Post by Deleted on Mar 4, 2017 15:50:21 GMT -5
I used to be a superhero once, but then I took some tough dose of reality to the soul.
Would you believe that books were to blame?
Well in the end it was television, but books was where it started.
My grandfather would roll in his grave and punch me in the face if he heard me saying such a sacriligeous statement. In fact, If I felt like it I could arrange for just that to happen.
When Game of Thrones and other such stories became the main stream, and even the most innocent super hero stories started turning dark and deconstructing the genre, the fall of heroes began.
Villains started asking, "Why not just get rid of heroes?" And heroes started asking, "Why not just nip the problem in the bud and get it over with?"
Of course, there are many major organizations - as there is The UN for the world - that control everything through politics and actual enforcement power.
But when you have villains with nuclear capabilities, and heroes who can dissapear into the shadows, there's bound to be some first blood.
As The Iron Herald, I was the poster child of my city Greenyork.
The city was a modest place, but it was so patriotic, and I was so strong and hero-like (that is also the fault of too many comic books) that despite my best intentions, the world looked to me.
They wanted me to reply to the state of the union.
"What do you think of the brutal murder of The Villain Jackalone and his little brother John Dazel?"
"What do you think of the rise of vigilante death squads in warzones across the globe?"
"Is grevious injury allowed so long as someone is a 'super hero' Don't you think KickKick Girl went too far this time?"
It was my fault, for not changing with the times, and my fault, for feeling proud that people would look to me for answers. There's a certain charm to being a relic of the past.
I still shouted catch phrases, I still stood on rooftops and my outfit still had the underwear on the outside. I was proud of my cheesiness, and most of all proud of the hope I gave the world.
But everyone was now about people dying, and about twisting what looked too good. Unless you're walking with a hoodie and a terrible back story, then you have no right to be a hero.
I was happily married for a while, and my wife drowned. My children had to live in hiding because of my occupation, so I had my share of problems.
But I refused to just bend to pressure, or 'do the sensible thing'. I owed it to my father, and his father. Both soldiers who only focused on doing 'the right thing.'
When all is said and done, what's important is the people who need help before you, and that battle field. I would leave the dark ideologies to the cheap internet news sights and tabloids.
But soon, someone forced my hand.
The nuclear villain Kandorg Brexbright came to Greenyork to hold the city hostage, telling me to kill the president of the country in order to save the city.
I was immediately contacted by the intelligence community and told to somehow buy time, and that if I even considered the deal they would hurt my family.
So in the end, I had to decide between a city being vaporized, and my family dying.
But I believed that Kandorg was a true man. That he would rise to a real one on one battle. Like any good villain, even he had his limits.
Even the worst dictator would not blow themselves up with a million other people.
My fatal mistake.
I was in love with the logic of comic books, where bad things happen, but good is the general aim.
And he was convinced by a dark world where everything was random, and anything was allowed.
I survived the explosion, but the millions of the city did not.
Disgrace and shame haunted me, but more than anything, I gave up on humanity as a whole.
In the end, Kandorg had been raised by the same humans I'd been trying to protect.
In the end, my own allies had let me deal with the situation alone, and threatened me with their own family.
So I quit the job, and dissapeared quietly. If I shook the boat any more, it would only bring more pain.
Dying of radiation sickness, I would still reach the age of 100 if I took it easy. Even though my Concept Invulnerability power was weakened, I was still an able fighter.
One day, I got a letter, and a scruffy boy showed up at my door. He had wild eyes, and seemed to always be breathing heavily, ready for a fight.
"Who are you?" I asked. I was living on a remote island. How did he find me?
"I'm your grand-nephew. Joseph." He said.
I didn't even know I had a grand-nephew, so much did my family hate me.
"What do you want?"
"I want to become a super hero." He said.
He had been abandoned by his parents, who were stuck in an endless spiral of drugs.
He wanted to live like a hero, and save his community from the gangs that were wreaking havoc there, and his family as well.
I frowned, "I don't train people."
"I know. But I want to learn how to be a good hero" He said.
He did not hide how annoyed he was, or how impatient, but I could feel how sincere he was about wanting to be a better person.
"What can you do, with such thin bones?" I replied, trying to demotivate him.
He teleported behind me, and I barely had time to react and block his blow.
His fist was covered in energy.
Before I even had time to react to that, he turned invisible and sped around me in circles. He almost destroyed my wooden floor, but he flew instead.
He seemed to have many, many abilities.
And all he wanted to do was save his parents and town.
To be honest, I was touched.
"Fine." I said.
I used to be a superhero once.
And now I'll train another to become one.
Would you believe that books were to blame?
Well in the end it was television, but books was where it started.
My grandfather would roll in his grave and punch me in the face if he heard me saying such a sacriligeous statement. In fact, If I felt like it I could arrange for just that to happen.
When Game of Thrones and other such stories became the main stream, and even the most innocent super hero stories started turning dark and deconstructing the genre, the fall of heroes began.
Villains started asking, "Why not just get rid of heroes?" And heroes started asking, "Why not just nip the problem in the bud and get it over with?"
Of course, there are many major organizations - as there is The UN for the world - that control everything through politics and actual enforcement power.
But when you have villains with nuclear capabilities, and heroes who can dissapear into the shadows, there's bound to be some first blood.
As The Iron Herald, I was the poster child of my city Greenyork.
The city was a modest place, but it was so patriotic, and I was so strong and hero-like (that is also the fault of too many comic books) that despite my best intentions, the world looked to me.
They wanted me to reply to the state of the union.
"What do you think of the brutal murder of The Villain Jackalone and his little brother John Dazel?"
"What do you think of the rise of vigilante death squads in warzones across the globe?"
"Is grevious injury allowed so long as someone is a 'super hero' Don't you think KickKick Girl went too far this time?"
It was my fault, for not changing with the times, and my fault, for feeling proud that people would look to me for answers. There's a certain charm to being a relic of the past.
I still shouted catch phrases, I still stood on rooftops and my outfit still had the underwear on the outside. I was proud of my cheesiness, and most of all proud of the hope I gave the world.
But everyone was now about people dying, and about twisting what looked too good. Unless you're walking with a hoodie and a terrible back story, then you have no right to be a hero.
I was happily married for a while, and my wife drowned. My children had to live in hiding because of my occupation, so I had my share of problems.
But I refused to just bend to pressure, or 'do the sensible thing'. I owed it to my father, and his father. Both soldiers who only focused on doing 'the right thing.'
When all is said and done, what's important is the people who need help before you, and that battle field. I would leave the dark ideologies to the cheap internet news sights and tabloids.
But soon, someone forced my hand.
The nuclear villain Kandorg Brexbright came to Greenyork to hold the city hostage, telling me to kill the president of the country in order to save the city.
I was immediately contacted by the intelligence community and told to somehow buy time, and that if I even considered the deal they would hurt my family.
So in the end, I had to decide between a city being vaporized, and my family dying.
But I believed that Kandorg was a true man. That he would rise to a real one on one battle. Like any good villain, even he had his limits.
Even the worst dictator would not blow themselves up with a million other people.
My fatal mistake.
I was in love with the logic of comic books, where bad things happen, but good is the general aim.
And he was convinced by a dark world where everything was random, and anything was allowed.
I survived the explosion, but the millions of the city did not.
Disgrace and shame haunted me, but more than anything, I gave up on humanity as a whole.
In the end, Kandorg had been raised by the same humans I'd been trying to protect.
In the end, my own allies had let me deal with the situation alone, and threatened me with their own family.
So I quit the job, and dissapeared quietly. If I shook the boat any more, it would only bring more pain.
Dying of radiation sickness, I would still reach the age of 100 if I took it easy. Even though my Concept Invulnerability power was weakened, I was still an able fighter.
One day, I got a letter, and a scruffy boy showed up at my door. He had wild eyes, and seemed to always be breathing heavily, ready for a fight.
"Who are you?" I asked. I was living on a remote island. How did he find me?
"I'm your grand-nephew. Joseph." He said.
I didn't even know I had a grand-nephew, so much did my family hate me.
"What do you want?"
"I want to become a super hero." He said.
He had been abandoned by his parents, who were stuck in an endless spiral of drugs.
He wanted to live like a hero, and save his community from the gangs that were wreaking havoc there, and his family as well.
I frowned, "I don't train people."
"I know. But I want to learn how to be a good hero" He said.
He did not hide how annoyed he was, or how impatient, but I could feel how sincere he was about wanting to be a better person.
"What can you do, with such thin bones?" I replied, trying to demotivate him.
He teleported behind me, and I barely had time to react and block his blow.
His fist was covered in energy.
Before I even had time to react to that, he turned invisible and sped around me in circles. He almost destroyed my wooden floor, but he flew instead.
He seemed to have many, many abilities.
And all he wanted to do was save his parents and town.
To be honest, I was touched.
"Fine." I said.
I used to be a superhero once.
And now I'll train another to become one.