Chapter One: Ka-Klak
The sky of Star City was drenched in a suffocating black, no stars visible from the ground. The city was still very much alive, but those who still walked along the streets at that hour were extra cautious, weary of the recent uptick in crime.
One particular warehouse was active, and the loud clank of machinery was emanating from it. All the lights were on, and they shone from the large windows in all directions, standing out from the string of warehouses near it. On the top of the building stood a figure sporting an almost entirely yellow suit, broken up by the red belt and bright red boots, and matching goggles. The logo on his chest was that of a lightbulb, the symbol he had chosen for himself. His name was Bright-Side, and this was his first outing as a hero.
He had no powers to speak of, but he was a black belt in karate. He taught himself various other martial arts (or at least tried) and combined them all into one to form his own particular crime-fighting style. The name, well, it was a catchy name, and it had yet to be trademarked so he took it for himself.
As he sat perched upon the rooftop, his heart started racing and he began to sweat heavily. He had never before taken down any criminals, let alone a group as large as this one. After a few deep breaths, he composed himself. He knew doing something like this would help get him a spot on the league, they were looking for more members after all. Obviously, they didn't encourage new up-and-comers (especially ones without powers) going out and almost getting themselves killed, but Bright-Side stubbornly stuck to the idea that stopping this crime would give him that bit of experience he needed to ace the tryouts.
After contemplating for some time, he crawled down off the roof and gently opened one of the wide windows, sliding in undetected. The ground of the factory was littered with a group of armed thugs, who were patrolling the place while their unarmed counterparts were working to manufacture the new strain of drug the streets were craving.
Bright-Side knew someone would eventually spot him sitting up there, so he quickly thought of a plan. His eyes were drawn to the series of light switches on the other side of the room. He carefully shuffled along a grove the wall, praying someone wouldn't decide to randomly look up. A small stump briefly obstructed the groove he walked along, and for a brief moment he almost tripped, but caught himself, still trying to make as little noise as possible.
Eventually, he reached the other side and slipped down, which resulted in a noise that attracted the attention of every goon near him. He quickly reached for the light switches, and using his arm he turned them all off at once, then he dropped to the ground to avoid the gunfire in his direction. The entire building was now pitch black, except for the flashes of flame from the barrel of the guns
The wannabe hero slipped on his goggles, which were of the night-vision variety, and drew out his extendable baton, modified to make knocking out evil easier. The thugs had no time to group together before the lights went out, so they were yelling at each other and trying to find everyone.
Bright-side crept silently behind a goon scrambling for his comrades with his arms outstretched and smacked him behind the head (non-lethally, of course) with his trusty blunt weapon. He did the same, creeping around to every goon methodically and knocking them out until there was only one left.
The last one was in the dead center, his shotgun pointed straight forwards at the blackness. Bright-side was preparing to silently discombobulate the enemy when he heard a hum followed by a series of clicks. All of the lights in the warehouse sprang to life, and the last goon spotted him. He smiled, uttered an expletive, and prepared to shoot the fledgling hero.
With nowhere to run, Bright-side sank to the ground and picked up the gun of the last gang member he took out and shot the last thug from a distance, who soon sank to the ground. Bright-side soon came to his senses and started panicking, thinking he had killed the thug. Not only had he killed a man, but the act of killing someone meant he'd never get a spot in the league.
He ran up to the fallen thug and uttered a sigh of relief, the bullet had only grazed the last goon, and he was still very much alive. After that, the only thing left was to find out why the lights had come back on. He looked back at the switches and his eyes fell onto a curious sight. Near the switches lied a small green box wrapped in a red bow. He shuffled over and picked it up, assuming it was left for him.
"Maybe I've been followed by one of the League, and this is a gift for all my hard work!" he said to himself, tugging at the wide ribbon as another thought crossed his mind. If it is one of them, why did they turn on the lights? Surely, they'd have known I could've almost been killed!
He plunged those thoughts from his mind, trying not to spoil his victory as he unraveled the last of the ribbon. He opened the box, and was puzzled at what was inside. Inside lied a small white sheet of paper with the word BLAM! printed in bold.
As he was trying to make sense of it, he heard a gun cock behind his head.
"No plea-!"
The loud shot passed clean through his head, blood sputtering out. His lifeless body sank to the ground, his bright yellow costume now drenched in red. The killer peered down at the body and admired his work. He wore a black trench coat with a matching black shirt and pants underneath. He also had a plain faceless black mask, with two white circles in a bullseye pattern on the front.
"BLAM!" he said to himself, still psychotically admiring his work. He looked at his gun and emptied it, watching the bullet casing fall to the ground. It met the concrete floor with a Ka-Klak sound, and spun around before resting at an odd angle.
"Ka-Klak" he retorted as he turned around to walk out of the building. However, his path to the open exit doors was blocked by a man he'd never seen before. He wore a black body suit with purple ankle armor and a purple belt that matched his helmet, which resembled a futuristic version of a medieval knight headpiece, only with the bottom half of his face exposed. He also had gold-colored gauntlets and shoulder pads, with a white cape that tied the costume together. He stood there, grinning at the killer.
"Onomatopoeia, I presume?" he said, but before he could get anything else out Onomatopoeia shot at him, figuring this was an ally of the "hero" he put to rest.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!" he said, repeating the sound of the gun as he barraged the mysterious man with gunfire. The armor-clad man was caught off guard, but he maneuvered in such a way that none of the bullets touched him. Onomatopoeia dropped his gun and unsheathed a massive knife, prepared to ensure this one didn't get away. He lunged and slashed at the figure, and managed to strike him in a few places, tearing a part of his body suit. The "hero" didn't take kind to this and landed a punch that caused the black-clad villain to fall to the floor.
"Perhaps I should have started with the fact I'm not a hero of any sort." the main said dusting off his shoulder pads. "The name's Prometheus, and I want to recruit you for something."
Onomatopoeia heard him and sat up intrigued. Prometheus sensed he was somewhat interested and continued.
"You see, I'm tired of nobody knowing my name. Let's face it, I'm no Joker or Lex Luthor, even though, you know, I took on a bunch of the big guys at one point. You've certainly had your fair share of accomplishments, but let's face it, we're in the same boat. However, I aim to change that, with this."
He withdrew a file from a pocket in his cape and handed it to Onomatopoeia, who curiously cracked it open and flipped through it, making a "flip" sound every time he turned the page.
"Originally, I wanted to take down just one of the big ones, like Batman maybe, but that's aiming too small. I know you only really like the ones with no powers, but I think you'd want to be in this" He waited until Onomatopoeia finished and closed the file with an energetic "thump". Even through the blank mask and unclear body language Prometheus could tell he wanted a part in it. Prometheus let out a massive grin.
"That's right, we're gonna kill the entire goddamned Justice League!"