AN: Hi! This is the first South Park fanfiction I've written, and I'm excited to get into it. Before I start, a few things.

For the most part this fanfiction is going to follow the canon established by the show (up to the end of season 21), with a few exceptions. The first, and most obvious being that the superhero arcs never happened, this also includes anything to do with Professor Chaos (although episodes featuring him may still be referenced, Butter's involvement with the plot of that episode may be slightly different). Any other exceptions will be addressed as the story progresses, but for the most part you can assume if it's happened on screen it's happened before this fanfiction (despite the fact this is an AU to the show).

There will be multiple POVs within this fanfiction. My current notes have me sticking to one a chapter, however this may (and probably will) change as the story progresses. You should hear from most of the cast of heroes at some point in time, so look forward to hearing from your favourite boy (or girl).

Another warning, this fanfiction will include same sex couples (which if you're caught up on the show should be obvious who this is) so if that's not your thing, well you've been warned.

Finally, this is a hobby for me. For the most part I'm not going to be overly strict with schedules, however I'm hoping to get into a rhythm and have certain upload days.

South Park is owned by Matt Stone and Trey Parker. I claim no ownership for any of their characters used within this story.

That's all I have to say, so lets get into it!

-Kenny-

Rain poured heavily from the sky, causing my purple hood to cling to strands of dusty blonde that made up my hair. Despite the rain, I could feel nothing. No cold sensation from the water soaking through my outfit, no breeze rushing across my face from the gusting winds, no piercing pain from the stab wound in my chest. Why? One word.

Adrenalin.

A red beam of light separated me and my attacker, causing him to take a step back, my blood still fresh on his dagger. I wasn't down yet though. I have taken much heavier hits. The destructive force created from the laser pierced the ground into two, creating a crevice at least three metres wide.

"There's one more coming in on the right! Kite, keep up the support. Toolshed, we need some area cover!" a commanding voice bellowed into my earpiece as a raven-haired boy from behind me ran forward.

"Got it!" he yelled, pulling out a drill. Plunging it into the ground, the whirling sound of metal breaking through concrete was deafening, but short lived as six large drill heads pierced our attackers, causing the bastard that stabbed me to fall over. This was my chance.

"Mysterion don't! You're hurt, we can't lose you at this point!" ignoring the voice I ran forward. Using all my strength, I jumped as far as I could. Time seemed to slow down as I lost speed, arms desperately reaching for a ledge outside of my grasp. I wasn't going to make it. I was going to fall.

A flash of dusty blonde covered my eyes as my hair blew forward. The wind had changed directions. Two hands grasped onto mine, changing my velocity. Not only did we travel over the crevice, we continued forward to my target. With a swing, I felt the hands release their grip, launching me towards my enemy.

The man stumbled around and picked up his knife, arming himself. Before he could plunge it back into my skin, a swift kick by yours truly knocked it from his hand, sending it flying across the ground. Landing square on my two feet, I followed up with a roundhouse kick to his head, seeing a tooth fly from his mouth.

"Mysterion, catch!" I turned to the raven-haired boy who had thrown his drill into the air. Catching it in my right hand, I pointed it at the man on the ground. The head of the drill enlarged into a point, and I pulled the trigger.

Bzzzzzzt!

The rumble was the most realistic sensation I had felt this entire night. Too real if you ask me, almost as if...

Bzzzzzzt!

The shaking emanating from my right hand forced my eyes to open slowly.

Bzzzzz-

My thumb swiped across the screen as I rolled over and let out a silent yawn. The burning light from the cracked screen of my cheap smartphone pierced my eyes, like a beam of sunlight heightened to a scorching ray by a magnifying glass. 3:45am. With much reluctance, I threw off the old dirty sheets covering my body and rolled out of bed.

The chill from the morning air seemed to seep even into my bright orange parka, causing my body to let out a shiver. Still, I braved the cold and made my way to the kitchen, all while keeping a close eye on the ground to ensure I didn't kick over any empty beer bottles or Pabst Blue Ribbon cans. The shelf above the sink held my prize, a box of Pop Tarts, not exactly what you would call a filling snack but when you lived in my household it was the best you were going to get. Shooing off a family of rats that had made home on the shelf below, I reached for the box and pulled out a single sweet snack. Step one was complete, now for step two.

I was only waiting for five minutes when the sobbing started. Knocking softly on the door before opening it, I made my way into my sister's room. Karen's room. Sweet, innocent Karen who deserved only good in this messed up world we live in. She sat on her bed, trying her hardest to not make a sound while wiping away tears. Breaking the Pop Tart into two halves, I passed her one before sitting next to her, placing my arm around her silently. She rested her head against my chest, letting the tears flow. The dampness piercing through my parka didn't even bother me, what was more important was making sure she was ok.

We sat like this for a while, eventually she let go and took a bite of the food I acquired for her, being careful to stay as silent as possible.

"Did you want to talk about it?" my voice had a muffled effect from the warm clothing covering my body, which helped us remain quiet. She simply shook her head.

"Do you want me to sleep in here with you?" again, the small girl shook her head.

"I'll be alright. Thanks though," her sweet voice was reduced down to a whisper. She was wearing a brave face, but there was still a look of trauma in her eyes.

I wish there was more I could do. I really do. If there's one person in this world I want to see happy, who I want to see living her life, it's my sister. But as it is, this is all I can do for her. Be a shoulder to cry on, give her a sense of companionship in the chaos that is our lives.

"Alright," I stood up and took a bite from my half of the Pop Tart, "if you need me, come wake me up. Promise?"

Karen nodded as I walked towards her door. Clasping the handle, her sweet whisper filled my ears once again.

"Thanks Kenny. I'm sorry I'm not as brave as you…"

It was hard for me not to laugh at that statement. If I was brave, I would have the balls to take her away from here. Take her someplace safe, away from all the harm of the world. But I'm not brave. Those things don't matter. For her, I must feign courage, show her that if I can be strong, she can too.

"Karen," I turned and smiled at my sister, "you're one of the bravest people I know. Hang in there, ok?"

"Get off your lazy ass and get to work!"

"I told you, you bitch! I was fired yesterday! You try getting a job for once!"

No need to set an alarm in this house, my family had that covered for me. Not wanting to get up quite yet, I remained in bed and tried to drown out the noise with my pillow.

"What the hell did you get fired for this time?"

"Same shit as always. They were sick of my excuses for disappearing."

My family isn't exactly normal. And no, I'm not referring to the fact we're poor as fuck and can barely afford the roof we live under. I'm not even referring to the fact my parents barely feed us. I mean, why would they bother with food.

It's not like they can die.

I live with a family of Netherborns. Cursed from birth with limited immortality. And it fucking sucks ass. My parents don't give a shit about our wellbeing. But why bother? We were just going to wake up the next day like nothing happened. What they failed to realise was although physical scars heal, mental ones don't.

But there's an exception to those rules.

"Kenny, wake up. You can't be late today."

And the exception is me.

"Alright mum," I called back, throwing the sheets from my body and climbing out of bed.

I pulled the broken door off my closet. Inside laid a bag, the same one I've had my entire life. Holes were patched up to the best of my ability, and the right strap was attached to the rest of the bag by a few lines of thread.

Just like everything else in this house. Broken, torn apart, but somehow managing to hold together.

I shoved some stationary from the ground into the bag, along with a few adult magazines. It was going to be a long ride to my new school, and it wasn't like I could keep the fact I'm a huge pervert a secret for long.

My new school.

Those words drew my attention to an envelope lying neatly on the ground, the words 'Kenneth' scribed with some of the neatest handwriting I had ever seen. It looked so out of place among everything else.

I reached down and opened the already torn envelope, re-reading it once again.

Thank you for your application to Denver Middle School for Upcoming Heroes. Your application was a success. Attached below is the bio you provided:

Name: Kenneth 'Kenny' McCormick
Supernatural Powers: Limited immortality. Memory manipulation (subconsciously activated, unable to be trained)
Power Source: Netherborn heritage
Other Abilities: High pain tolerance. Strong initiative. Slight training in hand to hand combat.

Your participation in this school has been recorded and will be added to any documents for yourself and your immediate family. Please note: in the unlikely event of a failure, another member of your family must complete The Netherborn Pledge.

The Netherborn Pledge. The thing that has sent my entire life down this path. It's not that I'm not the heroic type, hell the profession almost seems perfect for my protective nature. Even if I wasn't born to this family, I still feel like I would want to become a hero. Sure, I don't mind the occasional practical joke, but for the most part I try to do good, protect those closest to me. I'm certainly not brave, but if it means I can help someone you can sure as hell bet I'll fake it until I make it.

Netherborns are regarded as 'evil' by nature. A stereotype, but one that does have some truth behind it. After all, if you were to die as often as someone in my family, you would become numb to the concept of death too, whether it be yourself or someone else.

To redirect the stereotype, each Netherborn family must provide one child to attend a hero school. There's no way Kevin could make it through a week there, let alone until graduation. And I'm not letting Karen be placed in any more danger then she already is in.

That leaves me. Stuck going to a school I shouldn't be attending. At least I wasn't going to be the only one from this messed up town going.

"That's bullshit fatass!"

"Read it and weep Kahl. I should be the one disappointed though, I've got to put up with you losers, you guys should feel honoured you get to-"

"Hey dude," a tall kid wearing a red poofball hat interrupted the bickering of the other boys waiting at the bus stop as I approached. Stan had been a friend of mine since kindergarten. Despite his nihilistic views of the world, he was your standard thirteen-year-old boy. Well, as standard as you could get in this fucked up town.

Stan, from what I could tell had been looking forward to this day. He had powers of his own, an affinity with power tools. From what I know it developed sometime in the second grade from a freak thunderstorm. He's been practicing his psychokinetic abilities with the objects for a while now, eager to put them to use to 'do good for the world'.

"Hey, what's Cartman doing here?" I mumbled through my parka. Eric, or Cartman as we all called him, has also been my… 'friend' since kindergarten. He kind of forced his way into our group back then, and although we've been trying to ditch him ever since, he's managed to somehow stick around. Cartman is the definition of a dick, but despite that our lives would not be the same without him. He's usually the centrepiece to most of our crazy antics, so at least he keeps excitement in our lives. We thought we were finally going to be rid of him, since the three of us had enrolled in a school that should've been close to impossible for Cartman to attend.

"I was accepted just like you guys! The changes they made are pretty bullshit if I do say so myself, they got everything wrong! I mean just look at it!" Cartman waved a piece of paper in my face, allowing me to grab it and start reading.

Thank you for your application to Denver Middle School for Upcoming Heroes. Your application was a success; however your bio has been edited slightly. Attached below is the bio you provided along with the updated copy:

Name: Eric Cartman
Supernatural Powers: Coon-like reflexes. Sharp claws that can draw blood.
Power Source: Coon DNA
Other Abilities: Being totally awesome. Also great at keeping his identity a secret. And way better at everything then Kyle.

Name: Eric Cartman
Supernatural Powers: n/a
Power Source: n/a
Other Abilities: Manipulation

I couldn't help but snicker. Written proof of what we had been telling the arrogant asshole for years.

He doesn't have powers.

Ever since Cartman and I found out about the abilities of our friends, he had pushed the fact he too has powers. Hell, he even went as far as to wear a tail around all last year, saying he was learning to subdue his Coon DNA. That's dedication. We all knew it was fake though, after all most people with abilities try to keep it undercover at least until they finish school.

I was surprised at his acceptance though, although it's not unheard of for powerless people to be accepted, it's certainly rare, especially someone of his… stature. I can see how they regarded his manipulation as an asset though, the fatass was incredibly skilled in that area and it certainly has helped him accomplish things he shouldn't normally be able to pull off.

"Shuddup Kinny! It's wrong and you know it!" the paper was snatched fiercely from my hand before I could read any more. It didn't matter anyway, I got the general gist.

"I've told you one thousand times, space raccoons don't exist," the final member of our group lectured. Kyle was by far the smartest of the four of us, and always the first one to take a jab at Cartman. It was almost as if he made it his life mission to keep the douche in check, but because of that he can come off rather bossy. Kyle and Stan knew each other before kindergarten and are by far the closest out of all of us, probably because it was the Marsh family that first helped Kyle's parents 'adjust' to life here.

Kyle isn't human. I found out that for myself in third grade, when Cartman and I witnessed the redhead and his best friend jump from a clubhouse the two of them had built, a kite growing from the boy's back carrying them both to safety. It looked like they weren't just playing around, but training. There was a lot of explaining that day from all of us.

"They do too! Besides, it's not like Kinny has real powers either," I had to mentally restrain myself from launching my fist into that chubby face of his to shut him up.

"Dude lay off. It would be hard dying all the time, but even harder if no one remembers it," Stan tried to calm Cartman down, but the fatass didn't take the hint.

"Yeah fucking right. Oh I'm a Netherborn so I can't die but only other Netherborns can remember my death," Cartman pitched his voice up to a mocking tone, making it even harder for me to restrain myself, "it's not like poor people can be heroes anyway."

Luckily, our conversation was halted by the screeching tires of the bus.

"Come on, let's just get on. It's a long ride to Denver," Stan lead the group onto the bus as we headed towards our first day in middle school.

No one really knows when superpowers were discovered. Some believe people with powers have been living among us for a long time, in the shadows hiding their secret. Others believe some freak occurrence caused them to be developed within the last hundred years or so. Regardless, although very few, the world we live in is inhabited by people like us. People with extraordinary abilities. Some use it to benefit society, others use it to benefit themselves. That's where the superhero industry comes into it. A whole new career, something that kids were once told was all a fantasy in their head is now something you can aspire to be. And we were going to live that dream.

AN: Thanks for reading the first chapter! I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it.

Have a lovely morning/afternoon/night, and I'll see you next time~