiraled into anarchy and despair. The word Hero was dead except for a few men and women who held out against the evil and dark temptations that every human has. Now, the number of cities still able to function, and the number of countries able to continue as they were has become very few. While the outward appearance of the world hasn’t changed in any drastic way, the people in it have adapted to survive a world torn apart.

The only way to survive in the current era was to join one of the many gangs that ran the world now. Governments were torn down, replaced by the wicked and cruel men and women gang leaders who began amassing power, fighting for territory and power. No one could afford to live independently as international trade was now run by the Traders, one of the more reasonable gangs that just wanted everything to be relatively as it was, at least when it came to the accessibility of food and important materials. They ran the Lightning Trains, the electromagnet train system from before the collapse of society. Nothing really changed too much, until the constant wars decreased the supply of gunpowder and guns.

Those who knew how to create guns and weapons were murdered, factories destroyed, and the secrets of guns were zealously guarded. If a person was found to have such knowledge, they would be killed by rival gangs, or their own people would kill them simply to avoid conflict. Guns became somewhat rare for these reasons and for one other. Guns were the only things other than themselves that could pose a threat to the super humans. So the SPF did what they could to get rid of them in the early days.

Many years have passed since the changes to the world occurred, and now there was a relative balance of power between all of the major forces still standing. There were still some strongholds of the civilization of the old days and the Traders continued to run the supply trains of the world. For some there was hope that the world would be somewhat normal again, if in a different way. For others, especially those living in the anarchic areas where small gangs were still fighting for control, they lived in fear, too afraid to even leave for the risk of being killed on the way out.

It was one of these areas, in a city, that a young boy with black hair and grey eyes stood looking down on the world from a skyscraper. His clothes were ragged and he was wearing a cloak that he himself had made some time ago. He was about six feet tall, his body muscular and toned. He took off his goggles and let them hang around his neck as he looked down on the people moving below. He took a deep breath and sighed.

“I wonder what it would be like to fall from here.” He said to himself as he stepped up onto the edge. “It’s probably better than the alternative.” He closed his eyes and let gravity drag him forward, over the edge, falling quickly to the ground below.

A group of ten young people ran from a group that was chasing them through the city streets. They were slowly gaining ground on the teenagers and would soon catch up. Their group was part of a small gang that wanted only to protect itself from the dangers of the anarchic zone they lived in. They held no claim to territory other than the building they lived in and a small surrounding area. They were a patrol group that was supposed to gather intelligence and report on the actions of the other gangs. If it was determined that there was enough activity to sufficiently distract the gangs, they would try to leave the anarchic zone. They had tried before and failed, and now they were losing hope.

Currently, the Bloodhounds, a group of murderous fiends who would kill anyone without reason, were chasing them. They were unlucky enough to chance across them on a routine expedition and they were now running in an attempt to reach the safety of their home. They tried to run even though they knew they wouldn’t make it in time. They were desperate to live, and weren’t just going to give up and throw their lives away.

“We have to…huff…split up…huff…”

“Fuck. Everyone that can, go on ahead.” One of the older boys spoke up. His name was Paul and he knew that some of the older ones were keeping up with the group when they could be racing ahead by now. They didn’t want to leave the others behind, abandoning them to their fate. He was also sticking with the group, because he was their leader and they were his responsibility. He still had an ace up his sleeve that might be able to stall the Bloodhounds long enough for some of his friends to escape. That’s what he thought, until they ran into a blocked street. They turned around to go the other way and saw that that side was also blocked.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Many of the city streets were blocked, but dead ends like this weren’t too common. This was the worst possible place they could have gone. “The alleys!” Paul yelled out.

“They’re all blocked up with debris and stuff!” someone yelled back

“Climb! Get up that wall, now!” He yelled. “I’ll do what I can to slow them down.”

They began trying to scale the large chunks of debris and destroyed cars that made up the wall as the Bloodhounds rounded the corner. Paul felt himself shaking as he saw them. They were truly frightening, wielding clubs, knives, and other weapons covered with dry blood. Behind him, Paul’s friends weren’t making much progress climbing the wall, and the bloodhounds would easily knock them down. They had made a fatal mistake, and they would all die here in the city that was crumbling. Some of the boys and girls started crying as they realized what was about to happen. This world was truly a cruel place.

Paul took a deep breath to try and steady himself, but the look on the faces of those murderers, those disturbing grins, scared him to his core. The Bloodhounds started laughing and readying their weapons as they moved forward. CRACK! Something slammed into the ground next to one of the buildings close by, raising a small cloud of dust. Everyone froze as they saw that it was a person that had fallen, but the strange thing was, that person had landed on his feet, actually shattering the sidewalk and road around where he landed. The young boy was wearing ragged clothes, a patched up old backpack and what looked like a sword at his waist.

He had one hand holding the sword at his waist to prevent it from hitting the ground as the other braced him as he landed. The boy stood up and slowly drew his sword. It was a slightly curved, one–sided blade and he drew it with the blade face up. Everyone watched this strange event with held breath. Even the Bloodhounds were still as they watched this person who began to turn towards the group of teenagers.

“I have to ask,” he said in a deep, serious voice.

Paul stepped forward. Was this person here to help them or was he here to murder them all like the bloodhounds were?

“Yes?” The man had a heavy atmosphere, which made Paul uncertain and afraid. His mysterious atmosphere and his strength made him a truly admirable figure.

“My entrance was bad ass, yeah?”

‘What the fuck?’ “Um. What?” That atmosphere from before was gone and Paul could only stare at him in confusion.

“I mean, I fell out of the sky, BAM, fuckin’ destroyed the ground and then I stood up and drew my sword like a badass. That had to be cool right? I mean, it hurt just a little bit, falling that far, but it had to look awesome right?”

The area was filled with silence, everyone absolutely speechless, until one of the girls started laughing, wiping away her tears. It was Cara, one of the older girls in their group. “Yeah, you were awesome. Too cool.”

Paul saw the young man’s eyes light up when she said that and asked, “Who are you?”

“Me? I’m a hero.”

There was laughter again, this time coming from one of the older members of the Bloodhounds, who stepped forward. “Stop wasting our time clown. Ain’t no such thing as a hero. You can pretend all you want, but one day you’ll fall just like the others. You’ll turn to crime, rape the pretty little girls you were protecting, and you’ll destroy everything you ever loved, just like they did, just…like…I did.” His body began to change, turning dark red as his fingers turned into long thin blades. His body grew tall, and thin as it stretched into a beast. His teeth grew and his head turned into a misshapen thing that caused some of the group of teenagers to turn pale.

“Geez. Day one and it’s already a boss fight? I don’t know who you are, but you’re wrong. There’s one big difference between me and the ones you called heroes long ago.”

“Hahaha.” The voice of the creature before him was twisted and hoarse. “Oh really?”

“Yeah. I’m a real hero. My name is Kibo, and I’m here to end you.”

“Hahaa! What kind of name is that?”

“It means hope, something that I doubt you understand, monster. Now shut up and let me cut you down.”

The now mutated human charged forward, swinging its claws at Kibo who dodged them with a smile on his face. He dodged every strike or used the sword to deflect the claws. The smile soon fell from his face and turned into a frown as the fight continued. The mutated man grew more and more confident as he saw that Kibo couldn’t match the long arms reach and couldn’t counterattack.

He dodged to the side and then jumped back, away from the monster like human. “I guess I was wrong.”

“That’s right…”

“This isn’t a boss fight at all. That’s… so disappointing.”

“What the hell are you...” before he could finish, Kibo dashed forward, slipped inside the man’s arms and swung the sword through the man’s middle as he passed by.

The man fell to his knees and began to revert to the shape of a human. “So fast.” His hands were desperately trying to hold in his guts as he looked at Kibo in bewilderment. “Thought you’d be afraid of killing someone.”

Kibo looked at the dying man with eyes full of pity. “Sorry, but I learned to kill a long time ago.” He flicked his wrist and blood sprayed out of the man’s neck as he fully collapsed onto the ground, dead. Without pausing, he started walking towards the group of men wielding weapons, no hesitation in his eyes. The men gathered their courage, their bloodlust, and charged him, attempting to use their numbers to overwhelm him. He didn’t move until they were right upon him, then he barely avoided a swing aimed at his head as he stepped forward.

With unbelievable speed, he moved, zigzagging between his enemies as he cut them down. He fought in a way they had never seen before, barely dodging attacks as he countered. He used his enemies as shields, and fought with a certain cold, calculating attitude, as if his enemies were nothing but grass that had grown too tall and needed to be cut. He moved extremely quickly as he swung his sword, a reaper among the Bloodhounds. They never stood a chance and he didn’t let a single one of them escape.

When he was done, he stared down at them with a look of deep sorrow in his eyes. He cleaned off his sword and returned it to his sheath. “I took seventeen lives this day. I pray that I never forget what I have done and the weight my actions bear.”

He turned to Paul and he could see the fear in the eyes of the people he saved. He smiled, though there was no mirth in it, and he spoke. “Will you be able to make it home now?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He started to walk away when Cara ran up to him.

“Wait.”

He tilted his head in curiosity as he waited for her to speak. “You saved us. Thank you so much. She grabbed his hand, and then jerked back when she realized that it was bloody. “I want to thank you somehow. Isn’t there a reason you saved us? What is it that you want? Why did you save us?

“Do you know what a hero is?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Well, a hero is someone who saves people that need saving, no matter how hard it is or how much they have to sacrifice to do it. Why? Because a hero is someone who believes in what is right, trying to protect the good in the world. The only reward they seek is the smiles of the people they saved and relief of the loved ones who get to watch them return home every night.”

“I don’t get it. What do you get out of it?”

He grinned and turned to walk away, looking over his shoulder as he said,” A reason to smile.”

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