AN: There are references to several things I don't own which will be addressed in more detail later.

Hero Signal

High above the congested streets of Domino City, Atari watched through cyber binoculars the city's top superhero in action. He adjusted the acuity of the device as the man spun, disappearing into what would have been a blur to the naked eye.

He pressed the die swinging from his ear twice and it beeped, "Siri, what's his speed?"

"Calculating," the robotic female voice said and Atari couldn't help an impatient sigh, "which of the two are you referring to?"

"I'm talking about, oh never mind." He refocused his binoculars when the spinning figure stopped and proceeded to snake his way up the building, after his prey.

"Siri, what's his speed now? And I mean the one that's following."

"Calculating, please wait." So close to his ear, he could almost hear the tiny machinery that made up Siri whirl, "The speed of the chaser is 95 miles per hour which is approximately 152.8 kilometres per hour."

"Is that the fastest he can go?"

"Checking my sources." Pause. "No, his maximum speed is 152.5 miles per hour on foot, which is approximately 245.42 kilometres per hour."

"Well at least you're accurate," he mumbled, fiddling with the binocular's controls as he attempted to accurately trace the man's moves while keeping from losing sight of him. He figured he should have played around more with this new model before he went on his field research but he seemed so much like the previous model that he didn't bother. Now he was starting to regret it because important information could be lost. Siri's inconvenient lagging wasn't much help either.

A green digital dialogue box popped up in front of him when a turn switch apparently clicked the right way and he selected the 'zoom and scan' option. Suddenly he was looking at a very close-up view of the hem of the man's top, the device showing him a whole bunch of rapidly changing numbers.

"Siri," he clicked the die with a twitching hand, inwardly begging it to work faster this time. Whatever these numbers meant, he felt he'd regret it if he lost this bit of information, "what's this thing telling me?"

"Please wait…" Oh for the love of g- "it is currently assessing the make-up of that material."

"You mean the material of his suit?"

"Yes."

Atari balanced the binoculars carefully in both gloved hands, careful not to touch any of the buttons while it worked. Such a view was like snapshot that had been taken out of real time and he wasn't sure if the man was still there anymore. The numbers kept jumping and he was tempted to take his eyes away and check if the man was still there – even though at such a distance, it would have been useless. When they finally slowed down and the last digit was clicked into place, he nearly yanked Siri from his ear.

"Okay, so what does this stuff mean?" He quickly read each number, the prolonged pause that came after grinding at his nerves.

"Spring muscles, core layer, 132.863 micrometres thick. Carbon nanotubes, artificial muscles, 362.96 micrometres thick. Exoskeleton, carbon fibre joint plates, 224.34 micrometres thick. Altogether, including stitching and finish, the suit is 5.34 millimetres thick."

"What? Are you sure?"

"According to my sources, this is the interpretation of the numbers you have just read."

Atari stared hard at the numbers arrested on the screen, wondering if he'd missed a digit or something. He read the numbers to Siri again and the female voice repeated verbatim what she'd said before.

"Siri," he changed his tactic, unable to believe the results, "how reliable is this thing?"

"This thing – the 784GGP Cyber Bioactive Binoculars?"

"Yes."

"Please wait while I check my sources." He inhaled deeply and clawed at his leather pants, the one hand still holding up the binoculars starting to shake from fatigue. Something that high-tech wasn't exactly light, though with some technical ingenuity it probably could have been.

"The 784GGP Cyber Bioactive Binoculars is accurate up to one ten-millionth of a decimal place." She finally said.

He was going to have to think about this, deeply. Atari drew his wiry eyes away from the lenses and settled the device on his lap so his arm could rest. He felt blind without it but he figured this was what the average Joe saw all the time. "Next thing you'll tell me, that ridiculous hair is real."

"Please wait while I check my sources."

"Oh shut up."

Tiny lights blinked up at him from a darkened audience while stage lights flooded down on him from above. Otogi slipped on his public personality like a tailored suit, his charming smile very familiar and comfortable on his face. He waved a gloved hand at the large, transparent screen behind him, select buttons embedded in his glove lighting up as he did so. The stage dimmed as commanded except for the screen, which would be the focus of his presentation.

"I always look forward to visiting Domino University," he began, looking out at a sea of faceless heads and making pretence of focusing on a few students at random as he spoke, "you always have the best-looking audiences."

There was a predictable rumble of laughter, which quickly died down as he wiggled the fingers of his gloved hand like a magician about to perform a trick. A different combination of lights flicked on this time, summoning a three-dimensional image of a featureless person on the screen. "Now it's only been a year so a lot of this might be repeated info for some of you out there but," he laughed sheepishly, "sometimes my own creations gets ahead of me and even I need to slow down and recap. But don't worry, I'll make sure to get to the good stuff A-SAP."

Some scattered chuckling and a few here and there saying something to the respect that they didn't mind. Otogi moved on, stepping slightly in front of the screen so that his profile cast a shadow against it, "So you know by now what my suit does," the image zoomed in to focus on the figure's thigh, "At the core is a base layer of alcohol-powered spring muscles that give you the strength to lift several hundred times your own weight."

With a flick of his finger, the image zoomed back out and the person was made to spin so that it could be viewed at every angle. Plated armour flew in from every direction of the screen, covering the figure from head to toe, "In order to do this without your bones breaking under the pressure, you have an exoskeleton made of lightweight jointed plates of reinforced carbon fibre. They're especially reinforced here, here and here," he highlighted the joints, vertebrae and neck, "and have attachment points on the inside of what I call the 'working layer.'"

"So, what's the 'working layer'?" Otogi clapped his hands as if to emphasize his point. Instead, this changed the image on the screen so that the audience now stared at what looked like fine black thread being woven on a spindle. "My favourite material in the world. The stuff is practically ancient but it still works like a dream." He stepped backwards into the darkness so the screen was completely unblocked, "Carbon nanotubes. Transparent, lighter than air, about 1/10 000th the width of human hair and the strongest known material on Earth." Otogi flicked to a demonstration of its durability, "It can function at extremes of temperature – from the melting point of steel," the audience 'ohhed' and 'ahhed' at this, "- down to near Absolute Zero. A thick enough sheet can stop hyperbullets and when a current is passed through it, it'll contract 1000 times faster than human muscle."

Before the wide-eyed onlookers – at least the ones who hadn't seen this demonstration before – could take all this in, Otogi switched back to his 3-D person. "I think you can guess what this means. With a thick enough sheet of this bad boy, my suit gets a layer of artificial muscles that'll let you stop hyperbullets, lift trains, go into burning buildings unscathed and endure the icy waters of the Antarctic no problem."

Even though he couldn't see their faces, Otogi knew he had them hanging off his every word. There would have been more noise from their direction if they were bored; whispering, restless feet, people trying to scurry away, but they were transfixed, waiting on baited breath for him to unveil his next miracle.

"My newest 3011 model has all the classics, but with a couple of new, shiner features." He held out that gloved hand and the generic person on his screen became more defined as detailed features were moulded into its entire being. The end product was a very attractive, toned man. "Like what you see?" Some noise sprung from the group but he was sure it was for a good reason. "The entire suit, with all three layers at full capacity, is now only half a millimetre thick. This – in addition to other perks – gives you the best mobility yet. And mobility is kind of important."

Laughter, mostly female.

"But it gets better." He gave an exaggerated swing of his hips as the turned from the audience back to the screen, "I've given my suit X-ray vision." A moving demonstration materialized as he spoke, "Goggles that emit and receive X-rays, which I call, more specifically, 'Back-scattered X-ray vision.' Basically, what you see is sent to a tiny LED screen that sits on your eye like a contact lens. It does all the work and you'll be able to see through walls – and clothes."

He flicked to what would be the last demonstration of the night. "And how about the ability to read minds? Well you can do that with this – a wearable MRI machine." Whispers rose from the masses and Otogi paused to indulge in it before continuing, "A glove, kind of like this one," he raise his hand, wiggling his fingers, "with atomic magnetometers attached that will sense the electro-magnetic field of the brain. Gotta admit, the X-ray vision is hotter but this one's a pretty sweet deal too."

At this point, where his 3-D man - equipped in his full artillery - stood proudly in front of the onlookers, Otogi froze the screen. With a subtle hand gesture that went largely unnoticed, the lighting around the space came back to life. The people winced, some rubbing their eyes as they tried to adjust. For the first time that night, he got to see their faces and, despite their haziness, he knew he'd done his job yet again.

"This, faculty and students of Domino University, is the latest offering from Duel Tech." Otogi quirked his head and smirked, "Any questions?"

At first, they just stared. Some managed to keep their awe at bay with controlled stoicism while most were grinning ear to ear. A couple of people shook their heads, muttering silently under their breaths. Finally, a hand.

"How much?"

Pertaining personally to the young man who'd asked the question, it was pointless. He, along with every other person in that room, would never have been able to afford it. This was common knowledge as Duel Tech was the Eastern hemisphere's leading company in luxury, electronic products. But each model had been increasingly expensive and it was just fun to know how much these insanely innovative things cost.

"Seven-point-five billion dollars. USD."

The young man nodded quietly, his eyebrows jumped in a brief moment of admiration/shock before he turned his gaze to the ground. There was a prolonged pause, as if that was the one and only question on everyone's minds. The group's mood was notably dampened, an effect he'd seen across all of his audiences.

"Do you need to be especially fit or be a certain size to use the suit?" The question came from a girl who'd just finished scribbling down everything he'd said. "Like, are only certain people qualified to use it?"

She was obviously new to this but Otogi answered patiently, "The suit is designed to do all the work, you just need to put it on. And anyone can use it; though it would be a better idea to steer clear if you have a heart condition or the like."

"You mean anyone can use it," a third person, someone in the far back whose face he couldn't see, " - as long as they can afford it."

"Yes."

Otogi had passed the apex of his presentation where they looked upon him as some kind of magician or even divine creator. He was now on the downward slide where he had to entertain the people's doubts and deal with the sticky spots that came with being involved in and owning such a business. These were educated minds, after all. Still, he found it amusing that few questions were ever directed at the physics behind his creations (because you'd have to understand it to ask meaningful questions and it was just easier to accept it).

"So only the rich can own one of your suits and be a superhero. You're perpetuating a paradigm in which all it takes to be a superhero is money."

Luckily, Otogi was prepared.

He oriented towards the questioner a little swifter than he intended to, the die hanging from his ear swinging like a pendulum and tapping his cheek. It was warm. He had forgotten to turn it – her – off. "You make a valid point," he said, shedding some of his natural tendency to perform, "But I'm not perpetuating any paradigm, I'm just interested in turning one of my favourite science fiction fantasies into a reality."

Otogi would have, to establish some kind of power balance, straightened his tie or smoothed out his suit jacket if he wore either. But he didn't. He was in his usual dark leather pants with a matching black tank and a red vest over it for some colour. It had become his trademark outfit but that wasn't why he wore it. He liked the outfit because it felt so much like his 'suit.' "You can't deny that you were interested, impressed even, with what you saw. For over a millennium, people have dreamed about this and have done everything in their power to get as close to it as possible. That's why they had CGI films that gave the illusion of its reality. That's also why fanatics vehemently sought after collector's items whose creators took the time and energy to replicate the product right down to the smallest detail." He tugged at his vest, "This is why comic book conventions were so damn huge!"

"But you're charging billions for this thing!"

"Because that's how much it costs to create one. I'm not charging people for the name stamped on it. I'm charging for the cost of materials, labour, machines that had to be invented so that the suit could come together and to keep our buildings standing. And it would be nice, after all of that, to make a reasonable profit as well."

The girl didn't reply but she didn't seem convinced either. She had the look of someone who resigned to quiet helplessness because they weren't equipped with enough knowledge. Otogi continued, "But I'm also aware that my suits are more like weapons than toys so there are checks in place to keep crazy, evil, rich people from destroying the world. If you want to get one, you'd have to go through a procedure similar to those used for people trying to obtain, say, a gun."

The person to whom he was directing his rationalization didn't look any better after that addendum. He figured she must have chosen to stop listening after a certain point and nothing he said thereafter would have made a difference. In the back of the room, the Dean pointed to his watch and held up two fingers.

Otogi couldn't help a sliver of relief, "I have time for one more question."

"Yeah, hi," the person speaking was in the front row; a petite girl that had to crane her neck quite a bit to meet his eye, "I heard that the top superhero in the city – I'm not entirely sure how to pronounce his name, um, Zn.t – doesn't actually use a suit from your company."

"Oh yeah –" Came the person beside her, "and I think his suit is out-dated by like… ten years."

Otogi scratched his elbow, his stomach feeling like it was inverting.

Zn.t.

"Spring muscles, core layer, 355.863 micrometres thick. Carbon nanotubes, artificial muscles, 362.96 micrometres thick. Exoskeleton, carbon fibre joint plates, 224.34 micrometres thick. Altogether, including stitching and finish, the suit is 5.34 millimetres thick."

"The 784GGP Cyber Bioactive Binoculars is accurate up to one ten-millionth of a decimal place."

He licked his bottom lip and forced the corners of his mouth to stretch across his face, "He'll come around."

It had taken several weeks but Atari finally managed to get Siri working the way he wanted her to. He was glad, though slightly apprehensive, to be back on the street doing his tireless research on Zn.t.

If he was to be honest with himself, it wasn't so much research as it was an unhealthy obsession to stalk the man – superhero – because Zn.t's capabilities defied the logic on which he built his company.

Technically, he and Zn.t were on the same side; both "superheroes," both choosing to do good for the city, both enemies of crime. And Atari had been content with this because, at the time when he had been content with it, he'd thought they were equals.

Apparently, that wasn't the case.

Apparently, Zn.t had risen to the status of "top" superhero in the city (collected enough brownie points, gathered enough Boy Scout badges, saved enough damsels in distress; whatever he did) in a suit that was ten years behind the latest technology.

So, consumed with the obsession to find out why and being eaten alive from the inside with jealousy, Atari had altogether given up on his work for the city and compulsively used his nights to search out Zn.t and study him in every way he could imagine. Thus far, he'd only had his fears reaffirmed over and over again but had not arrived at an answer, or even a hypothesis, that he so desperately needed.

Searching the entire city wasn't easy, even with the 3011 model. But the searching was only part of the work. It took some work pinning the man down once Atari found him and the slow-ass technology (created by other people) often hindered rather than helped him.

Atari expertly spun the zoom on his cyber binoculars to just the right distance, catching a familiar shock of red, black and blonde, "Oh that hair. Maybe I should stop ragging on it since it's helped me so much."

Zn.t was surrounded by a group about seven, all with some sort of weapon and Atari was sure that what they held in their hands was only a sneak peek at what they were really packing. That was how it always was, these hooligan kids thinking they can beat his suits as long as they emptied out their kitchen drawers.

Atari gave him ten seconds but Zn.t got the work done in seven before sprinting off so fast it looked like he'd disappeared.

"Shit," he cursed, reaching up to his ear to press the die, "Did you get that Siri?"

"He went East and accelerated to 98 miles per hour in five seconds. He should be 12 blocks down the street by now."

He was about to take off himself but stopped, and involuntarily shuttered, when he sensed a presence behind him.

"Do you not think I knew what you were doing?"

The voice was rich and deep but with a hard edge, like frozen dark chocolate. Atari, debating how he was going to come clean (or if he'd come clean at all) could hear the man's cape flapping in the wind.

Seriously, a cape.

Atari adjusted his mask, "I was studying you."

"So you were." Zn.t stepped up to him so they were side-by-side, "Did you learn anything interesting?"

"Somewhat." He didn't bother trying to hide the binoculars. "You're a good fighter and a hard worker."

It took more willpower for him to say that than he'd liked, Atari pissed off and frustrated with himself for not being able to look the man in the face. It was the guilt and shame of being caught red-handed. He was reduced to something akin to a little mouse scurrying off when the lights flicked on. This was not how a superhero should feel; it was definitely not how an executive should feel.

"You'd think with hair like that, people would have no trouble spotting you in your day life."

"You'd think with a talking die dangling from your ear like that, people would have no trouble spotting you in your day life."

Atari tensed, half turning to the man beside him but Zn.t held up a reassuring hand, "Don't worry, your identity is safe with me."

"Really?"

Through the holes of Zn.t's mask, Atari saw his red eyes blink, "We are both, technically, on the side of justice after all. Do you think I would blackmail you with this information?"

His extra thin suit was no defence against the cold that was creeping onto his skin, "You would, in a way, get rid of competition if you did so." His voice felt small and unfamiliar.

"I would also be short one ally if I did that." Zn.t opened his mouth, closed it, and turned to Atari, crossing his arms over his leather chest, "You and I clearly have a different understanding of what it means to do this work. And I find this very interesting because I would assume that, as the creator of these suits, you would know what it means to be a superhero far better than me."

Atari faced Zn.t before he even realized he was doing so, "You're saying we see things differently and I'm the one in the wrong?"

"There needs to be some heart in this work or else it would be a completely different creature altogether, Atari." His tone was softer, rich but warm this time.

"Well I agree with you on that point. I want the scum in this city scrubbed off the curb as much as you do."

Zn.t brought a hand up to cup Atari's cheek. It was warm, which was probably due to the extra few millimetres of clothes Zn.t had that Atari didn't. Zn.t's face came up close, almost uncomfortable close, "I want you to succeed," he paused, "but another ten years from now, this suit will still beat yours if you continue in the mindset you're in now." He moved to whisper in Atari's ear, "You can consider that a challenge, Otogi."

There was a 'whoosh' and Zn.t was gone. The only signs that he was ever there was a tingling on Atari's cheek and the tail end of a rather expensive cologne.

Cologne, even on the job. Atari snorted, though he couldn't help feeling a little less disdain for the man because of it.

-End-

References:

Title: One of Judai's trap cards from Yu-Gi-Oh! GX.

Atari: A corporate and brand name owned by several entities since its inception in 1972. It is best known for its video games.

Siri: A voice-command function on the iphone 4S that will answer pretty much anything you ask it.

Zn.t: An MdC transliteration of the word Senet, which was a board game played in Ancient Egypt around the 18th Dynasty.

The descriptions of the "super suit" in Otogi's presentation were taken from a series of videos called "The Physics of the Impossible: Superhumans," the ideas of which, of course, I totally don't own.