CHAPTER ONE
John or Johnno to his friends didn't like what his life had become, when his family had moved from Australia to America a few years ago they had assumed it would be to a better life, a better place, a safe place. Oh, how wrong he was, they should have just stayed and then none of this would have happened. He thought back to how it all started. As his mind raced back to the beginning he watched Brockton Bay burn around him as he stood alone on top of one of the few remaining larger buildings, his team mates dead, lost or deserted him.
Their city at that time Adelaide had recently been devastated by a massive fight between parahumans while the countries national super hero group was busy fighting an endbringer elsewhere. His family had moved to Brockton Bay as George, his father, had some distant family there, the Herbert's or something close to that name. He didn't get the chance to meet them though because shortly after they had moved to Brockton, the Docks where his dad had worked started laying off droves of workers and shutting down most operations. In one of the riots that followed the mass firing and downsizing they received news his father had been killed. Whom by though, nobody knew, all he knew was that at sixteen he was now expected to make money somehow as the loss of his father sent his mother Elene into an breakdown and now she could only do little but stay at home and drink to cope with her loss. Luckily he was an only child so he only had to care for his mum and himself.
At first it was hard for him, no one wanted an unskilled student worker, all the retail jobs were taken and hospitality jobs required training he could not afford. He managed to make the family's money last but soon it was not going to be enough, the bills were getting close to overdue and he was struggling at school from the pressure.
That all changed when an ABB gang member at school tried to jump him, he fought back and gave as good as he got, throwing wild punches and kicks. He had no formal training but knew if you fought back hard enough they would think twice about trying again later, even if they won. When the gang member saw John wasn't going down easy he started reaching into his pants to pull something out. A gun? A knife? In Winslow High you got used to the unexpected with the gangs, hell last week he saw an Empire eighty eight kid pull an cut down baseball bat out of his pants, no idea how he hid that all day.
However, just before the ABB kid could pull out whatever was in his pants he was crash tackled by a skinhead built like a brick shithouse. The teen with what seemed like more muscles than sense used the momentum to lay into the downed asian boy until he finally stopped trying to get up. By that time members from both gangs had arrived and were staring daggers at each other as both boys were dragged back to their respective groups and relative safety, the beaten ABB member was leaning heavily on another gang member but didn't appear seriously injured. Now though, they were just waiting for an excuse or the other side to make a move. John may have just been saved but in no way was happy, now he owed the skinheads… crap.
Just as it seemed a full on brawl was about to erupt the teachers and principal Blackwell finally arrived to break it up. No one was admonished or sent to the office as the school did not care as long as no one was seriously hurt ,or god forbid, killed.
When he had first started at Winslow the gangs had tried to recruit him, with his large build, height and the muscles from working on the land, he was scouted by the Skinheads, the Merchants and by a third group whose name he didn't recall. The ABB didn't even try (for obvious reasons), they just sneered and spouted racist comments about himself and Australia. Needless to say, he rejected all offers. He was not stupid, he knew if he accepted he would be branded as a gang member or associate of them, at the very least, for the rest of his life. So he made sure he did not accept anything from anyone that could count as a favour. Hell, anyone wearing gang colours were avoided as they would use said favour to leverage bigger favours later on. Now though, as he saw the large skinhead walk toward him, he suspected he was well and truly buggered.
As the two gangs split up to leave, John pulled himself together, squared his shoulders, brushed himself off and wiped away the blood. Hopefully he can talk his way out of this situation or at least into a smaller favour. After a very short chat he found himself with a set of instructions to meet up outside his house after school as it turned out that yes, they knew where he lived. Damnit, which explains why the house was so cheap, with it smack dab right in the middle of Empire territory as it was.