Seven Steps to Becoming a Superhero

Step One: Superhero school is for suckers.

Standing amid the opal castle-like structures, Zack Kestler already felt a million miles away. His mind didn't dwell on his upcoming classes starting next week, nor did he have any worries for his impending so-called college career. Between his cropped hay-colored hair and book bag slung over his open plaid shirt, he certainly looked the part of an average college student, even if Innshadow University was anything but average.

He was thinking how much his father would have hated that he wound up in a place like this.

“This is the promenade. It’s where students come to study, eat, make out,” a sing-song voice beside him said. “Personally, I don’t recommend any of those options. The fliers make it unbearable.”

His guide was a vapid blonde wearing denim shorts and an oversized black Innshadow U hoodie. He couldn’t quite remember her name? Brooke? Britney? Brenna?

Zack figured it would come to him eventually.

“Did you say flies?” he asked.

“Fliers,” the guide said before she went back to looking at her smartphone, as she had done multiple times during this tour. “Give it a minute or two.”

As if on cue, several shapes darted past him, sending his tour guide’s long blonde locks sweeping in every direction. She didn’t even bother to look up for her phone. The figures buzzed by, only separated from the concrete paths by a few feet at most. Zack squinted his eyes, recognizing each shape as a college kid his age, hollering as they excitedly flew through the air at thankfully subsonic speed.

“The promenade’s one of the only places fliers can practice without getting skewered on a spire or crashing into a gargoyle,” the young woman said as she typed something onto her smartphone.

Zack regarded the grounds of Innshadow University. It stuck out like a Gothic eyesore amid the flat cornfields of northern Illinois. Black concrete reached to the sky in jagged and ornate fashion in every building, which were clustered together in tight fashion and dotted with gargoyles and grotesques encased in stony grimaces.

He could already spot several students practicing parkour by dashing from rooftop to rooftop. Innshadow University’s unique architecture certainly made it one of the premiere Superhero Accreditation programs in the country.

Or so the brochure said.

Zack turned back to his guide, still glued to her phone.

“Anything good?” he asked.

“Just the Dean asking me for the thirtieth time how the tour was going,” she said. “You must be something special. What was your name again?”

“Zack. Kestler.” he said. The blonde pursed her lips, as if deep in thought. For a moment, Zack’s heart stopped. He dropped his father’s name enough to get into this place. He didn’t need to be recognized anymore than he already was. Notoriety could only open so many doors before it exposed Zack to unwanted attention.

“Nope, doesn’t ring a bell,” she said as she started to walk away.

“I’m nothing special,” Zack shrugged. His tour guide regarded him for a moment. Zack felt his heartbeat slow once more. Something about the way the girl’s blue eyes shined unnerved him. Did she mention her powers? He really hoped she wasn’t a psychic - he had enough trouble dating a telepath in high school.

“You go to New York if you want to be good. You go to LA if you want to be famous. You go to Innshadow if you want to have any hope of repaying your college loans,” Brooke or Breanne or Blake said. “So which one are you?”

Zack shifted uncomfortably for a moment. Despite his guide’s words, Innshadow wasn’t exactly cheap. He had to max out two of his dad’s credit cards and clear out his bank account to even afford tuition.

“I’m undecided,” Zack replied.

That was a lie. He knew exactly what brought him here. The memories came the moment he uttered his falsehood. Zack found himself sliding into the cold embrace of trauma, cruel in its comfort.

His answer succeeded in satisfying his tour guide, if only for the moment. She began to walk down the promenade.

“Come on,” she said. “We’re almost done.”

Zack followed, but his thoughts drifted back to what really brought him here.

Two years to this day, Zack had found his father lying on the kitchen floor, covered in blood.

***

One month ago, Zack sat in the Dean’s office. The office appeared smaller than Zack expected, barely big enough to accommodate the three people presently residing within it. Dean Weave’s desk took up most of the tiny office. So many picture frames covered the walls that Zack couldn’t be sure what color the wallpaper was, with each picture showcasing Dean Weave posing with various celebrities and heads of state.

“Is that Captain Armadillo?” Zack said, gawking at a silly hero in an oversized rubber costume shaking hands with a much younger Weave.

Robert Weave himself sat at the desk, his shoulder slumped against his reclining office chair, even at the expense of his posture, revealing a sagging gut in the process. Years of bureaucracy and administration hadn’t done the one-time superhero any favors, judging by his gray-streaked brown hair and lined face.

“Yes it is! He didn’t attend here, but he did a couple programs on breaking into the entertainment biz here,” he said. “Real sweet guy.”

Weave turned his attention away from the photos to Zack.

“So the son of Knightbrand wants to attend Innshadow U?” Dean Weave smirked. “Well, this is a day I thought I’d never see.”

“Unfortunately, our deadlines are very clear…and passed,” the woman next to Dean Weave said. She towered an inch or two taller than Weave, wearing a neatly-tailored pantsuit which showcased an athletic physique. Her brown hair was neatly tied into a bun, and she looked to be a good twenty years younger than Weave, in her early forties at the most.

“I understand,” Zack squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, trying to show a remorseful amount of submission. His father told him this place was full of soft academics and power-hungry bureaucrats, and nothing he had seen so far had contradicted that.

“Now let’s not be hasty, Miss Shaw,” Weave said. “I’m sure we can make an exception.”

Shaw turned to the Dean. “Classes start in a month. The deadline for registration passed three weeks ago. There won’t be any room–”

“I already have housing,” Zack spoke up. “I found a house for rent on Seventh Street, just a few blocks off-campus.”

Miss Shaw, for her part, did not miss a beat.

“--left in classes. I’m afraid Mr. Kester will simply have to wait until the next semester to register,” she said, her arms tightly hugging her chest.

Weave waved her concerns away. “C’mon, Amber, they can always pull up another chair out of the storage closet down the hall.”

Miss Shaw rolled her eyes.

“You were saying you wanted more first-generation students,” Dean Weave said, gesturing enthusiastically towards Zack. “Well, here you go.”

Miss Shaw turned her attention to Zack, but her closed-off posture didn’t budge an inch.

“His grades are…adequate,” Miss Shaw continued, fixing her gaze upon him. “If only just so.”

“Grades only tell you so much,” Weave said, swirling in his office chair like an excitable child. “What can you tell me about yourself, Mr. Kestler?”

“Well, I was part of a sidekick team. We called ourselves Sideclique,” Zack said.

“That’s catchy!” Weave said.

“Thanks,” Zack replied. “We met in high school, started it up then. And we were the top-rated team in the Chicagoland area.”

“Very impressive,” Weave nodded vigorously.

“Yeah. I lead the team, which a lot of people thought was kinda surprising,” Zack continued. “Since I don’t have any powers.”

“No powers?” Weave said, raising an eyebrow.

“None save for whatever I could pick up on the football field. I also took my team to state two years in a row,” Zack said. “I like to think of myself as a self-made superhero.”

“And yet,” Shaw chimed in. “Your father was one of the most powerful non-affiliated superheroes around.”

“Speaking of your father, I noticed his signature on your admission paperwork,” Shaw said. Zack grimaced at this, hoping his forgery would be sufficient to pass muster.

Shaw continued. “He was one of this institution’s harshest critics. Has his beliefs softened in that regard?”

Zack shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of Miss Shaw. She had definitely been a Supe in a past career, and a damn effective one if this interrogation was any indication.

“I can’t speak to my father’s beliefs,” he said.

“So he never spoke to you about his views on Accreditation?” Weave interjected.

Accreditation - the snake oil Innshadow pedaled for profit. College degrees for superheroes, assuming you could afford the steep tuition cost. Even Innshadow, the “affordable one”, ran into six figures when all was said and done. Accreditation promised legitimacy, connections with law enforcement and invaluable networking opportunities for promising young superheroes, but Zack’s father saw it for what it was - gatekeeping in the highest order.

“Look, I know I’m asking for a lot, but I believe my father wanted…wants me…to have the opportunities he never could,” Zack said. “And that includes attending Innshadow to pursue Accreditation.”

Weave opened a manilla folder, his eyes drifting downward. “I noticed there’s a gap in your records. You graduated high school a little more than a year ago.”

“I took some time off. I needed to find myself,” Zack said. “See the world.”

His world tour had taken him to the slums of Tijuana, Singapore and Hong Kong, fighting through the worst of the worst, all while looking for clues to his father’s murder.

Clues that lead him to this place.

His father served as one of the world’s most recognizable heroes. It was fitting, if not more than a little obvious, that Zack’s investigation led him to the one place his father despised more than anything.Academia.

His father built his armor using nothing more than the busted remains of a Subaru Outback. He funded his night-time activities using the meager profits of the garage he opened with his own sweat and blood. At no point in his superhero career did his father take a class or receive an overpriced degree to tell him how to be a superhero - he did it all on his own, with no permission from anyone.

His views on the matter were very clear. Zack stopped from reminiscing and turned his attention back to the matter at hand. Weave shut the folder and smiled. He then stood up and reached his hand across the over-sized table. Miss Shaw sighed and looked away with a wisp of frustration.

“Innshadow is happy to have you, Zack,” he said. “I think this place is exactly what you’re looking for.”

Zack reached forward to take his soft and squirmy handshake, all while hoping his statement proved true.

***

Breanna or Brooke or Blake finally tucked the phone into the folds of her oversized sweatshirt. She turned to him, her deep blue eyes giving him a rather bored expression.

“Okay, this tour is almost done. Before I leave you, is there anything else you need to see?” she asked.

“Could we maybe run by Administration and Records?” Zack said. He had business there in needed to attend to. His tour guide had other ideas.

“That takes us right back to the beginning!” she said with a frustrating whip of her hair.

His tour guide gave another deep sigh and then, following several amusingly vocal obscenities under her breath, pivoted around and started walking in the opposite direction. Zack watched her leave for several seconds.

“Are you coming or not?” she called out to him, her hands raised in exasperation.

The warm September sun turned the dark gothic shapes of Innshadow into glistening oversized action figures in the bright midday. His tour guide wordlessly directed him to a nondescript building after an awkwardly five minute walk without either exchanging a word.

“There. That’s Administration and Record, the most boring building on campus,” she said. “Anything else?”

Zack started to say his thanks, but his tour guide suddenly gave a shiver, hugging her puffy sweatshirt.

“How the hell did it get so cold all of the sudden?” she said. “It’s still summer.”

Zack’s eyes widened. He pointed past her.

“I think it might have something to do with him,” he said.

A masked figure in a blue and white ski suit stood poised on a nearby statue memorializing Jeremiah Innshadow, the school’s founder, only now the once bronze statue was completely covered in ice. The masked figure leapt down from the now-frozen figure. Icy gusts emanated from two metallic gauntlets outlining his hands.

“Class is over,” the masked man announced. “It’s time for you wannabes to run. The name is Icer and I’m calling the shots now!”

Zack did his best to fight the grin spreading across his features. This was his time now. Every move he had made had led him to this place. Every burnt bridge and friendship lost, every clue and connection, all of it brought him to Innshadow in one way or another.

Now it was time to show exactly what he could do. He locked eyes with the man in the blue mask.

“Get behind me!” He heard his tour guide command in a stringent voice he didn’t expect from the slight blonde girl. She clasped both hands together and closed her eyes. A chain of lightning extended from the girl’s joined hands, narrowly missing the masked man, who slid on an icy path as he ducked out of the way.

He heard the girl curse as a blast of ice shot her way. Zack didn’t see what happened next though.

Instead, Zack left his tour guide to her potentially frozen fate. He didn’t have time for this. He sprinted down the concrete pathway. Already the air around him felt warmer. Zack Kestler ran straight for the Administration and Records building, and never once did he look back.