Hero Super

A few months ago.

Having been finally found by the dynamic duo of Frostbloom and the fast asshat, Calvin was alone in the apartment, shaking in anxiety that the two would bust through his door and shout ‘j’accuse’ before putting him in cuffs and behind bars. And sure enough, after a few days of nail-biting anticipation, an investigative summons came to his(Sam’s) doorstep. Although, it wasn’t exactly an arrest, the message accompanying the summons clearly implied that it would turn into one if he didn’t go.

And so, with little choice, he went.

Calvin was half-expecting to be greeted by heroes and a pair of cuffs. But contrarily, he wasn’t and was instead led to a room with a certain detective bearing an unfortunate moniker.

“Good morning, Detective Bullshit.” He greeted the man, albeit with an obvious tone of distaste.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be using my power today. Well, I can’t.” He said and raised his right hand, showing Calvin a pair of police cuffs he wore on his wrist.

“Is that a kink or—”

“What the fuck— no. They’re dampeners. Stops me from blasting you full force with my power. Where’d you even learn something like that?”

‘From the internet.’ He thought, remembering one thing he missed from his world. “Why don’t you wear that all the time?”

“Because it’s uncomfortable.” He answered, adjusting the cuffs that looked like they were biting into his sleeve. “Also who’d want to wear cuffs all the time?”

Calvin gave an accusatory glare. “Weirdos.”

“Exactly,” he nodded, oblivious to Calvin's implication. “Anyway, just call me Jake. Only Sky calls me BS nowadays.”

“Sure,” Calvin muttered.

Unsurprisingly, the cuffs worked like a charm despite Jake calling them simple ‘dampeners’. At most, all Calvin felt was a slight tingle in the back of his mind, which was miles better than the usual projectile-vomit-inducing dizziness. And even then, the man used a holographic whiteboard to ask questions, apparently circumventing the use of his power.

The ‘interrogation’ itself didn’t feel like too much of a big deal either, it mostly covered what had happened during Calvin’s first day on Super World. Jake also tried questioning him about what he could remember about his life before the laboratory, which Calvin easily and honestly answered— since he had no idea at all.

“Okay, for this last question, and I’ll warn you I need to use my power for this or the entire interview will be scrapped.” He spoke with a serious tone, taking off the cuffs with a press of the button.

Calvin breathed deeply and braced himself, staring back with the same seriousness as Jake did, “shoot.”

“Did you lie at all in any part of this interview?”

Calvin felt a dizzying haze, but knowing it was coming made it easier to stomach. “Yes.”

“Great! Now, that’s all for that interview. Here’s the next, government-mandated, part. What are we going to do with you? Ah— fuck, that was rhetorical, damn it.” Jake spoke, quickly putting on the dampeners after realizing his mistake.

He felt another dizzy spell, much more strongly as he wasn’t expecting it this time, prompting an instinctive answer from him, “ugh— just kill me…”

Jake looked slightly disturbed, staring at Calvin and trying to decipher his morbid answer, “we’re going to get you in the system first, then you’re free to go.”

“I’m not in the system? I thought you found my name already?”

“We found a name, but nothing else. You’re unregistered: no birth certificate, no parents, no family, no friends, nothing. We only chanced by the name because Oracle is a monster and found records of your baby face caught on camera for stealing food from a store five years ago.”

Calvin narrowed his eyes, “Who’s Oracle?”

“You don’t know who Ora— oh yeah, amnesia.” Jake gave a sigh. “Oracle’s the one running a large part of the entire Vanguard network. They have access to the city network as well, but nothing outside of looking for villains and terrorists.”

“And that includes child thieves?” Calvin added, his brows furrowing at the idea of an AI overlord surveilling his every move.

“Just how it works, kid,” Jake told him flatly. “You were a minor anyway. Still are, although you’re turning seventeen soon. But still, there’s no worries.”

He narrowed his eyes at the detective following the information, “I thought all you know is my birthday?”

“Some science people figured out a way, or there’s tinker tech for that, I have no idea. All I know is that you’re sixteen and something months old from what the doctor wrote in your file.”

“Invasion of privacy.”

“No such thing.” He scoffed. “Anyway, so we’ll have you registered in a minute. You just have to—”

“What’s the point? What if I don’t want to be registered?”

There was a feeling of unease building in Calvin’s chest. It wasn’t that he minded the surveillance, not as much as most people back on Earth would. To him, it seemed almost a given that a city the size of three megacities needed something like that.

It also wasn’t him not wanting to be in the system like some edgy teenager.

No, it was something else.

‘It feels like I’m stealing Orion’s life.’ He thought, remembering this body’s name. It wasn’t until a week ago that he even remembered that the body he was in wasn’t exactly his. ‘It’s not like I can give it back. But still…’

“Well, for one, no one can steal it,” Jake said, catching his attention with a finger up in the air.

“Steal?”

“Your identity.”

“Ah.”

He nodded and raised another finger, “and two, you’ll need to have it since we’re going to have you signing into a government-mandated Independent Living program.”

“Why would I sign into that?”

“You have a job. A place to live. And you seem to not be starving, so it’s the better choice. Or would you rather get into foster care for six months before you enter the Academy?”

“Sign me up, chief.”

Jake chuckled, “anyway, you’ll need it too for the career you have in mind.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What career do you think I have in mind?”

“You’re going to the Academy kid, you’re either a hero, a tinker, or staff.” He said, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, that’s that. We’re also going to need you signing stuff for the government-mandated next step, which requires you registered first.”

“You keep saying government-mandated.”

“I’m not the one forcing you to. Central is— well. no, Outer City is.”

“What’s the difference?”

“In Central, minors are eighteen and under. Outer city statutes are much looser, and you’ll be registered under Outer City laws,” he gave a tired sigh, “because unfortunately, with your history, you’re going to be treated like an immigrant, so I can’t get you registered in Inner City much less Central.”

“That’s fine,” Calvin admitted, being treated as a minor or not wouldn’t make a difference for him right now. “So what’s the ‘government-mandated next step’?”

“We need to get you a psychologist or a therapist.”

Calvin paused, “why?”

“You’re an amnesiac, remember?”

“I don’t.”

“Take this seriously.” He said, suppressing the amusement. “Whether you like it or not, there’s something in your head that will be useful to the investigations of the kidnapping case.”

Calvin raised a brow. “Which one?”

“The first one.” Jake clarified with a frown. “The more recent one— well, it’s not like you’re the only survivor. So your input isn’t as important.”

“Ouch.”

“Just how we see it, kid.” He shrugged. “So we’ll be getting you someone that can help you with remembering that, preferably someone with a power.”

A super psychologist?”

“Never heard them called that before. But yes, or a super therapist.”

Calvin felt conflicted. He didn’t know how it would be getting back Orion’s memories, nor what that would imply. Would it be better to live in blissful ignorance, or risk his own self getting taken over? Neither sat well with him.

He also didn’t know how much of an impact it would have in his life or in this world if it was discovered that he was an extradimensional immigrant. He honestly would rather not it come to light. This world had supervillains and evil scientists, there’s a non-zero chance he’d get kidnapped for a third time and prodded with evil science sticks.

Calvin asked after a lengthy rumination, “do I have to?”

“That’s what ‘government-mandated’ means, kid.”

“What happens if it doesn’t work? My memories don’t come back?”

“Then live your new life, as Calvin. You’re still young, you got a relatively useful power, and you got relatively powerful friends.” Jake reassured, yet his tone remained flat. “There’s not much we can do if you can’t remember. It’ll be helpful if you do, not just with the kidnapping, but also with your identity. With Orion.”

“I see…”

Jake stared at Calvin looking down in deep thought. There was a glimmer of sympathy in his gaze, but this wasn’t the first time he was handling a kid that has gone through shit before. There were worse ones out there, and they didn’t come out as well-adjusted as Calvin seemed to be.

He sighed and asked, “anyway, any more questions?”

“So, register, then get a therapist?”

“A super therapist.”

“But, I’m poor.”

“It’s government-mandated.”

“So it’s free?”

“For you, kid. It’s Council money, but yeah, not a single credit out of your pocket.” Jake explained. “They’ll drop in money for that, along with a stipend when you get signed up for the program.”

“Hmm…” Hearing money, Calvin started thinking of a plan. “So I can choose the therapist?”

Present day

Calvin’s steps were usually silent, thanks to the [Comfortable Red Sneakers] that muffled them in an eerie manner. Yet the thuds of his measured stomps still echoed off the empty and unfeeling cement walls of the hallway he was walking through. It reminded him of the kidnapper’s base but in a more ‘liminal’ manner.

Each door he passed through had the same plaque with a number and a name, the same plant with a flower, and the same doormat saying ‘Welcome’. It was almost like walking through a nightmare, which was ironically what he was here for.

Arriving at the memorized number and name, he knocked on the door and grabbed the knob. A waft of nature, honey, and cheese assaulted him as he cracked the door open. “Miss Marzi? Are you in here?”

He swung it fully, showing the cozy cottage-core room in its entirety. He used to feel the whiplash from the drastic change in aesthetic, given the building both in and out was the poster child for urban hell, but somehow in all his time in this world, this was one of the least crazy things he’d experienced so far— relatively speaking.

‘This just doesn’t feel weird anymore. Is that bad?’ Calvin thought about the evolving aberrations in his common sense, looking at the change in scenery and feeling that it was only natural. ‘No, I’m just adapting. It’s fine. This is normal. I’m normal.’

While Calvin was coping internally, a woman entered from another door in the room while carrying a tray of juice and snacks. “Calvin? Huh, is it the end of the week already?”

Miss Marzi, as Calvin called her, was a middle-aged woman who predominantly wore sundresses that fit perfectly in the aesthetic of the room they were in. It was unprofessional, but Calvin didn’t mind. Although she seemed to shiver a lot at times, especially outside of the warm room, her insistence to conform with the aesthetic was admirable if nothing else.

“Unfortunately, yeah.” Calvin joked, walking into the room towards a sofa that lay next to the fireplace. A flame roared to life as he neared, radiating a comforting warmth that he always looked forward to when they were having their sessions.

Marzi sat on a red chair that screamed ‘therapist-chair’ opposite him, putting down the tray on the rustic coffee table in between them. “How are you, Calvin? You want some juice?”

“I’m fine, Miss Marzi.” He habitually declined. No matter how appetizing the food she brought looked, the woman in front of him consistently used a beehive’s worth of honey in everything she made. ‘I don’t want to have super cavities. Or super diabetes.’

“Suit yourself.” She smiled gleefully, pouring herself a cup. “So, how have you been?”

“Same as usual, you know? Exercise, bathe, work, hang out with friends, then sleep and have a panic-inducing nightmare that wakes me up in a cold sweat. Nothing different.”

“You had one again this week?” Marzi asked worriedly.

“Twice actually, but the other one was about zombies, so I don’t think it’s the same thing.”

“I see,” She put down the juice cup and reached underneath the table for a clipboard. Flipping through the papers clipped on the object, she looked towards him still concerned, “oh, by the way, you said last week you felt like an undercooked pancake left in the freezer. I still have no idea what that means, Calvin.”

“You’re the therapist, Miss Marzi.”

“Therapist, not… riddle-solver. Or whatever this is,” she pouted. “And we’re only doing this because my power doesn’t work on you.”

“And because I’m splitting the government honey with you.” He said with a smirk.

“Free clinics don’t pay a lot.” She defended herself.

“I know, that’s why I went here.”

Part of his deal with Marzi was that they’d ‘pretend’ to have therapy sessions while splitting the money she gets for the therapy. Supposedly, she was to use her power to stimulate a part of my brain into remembering forgotten memories as naturally as they could. Whatever her power is, it’s weak and non-damaging to an already— ‘supposedly’ damaged mind, which was why Jake had approved of it.

What the detective didn’t know was her power didn’t work on him. And neither would any of the other super therapists’ if he guessed correctly.

Marzi knew, though, as he had steeled himself to tell her. He needed to tell her, or he’ll be having weekly sessions colouring the poor woman’s carpet with his vomit. Surprisingly, the woman didn’t mind, as at most, it was a circumstance he’d rather not tell her about and not anything egregiously illegal. She was a therapist, not an interrogator.

“Let’s take a step back, talk about that dream you had.” She steered the conversation away from the less-than-legal deal.

“Acting like a proper therapist now?”

“I am a proper therapist.” She said flatly before giving a sigh. “We’re friends now, at the very least. I want to help you even if it’s just you telling me stories.”

Calvin stared at her for a moment before giving her a nod. “Thanks.”

She gave him a knowing smile before turning back to her clipboard, “same dream again?”

“Similar, but not the same. Never the same. It’s always different legs swinging by, different cracks on the street, different signs, buildings, everything— it’s like I’m touring the entirety of Outer City with every dream.”

“Where were you this time?”

“I don’t know, there wasn’t a street sign or a map. It looked just like any other street.”

“In Outer City?”

“The streets were decrepit and unmaintained, where else would it be?” Calvin scoffed. “No place other than Outer City.”

“Have you tried looking for the places in your dreams?”

“No.” He said with a shake of his head.

He considered it, but there was a lingering fear inside him. If it was Orion’s memories, what would happen to him if he remembered? What would happen to Calvin?

It wasn’t like there were any other cases like him being transmigrated into another world, or into another body. It’s famous in various literature, but consulting that as gospel would be like using Sims as a guide on how to live life.

“Are you still not sure if they’re memories?” Marzi asked the question.

“They feel like memories. Just not my own.” He answered honestly. “It’s like— reading a book… or watching a movie through the eyes of someone else. Except I can also feel what they feel, and think what they think.”

“I see.” She muttered, writing something on her clipboard. “Is there anything that caught your eye with the latest nightmare?”

“Not much— ah, no. The super, I could see them more clearly this time.” He said, remembering the dream. “Other times they were just flying blobs or dots, but this time, it was clear. Red cape and blue suit.”

“Red cape and blue suit…” She echoed, tapping her pen on the clipboard as she sank deep in thought for a moment. “I’ll be honest with you Calvin, that’s one of the most generic suits you’ll see a super wear.”

“Yeah, but it’s not a blob or a dot like last time.”

Marzi chuckled, “it’s not. We can start looking for a list of heroes with that general description if you want. I doubt you’d get anything out of it, but still, you might remember more?”

“Can we put a pin on that?” Calvin said after a pause.

“Whatever you want, Calvin.” She smiled. “How did it make you feel?”

“I don’t know… mad? Annoyed? Felt like the world was being unfair? How would anyone feel about anything like this? It’s just—”

Their ‘session’ continued on as usual for the next hour, the minimum amount of time for their therapy to be considered legitimate. Calvin spoke little of the dream afterward, prompting Marzi to swim alongside him and go with whatever flow he was trying to make instead.

Most of the time was filled with stories from Calvin’s discovery of new things in the world, followed by Marzi bursting his bubble by telling him the reality of it.

“So Superheroes don’t actually get paid per person saved?” Calvin asked, his dreams of riches deflating.

“Of course not, it’ll just make them want to risk more lives to get paid more,” Marzi said with a chuckle. “It’s a rumour that got out of hand since most supers aren’t transparent with how they get paid.”

“How do they get paid, then?”

“Based on ranks. You probably heard it before, right? There are seven ranks, Rank 1 being the lowest, then it gets spotty from there.”

“Spotty?”

“This is all just guesswork and hearsay, but at some point, they say it’s impossible to go up the ladder just by doing harder missions. Maybe you have to save an entire city, or get commended by another super… who knows?”

“Huh. Why though?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe—”

Their attention was caught by the faint ringing of a tiny bell on top of Marzi’s work desk. Calvin subconsciously looked at his watch, noting the slew of messages from Quinn.

“It’s been an hour already?” Marzi said in surprise, glancing from the bell to the emptied jug of diabetes. “I’ll see you next week, then?”

“Ah, I’m going to the Academy by then. How’s this going to work?” Calvin spoke while standing up.

“You can still visit here if you want, or we can reschedule to fit whatever schedule you’re going to get at the Academy.” She reassured him. “How’s that, by the way? Excited?”

Calvin scratched his cheek. “Kinda. It’s the first— well, I’ve never gone to school before, you know? It feels exciting and scary.”

“That’s normal.” She said and nodded. “My first day of internship was like that too, it’ll wear off in a day or two. The scary part, at least.”

“Good to know.” He nodded, feeling another vibration on his wrist.

Quinn: HEPL ME

Quinn: PLEAS

“Yeah, I’ll see you later Miss Marzi.” He waved goodbye to her before leisurely walking out of the door and heading to the gym.

Marzi waved goodbye to Calvin before letting out a sigh of frustration. With a wave of her hand, she summoned a holopad from her pocket and placed it on the coffee table. A display screen appeared before her, which she clumsily navigated to find a certain scruffy man’s image.

A video replaced the display, one showing the detective who approached her before meeting Calvin.

“Huh— oh, hey. Is it the weekend already?” Jake spoke. Marzi could tell he was tired without being a trained therapist, just from the dark bags underneath his eyes.

“You okay there, Detective?” She felt the need to ask just to be polite to the one paying her twice.

“No, there’s so much shit going on in the PD. The Monarchs are causing chaos with their recruitment, a key suspect in the kidnapping case got murked in fucking custody, and some of the goddamn council members are trying to—”, the detective stopped his rant, taking in a deep breath before giving her a wry smile, “—sorry, I need to get my mind off those assholes for a moment. So, what’s the nightmare of the week for the kid? Anything new?”

“Same thing as before. Starving, begging, nothing.” She relayed, “oh, he did mention a red-caped hero with a blue suit passing by above.”

“Not a dot this time?”

“Uhuh. Any idea who that could be?”

“There are probably thousands of heroes and villains that wear something like that.” He groaned, but still, he jotted it down on his holowatch. “I’ll try and get a list made. But is that really it?”

“Unfortunately.” She nodded. “Did you find anything on your end?”

He massaged the bridge of his nose while shaking his head to answer her, “same as before. All those locations exist but not in the way they do in his dreams, nor in the way they would’ve looked if he was at that age. Or any age for that matter. It doesn’t make sense how he dreams of places from more than twenty years ago.”

Marzi scratched her cheek, hesitating for a moment whether or not to speak out, “He has— actually, I think he’s hiding something.”

“You think?”

“It’s suspicious.”

“Just do your therapy part, Miss Marzi. I’ll do the detective part.”

“I was just trying to— fine,” she rolled her eyes adding in a whisper: “rude snippy son of a—”

“I’ve deposited this month’s pay on your account, by the way.”

“I’m ever-so-grateful for your benevolence—”

Now it was Jake’s turn to roll his eyes, “keep updating me, especially if there’s anything new, okay?”

“Are you sure? It’s been six months. I mean— I’m not complaining about the credits or the work, but we’re getting nowhere.”

“I know, but it gives me a reason to dodge some annoying meetings in the PD,” Jake said with a sly smile. “Also lets me keep an eye on the kid. For all we know he’s a big part of this whole… thing. I just— he’s somehow special, we just need to know why.”

“What if he’s not?”

“He is the only one that survived the kidnapping cases. Every other child is either dead or in a coma with no sign of waking up. He also got involved in another case with the same damn power-sucking pods, although he seems to be hailed as a savior by the other kids at that time. I shouldn’t even mention the fact that he knows how to access Villainopolis, or the fact that his holowatch is rigged to high heavens with tech we almost didn’t detect, or the fact that his only two friends are both daughters of some very fucking influential people, or the fact that his history—”

“I get it, okay? He’s suspicious.” Marzi interrupted him. “I’ll keep an eye out, just do your detective thing.”

“I'm sorry, the stress— talk again next week.”

Marzi turned off the screen before grumbling, “rude, snippy, son of a—”

“I can still hear you Miss Marzi.”