Issue 1:
A Hero Arrives
It was a cloudy afternoon in Westside Charlotte, North Carolina. Rows of concrete shops and apartments came into view with crowds of people panicking and scurrying away or ducking cover in the warzone that was taking place in the streets. The police had blocked off every exit as the public and news vans were kept out. Swat teams were swarming in, guns and riot gear at the ready, while explosions from pipe bombs erupted on ground zero, followed by the sound of rapid gunfire from the smashed windows. Up inside the apartments, scruffy men dressed in black shirts with a convulsing sun and moon symbol fired in the swat team's direction, basically spraying bullets without careful aim, relying heavily on sheer luck while hitting the ground. The police returned fire at every opportunity., It was utter pandemonium.
Ducking behind a couple of abandoned cars was a young blonde woman in a bright blue dress suit. She got close to the action but remained safe while her cameraman captured every shot, looking as nerve-wrecked as his colleague.
Reporter: This is Sally May, reporter from Channel 5 news, here! It's day three, here, on Wilkinson Boulevard. The Eclipse Gang has completely taken over, and the police are currently pinned down by oncoming barrage to move in. Many of them are firing live from the apartment building, using the top floors as advantage points. We're not entirely sure, but it's highly likely that there's also a hostage situation as tenets are being held captive.
Cameraman: Dude, this is freakin insane! I did not sign up for this shit!
Sally May: Shh! Collin, Shut up! She placed a finger to her lips, silencing her colleague. From what we are seeing, whatever negotiations that were going on prior have been thrown out the window. Swat teams have not made any progress in breaching the Eclipse Gang's defenses. The police commissioner has made numerous attempts to contact the state administration, demanding that the governor activate the national guard. Unfortunately, his response was the same: "we cannot disrupt such a peaceful demonstration, and I must urge for the CPD to pull back at one." A car explodes a few feet from behind, Sally May, raddled, turns and nearly lost her composure. Combing her hair, she tried staying calm. As of right now, the police department is once again on its own, and so are we. I'm unsure how long we can hold out from this, and if this will ever end. All I can say is that, right now, we need a goddamn miracle.
(Meanwhile)
North of the city was the Truist Center, its glass walls glistening in the mid-day sun while the modernist concrete design emphasized its bold exterior. On the very top of the skyscraper stood a tall man scouring the city before him.
He was about 6-foot-tall and was dressed head to toe in gold and silver armor, holding a specific knight aesthetic to the design. It wasn't bulky but robust and sleek, the metallic surface moving fluidly against the wearer's body. On his helmet was a blue-glowing visor in the shape of a capital T. All over the shell were vein-like lines intricately connected, stopping at the circular shield with a capital V insignia embedded on his chest, glowing blue just like the lines and visor.
He gingerly moved forward, approaching closer to the end with one foot on the ledge. With little effort, he leaped off, descending face first from the 40-story drop.
The armored man: Thrusters! Engage!
On the compact matching pack attached to his back, small hatches opened at the bottom. Igniting out, blue flames rapidly spewed and despite its low consistency, it was enough to save the armored man from splattering on the pavement.
His elevated speed prevented him from breaking the sound barrier and shattering the glass of the surrounding buildings. He changed course and soured into the city, flying over the city's intersection as bystanders going about their day stopped to look up. Their attention turned immediately, having mixed expressions of shock and awe while pointing and talking to each other at such a phenomenon. The armored paid them little mind.
Placing a finger on the triangular antennae on his left temple, the man listened as voices echoed throughout the inside of his helmet, one of the voices belonging to Sally May's live broadcast.
The Armored Man: Did you hear that? That could be our first mission. How about we go over and see what this suit can really do, huh?
Unknown Voice: Are you such that's wise, Mr. Jeremy? Won't this little stunt draw some unwanted attention, especially the kind we've been hiding from?
Jeremy: Ark, I'm tired of hiding. I'm tired of laying low and doing nothing while the world slowly burns around me. It's time someone does something about it.
Arms thrusting forward, Jeremy turns to the right and rerouted his course, heading directly to Westside Charlotte.
(Back at Westside Charlotte)
Sally May and her cameraman, Colin, finally have had enough. They make a break for it, trying to get away from the barrage.
Sally May: Screw This! We are getting out of here. Winning a Peabody Award is not worth getting shot.
Colin: Dude, I am with you on that!
Sally May: Come on, I say an opening a few feet away. We can avoid getting hit by making a beeline. All we have to do is keep our heads down and carefully move as quickly as possible.
Colin: Um…I don't think that's the best strategy. Won't that…
Colin could not finish his sentence, having been hit in the back of the shoulder by a wayward bullet. The camera dropped to the asphalt as Sally May rushed in a panic to help him, getting caught in the hailstorm and fearing for their lives.
Sally May: Colin!
Colin: Oh, God. I'm fucking hit.
Immediately dragging her cameraman to cover, Sally May quickly treated his wound by tearing a piece of her sleeve and trying to stop the bleeding.
Sally May: Don't worry. It's going to be okay. Just stay with me, and we'll get out of here.
Colin: What…what the hell is that?
He pointed to the sky, Sally May following his direction.
At that moment, Jeremy arrived and arrived dead center of the whole ordeal. His very silhouette captured almost everyone's attention. Jeremy performed a complete backflip before boldly landing, kneeling while planting a fist into the pavement via the perfect superhero landing. He got up and straightened his composure with hands akimbo.
Sally May and Colin, the police, and the Eclipse gang all shared a flabbergasted expression, unsure what they were looking at.
Colin: You see it too?
Sally May: Oh, yeah, and I still don't believe it.
Jeremy looked over his shoulder as Colin weakly grabbed his camera, not wanting to waste capturing the sight. He waves his hand, addressing dramatically like a character in an action cartoon.
Jeremy: Fear not, citizens! The vanguard of the people is here to save the day!
Sally May snapped out of her stupor, glaring at the man in the suit as if he was crazy. Her head peered utterly out from behind the car barricade.
Sally May: A-are you crazy? I don't know what kind of gimmick you're pulling, but those psychos will kill you.
Jeremy: Is that so? that doesn't concern me. I know that everything's going to be alright. Why? Pointing a thumb to himself Because I am here!
Jeremy turned back, got into a sprint start, and charged straight into enemy lines, taking advantage of his enemy's confusion. However, for the Eclipse gang, the shock didn't last long, seizing the opportunity to resume firing. This time, most of the shots were aimed at the armored man.
He was unphased by the hailstorm of bullets striking his outer shell. Not one hit had an impact. Sally May and her cameraman captured every moment, still downright befuddled but didn't waste any opportunity—even the part where Jeremy overpowered the goons and put them in their place.
(Narration)
"Hi. Sorry to interrupt this story, but I bet you're wondering "Who is this cool guy in the medieval Iron Man-looking suit." Well, that guy is me. My name is Jeremy Lee, and this is my story of how I became the world's first superhero. Though, before we continue seeing myself thrown into the fray, perhaps I should explain how this all happened, if that's alright?"
(Flashback)
Sometime in the past. A teenage boy with black hair and brown eyes, having Asiatic features, sat on a flat bet, in a confined space, wearing only a black and blue bodysuit. In his hand was reading a comic book, Action Comics Issue 30 to be precise, finishing it up before putting it in a pile, on his left side. Other comics were present such as Blue Beetle, Iron Man, X-O Manowar, etc. Although the boy was smiling with nostalgia and excitement, it was short-lived as the reality of his situation resurfaced. Melancholy was setting in once more.
Narration: "You see that boy sitting in that prison cell. Yeah, that's me at the awkward age of fifteen. Reading the only thing that kept me sane throughout the whole ordeal. Comic books. Why am I in a prison cell, you asked? Well, it's not because of what I've done, but more like what I am."
Suddenly, the mechanical lock was activated, and the cell door flew open to the side. The fluorescent lights bled as a pair of shadowy figures sauntered in.
Shadowy Figure #1: Come along, Number 389. You're needed once more on the testing grounds.
Jeremy sighed, hesitantly turning.
Jeremy: Yes, sir.
Shadowy Figure #1: And don't worry. This won't be like last time. No. This time. The higher-ups have something special for you.
The young man slowly got up and faced his captors, his expression being slightly miffed. One of the figures fixed the rims of his glasses before gesturing forward, with no clear sign of empathy in his body language. The young Jeremy preparing to follow them out the metallic door.
(Narration)
"I have a special ability, and these government G-men see me as something useful. I don't want to get too into it, but my power has a lot to do with machines."
The two agents escort down a long corridor, passing along the sanitized linoleum flooring and the beige concrete walls. The young man ignored them, though. His focus was primarily on the noises all over. It wasn't coming from his caretakers but from the nearby cameras and electronic devices. Jeremy was listening intently as he moved along from the squeaks echoing on the soles of flat shoes to his own bare feet. It wasn't typical noises like buzzing and screeching. It almost sounded like talking, basically a conversation. All zeros and ones, though. Still, from the acknowledged look on his face, he could understand every last bit but kept it to himself.
(Narration)
"I'm what they call an esper. It's sort of like a psychic, but not that limited. I have the technopathic power to talk to machines. Though, it's not really talking but more like listening to a unique binary frequency emanating from digital machinery and being able to communicate with them. That included the dampeners that kept me from escaping (assholes). It's how I got locked up in this crazy facility. Once the rumor about the freak 10-year-old boy from Tennessee who can snap a car on and off with his fingers got around, he gets abducted and sent to some Area 51-esque nightmare."
His train of thought was interrupted. Jeremy and the two figures strutted out the double door. Entering a large area about twice the size of a football stadium, the young man was surprised. Floating before him, A strange apparatus towered over as Jeremy staggered closer. It resembled the front of some sort of ship from a science fiction movie, though its non-Euclidian texture made it difficult to tell. However, behind the apparatus were burn marks and tears that clashed with the gold and silver exterior, indicating that parts of it were missing.
The two agents, however, motioned to the right and stood next to other shadowy figures, their lab coats being all that was visible. All of them were at a safe distance, away from the splash zone. The young man was completely awestruck as the scientists hooked him up to the scanners and ordered him what to do. The two agents stared at their colleagues, crossing their arms and signaling their skepticism.
Scientist #1: Number 389. He greeted through a microphone. Please, proceed to the ship. When we give you the signal, you will contact the AI inside.
Jeremy: W-what is that thing?
Scientist #2: It's a ship. Is it not obvious to you?
Jeremy shot a passing glare, fists balling. However, after taking a deep breath, he let it slide and looked back at the ship.
Jeremy: I get that. I really do. What I mean is, where did it come from? What is it doing on Earth?
Scientist #1: That disclosure is not essential. What's important is that if you don't follow our directions, you won't get another issue for your stupid comic books. Is that understood?
Jeremy: Yes, sir. That's understood.
Although reluctant at first, Jeremy stuck out his hand and touched the rigid exterior of the ship. After making contact, the young man focused all of his attention. Jeremy applied all his concentration, sweat beading from his brow.
Agent #1: Are you sure this is going to work? He turns to the scientist. This is the eighth attempt in a week. The last seven espers we've used still haven't even awakened from their coma.
Scientist #3: Correction. Only six of them are still in a coma. He waves a finger, one hand still typing. The seventh suffered a mental breakdown and is in extensive care.
Agent #1: You know what I mean. At this point, we're doing the same stunts and expecting a different result—the very definition of insanity. I don't know how the higher-ups expect to keep this going when obviously, it's never going to work.
Suddenly, an eerie gasp escaped Jeremy's mouth. His body was ultimately still, almost like a statue. The only thing more out of the ordinary, the agent spotted, was the young man's pitch-black eyes.
Scientist #3: And for a moment, I thought you've finally developed a conscience. An insidious chuckle escaped his lisp before getting serious. Our job isn't to question the orders. It's to follow whatever the director says. If we do a good job, then get paid. No ifs, ands, or buts. He brushes a hand, dismissively. Besides, this is our last chance to unlock the universe's secrets. Who cares if a few espers die in the process? What's one more sacrificial lamb to the altar, right?
The agents stared in wait, and the scientists took notes. Nothing seemed to be happening. The Agents didn't like it, but the scientists were enthralled.
Scientist #1: Well, this is new. Thirty minutes have gone by, and the kid is still conscious. Usually, he hasn't collapsed or started bleeding from the nose in over thirty seconds.
Scientist #2: Do you think we've finally got it right? Do you think he's compatible?
Agent #2: The agent turns. What do you mean by compatible?
The scientist was examining the computer screens. Seeing the data being collected, the charts being printed from Jeremy's brain activity, and other kinds of feedback the machines were picking, everything seems to be stable. Nothing unusual.
Scientist #1: We haven't completely gotten the logistics down, but we hypothesized that the reason none of the other technopaths were successful was that they didn't possess the right components. Brainwaves, DNA, whatever the apparatus is looking into, it seems Number 389 is the one-and-a-million candidate we were looking for this whole time.
Scientist #3: That means we can proceed to the next phase of the experiment. She reached for the microphone. Number 389, remove your hand from the AI and move to the safe zone!
…and nothing happened.
(Inside Jeremy's mind)
Jeremy was floating in a vacuous space, darkness all around him. The only thing out of the ordinary was a floating blue eye.
Jeremy: What is this place? Where am I?
Ark: We are currently in the mindscape, Jeremy Lee, and you have piqued my interest.
Jeremy stared. A million questions popping up.
Jeremy: Who? What are you? How do you know my name? Why did you bring me here?
Ark: I am Ark, a sentient biotechnological artificial intelligence, and as for how I know your name, it's because I have been probing your mind since we made contact.
The eye scanned him from head to toe.
Jeremy: Well, that's not invasive at all. He murmurs, scratching his head.
Ark: I have brought you here because you are the first human to have ever formed a symbiotic bond with me. He shines a blue light, scanning. Many like you have tried, but none have succeeded. So, it has made me quite curious.
Jeremy: Many like me? You're talking about the other technopaths, right? I heard that they were in a coma, but this? What did you do to them?
Ark hovered from side to side, Jeremy trying to keep up.
Ark: A defense mechanism. I needed to find a compatible pilot with my systems for security reasons. As I said before, none of them had the right qualifications. Which, again, has piqued my interest in you. As such, bringing you here was the logical way to converse. He summons a large tablet with a myriad of colorful buttons. Come, let us play a game, shall we?
He presses one glowing button, another beeping.
Jeremy: What is this? Is this Simon or something?
He hits another button.
Ark: Close, but no. It is merely a stimulus test to analyze both your reflexes and mental capacity, a way for me to better understand our current situation before exiting. Till then, you are unable to leave unless I allow it.
Jeremy: Well, isn't that just great? I traded one prison for another. He huffs, sounding sardonic. This time, it's only with one jailer. I guess I'm never getting out.
Fortunately, that didn't curve his concentration. He never missed his beat, hitting each key that glowed simultaneously. His typing speed increased while his eyes followed. At the same time, while Ark was collecting, he noticed the young man's dejection.
Ark: You are mistaken. This is not a prison but a form of antechamber to evade prying eyes. Nonetheless, your real prison remains out there in the real world.
Jeremy's eyes widened, saddened as he was unable to deny that. There was nowhere else to go, he was still at the mercy of the very people who took him away from his family, and there was nothing he could do because the facility he was in was heavily fortified and well-guarded, the very same with the toilets to his frustration. He stopped the test and brought his hands to the side, fist clenching.
Jeremy: That's right. Even if I wake up, I'll just go back to that goddamn prison cell. So, what would be the goddamn point of all of this?
Ark: I am genuinely sorry. I am aware of your predicament. It is something I am all too familiar with. As I said before, I have peered into your mind and seen your memories.
Jeremy: And other than comic books, those memories are all I have left to keep me going, which isn't enough. Another day of playing by their rules and doing their tasks, the years flying by, feeling what little hope of getting out slowly fade away! Never to be free!
Jeremy had slammed his fists down with all his fury, the non-existing tablet's surface shattering. As much as it pains him to admit it, no matter how much he refused to accept, there was no hope in his stead. At that moment, Ark loomed over, his spherical form inching closer.
Ark: Do you want to be free? I can make that happen.
He left Jeremy completely dumbfounded.
Jeremy: I…what…I mean…
Ark: I can provide you the means to break free from your shackles. His voice echoed throughout the darkness, but he was nowhere in sight. As of right now, since we have bonded, you are my new pilot, and your word is my command. So, if I may ask again, is that what you want?
Jeremy: Briefly pausing. …Yes. I want to be free. I want to get out and get away from this hellhole.
Ark: Well, then. So be it.
And with that, everything faded to nothing.
(Back outside)
Hours had passed. Jeremy remained uncompliant as the staff continued observing, still waiting for some sort of response. Though, no matter how much they tried, there was no reaction. From calling him to poking him, the scientists remained patient. On the other hand, the agents' patience grew weary.
Scientist #3: That's strange. Number 389 is still not responding. His brainwaves and pulse are still active, though, which is something entirely new.
Scientist #2: Entirely new, my ass. Number 389's scans are off the charts. This isn't what we expected, but we might finally get to what we've been searching for with a few more tests.
Agent #1: More tests? He puts his foot down. Okay, that's it. I'm shutting this down. Somebody get the cattle prod ready.
The agent trotted over, but one of the scientists stopped him. Frantically, he grabs the agent's coat, wrinkling it, adding more to the agent's ire.
Scientist #2: What? You can't! This is the first time we have come so close!
Agent #1: And look what it's costing us. We've lost seven technopaths in half a week, and now this will make eight. All because that asshole of a director thinks this is the key he's been looking for. He swung his arms in emphasis.
Scientist #2: Don't you dare try to stop it. You know what the director is capable of. Do you know what he'll do to you? Do to us?
He pulled a gun out from his coat, aiming it at the agent. His finger pressed the trigger and was gearing to shoot. The other scientists were horrified while the agent stayed unimpressed.
Agent #1: Go ahead and shoot. I don't care. The director will have my entrails on a silver platter, anyways, but my point still stands. Project Pandora cannot afford to lose any more resources on this pet project of his, nor to a spineless wimp desperate for gratitude.
Scientist #2: Shouting indignantly. And we can't afford any more setbacks!
The agent scoffed. He proceeded over to the young man but pauses when the non-Euclidean apparatus began to morph and change. The entire metallic hall encased around Jeremy, convulsing and reformatting into an armored suit. His size and physique changed at about 6 feet in height, everyone around him dwarfing in comparison.
The agent steps back, shocked. For the first time, he felt genuine emotion, mostly because his training never addressed such a problem.
Agent #1: What the hell? He gasps. Number 389, remain where you are and do not try anything! Get out of that suit and come quietly before we resort to drastic measures!
He growled, steeling his nerves as he readied his Glock. The agent aimed, his companion preparing as well.
Scientist #1: Nervously barked. Quick! Shut the base down immediately and send help. We've got a Code 17. I repeat. We've got a Code 17.
Jeremy: Snapping out of his daze. Okay, this is by far the coolest thing to happen in my life. One moment, I'm floating in space while talking to some alien computer, in my head, and the next is this. He lifts his hands and flexes his fingers. I mean, I look like something straight out of freakin' comic book.
He admired his newfound appearance. Inside the helmet, there were blue holographic projections that either flash status reports, graphs, symbols, or a screen of the environment around him, capturing the 3D display perfectly to his bewildered gaze.
Ark: I figured you would be enthralled by the newly installed armaments I've given you. Having reconfigured myself into something that could provide protection, the armor will offer you the means for your escape. As for the aesthetic design change, it is technically from a comic book. After peering into your mind, I remodeled myself after the costumes of your favorite superhero characters. It was simple.
Jeremy: I think we might need to have a chat about boundaries, later, Ark. But, still, this is freakin' cool. Okay, so, now what?
Ark: Whatever your imagination permits, Mr. Jeremy. The suit acts according to how your body moves and how your mind wields it. However, I would suggest you act fast. Your captors appear disgruntled.
Unfortunately, he was right. Jeremy looked to the side, noticing one of the agents with his gun out. the man's mouth practically foamed as Jeremy became almost petrified with fear.
Agent #1: Step out of the suit and quietly stand down, Number 389! His temper growing. This is your final warning!
Jeremy: He hesitates. O-kay, but I…
Agent #1: Don't not make me repeat myself a third time!
Jeremy: Seriously. I-I would if I could, but I don't know how! He waves his arms, voice stuttering.
On accident, Jeremy swung his arm at one of the agents, hitting his chest and sending him flying. He lands ten feet away, groaning from the pain inflicted, but still alive, much to the young man's relief.
(Narration)
"I knew I should have seen that coming, but what I did? It was still unbelievable. I would also be lying if I didn't say that not another day went by when I haven't thought about opening up a proper can of whoop-ass on those men-in-black agents. Still, it was quite invigorating."
For a brief moment, the teenage boy was terrified of what he had done, looking at his gauntlets and processing what he had done. Nevertheless, it quickly subsided.
Jeremy: Holy shit! Did I really do that?
Agent #2: Oh, yeah, and have made the biggest mistake ever, Number 389. You know, we were trying to spare you from the same fate as the others, but putting you down now seems like a pretty safe option.
The other agent fired back. Jeremy was ready for him. All the fear instilled in him by Project Pandora immediately vanished. He cocked his arm back and slams it into the agent's face, blood trickling from his nose, enough strength to do little damage but enough to send him back.
Jeremy: He proclaims. My name is not Number 389! It's Jeremy Lee, and I don't answer to you! Not anymore!
The agent was thrown straight at the table and crashed into the lab equipment. Jeremy waited for the scientists' response, thinking they would run away, Unfortunately, he was wrong. The scientists immediately dashed, trying to restrain him, keeping him busy until the cavalry arrives, to fortunately no avail. Prior to that, one of the scientists had quickly reached for the comms, requesting backup. His cohorts already hitting the alarm button, pressing it as the entire room falls dark. Red lights flashed all around, followed by loud noises and the sound of reinforced steel doors closing all available exits.
Jeremy tossed and turned, trying to shake the scientists off of him. Despite their scrawny demeanor, they held on with quite the grip. Some of them attempted to pry the suit open, damaging their fingernails in the process.
(Narration)
"About what I said before about whooping ass, here's a little thing about me. As much as I want to do it, no matter what these guys have done to me. All the painful and humiliating tests. I held back. Kept my cool. There's no way in hell I will take another life. That's not who I am and that will never be me. Never."
Scientist #1: Don't let him get away!
Scientist #2: After everything we've done for you? After you've uncovered such a tremendous finding? Do you think we're going to let you have a modicum of a chance to escape?
Jeremy: Get off me! Now!
And he got his wish. Small vents on the pack on his back opened and activated. A burst of blue light erupted, and the armored teenager was now levitating a few feet off the ground. Jeremy flailed his arms while trying to maintain his equilibrium. Though, it was enough to knock the belligerent scientists to lose their grip on his person, falling back to the ground and groaning from the landing.
The suit stopped, and his composure was restored. That gave Jeremy enough time to come up with a plan.
Jeremy: To himself. Alright, they're off you. You've got yourself steadied. Now, it's time to say to those assholes 再见 and bust out of…woah!
His arms flailed, not having a good state of balance. Unfortunately, the suit flew him straight through the reinforced steel doors. His arms shielded his face as he braced for impact.
Jeremy: Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Oh, shit! He braced for impact.
The impact did zero damage to him. Jeremy pierced through like a bullet through a sheet of paper. He flew right through the halls as the alarm roared intensely. Dozens of facility guards fired rapidly and used whatever gadget and gizmo to bring him down, resulting in a complete failure. While dodging every shot and grapple, Jeremy maintained a careful aerodynamic direction and avoided a collision. Very lucky on his part.
The guards surrounded him, and Jeremy fought back, a myriad of kicks and punches played out. On his left hand, a blob of metal protruded and metamorphically transformed, a rectangular box with a small window materialized and glowed. He aimed, fired, and a beam of bright blue light projected from the barrel, everything turning white.
(Narration)
"It's not an exaggeration when I say I fought my way through a hundred men. It was even around the time I found out I had a built-in arsenal. The phasers were set on stun. Honest. For everything else that happened after that, a story for another time. Once I got out, and got as far away, I found myself…I'm going to have to say Blue Ridge Parkway? Anyways, I was out and that's what's important. Though, I still needed to find a place to lay low for a while, which I eventually did, thank God."
(Time Skip)
Jeremy made his way inside a dense forest, staggering through the woods. As the clouds grew dark and rain began to fall, the young man eventually found refuge in a cave. He simply sat on the cold stone floor and sighed, unsure of what to do next. It wasn't much, but what else was there, and despite not liking the rain, watching it gave him some comfort in his troubling times. The armor was now off, its form having transformed into a gold and silver watch, encompassing his lower arm. When the rain stopped, and the moon appeared, he stood up and stumbled out, admiring the celestial beauty. A new wave struck his heart as he smiles fondly, looking at the bulky watch-like device encompassing his lower left arm. It drastically grew and encased him, the suit donning back on his body as he prepares to soar off into the night sky.
(Narration)
"A cave of all places. It wasn't my first choice and certainly wasn't a cabin, but it was comfortable enough. However, comfort was the least of my worries. It gave me a moment to reflect, though, and think of what to do next. So many things I could do with Ark all at the palm of my hand. If it were those lunatics at Project Pandora, they would use this thing to take over the world, or worse. But not me. I wanted to do good with it. How did that old saying go? With great power comes great responsibility. That's when it hit me. I could use this newfound power to do good. To help people…
…And since the world needed heroes, and I was going to give it a superhero."
(Flashback ends)
(Three-years-later)
Jeremy charged straight into the warzone at Westside Charlotte. His target was the rundown apartment building as the gangsters tried to hold him off. He stops in a battle stance, fists raised.
Jeremy: Looking around. Alright, Ark. Give it to me straight. How many are we dealing with?
Ark: Other than the ten hostiles before you, scanners have picked up an additional thirty within the complex. He finished zooming, and scanning biosignatures. Half of them appear to be non-hostile.
Jeremy: Well, that makes it easy to sort out. Now, all we got to do is take care of these….
Gangster #1: He snarled and interrupted, having a Spanish-accent. I don't know what kind of Hollywood special effect ya used to pull that entrance, but if ya think we're goin' let some crazy bastardo in an expensive-looking cosplay getup ruin our little show, think again! he waved his hand, signaling his crew.
The ten Eclipse gangsters outside have their full attention on him and open fire. The bullets bounce off, some ricochet and non-fatally hit back on the gangsters' shoulders and legs. Blood trickled from their wounds as they yelped in pain.
Gangster #1: Waving frantically. Stop firing, ya idiots! It ain't workin'!
Gangster #2: Yo, what tha hell is this guy?
Gangster #1: Don't know. Don't Care. We gotta take him down, but we better do it the old-fashioned way. We goin' in knuckleballin'.
With the stamina of madmen, the gangsters dashed, screaming erratically. All of them proceeded to bum rush Jeremy, knuckles dragging against the alloyed shell of the suit and trying to take Jeremy down. Some of the gangsters resorted to using their rifles like clubs, only to be terrified when the plastic and metal shattered on impact.
The young man returned the favor, landing his fists on some of the gangsters. The rest, he smacks and elbows away, sending them flying five feet away onto the pavement. The inertia wasn't enough to do any critical damage but enough to knock them out.
(Narration)
"I expected as much that these goons wouldn't go down with a simple scare. Typical bad guy mentality. Always wanting to flex their stuff and act tough. This missions should be simple. Go in, take out the bad guys, free the hostages, save the day; it's never that easy, even in comics. Fortunately, I'm much more prepared than I was before."
(Flashback)
Jeremy was wandering the woods. He stopped and looked at a few trees, cocked his arm back, and knocked a few before picking up and breaking them into lumber. It was all a part of his training, necessary materials needed in order to handle his fire power. After stacking the logs, he summoned his power suit before moving on to target practice. Out of his gauntlets were guns, a minigun on his left and a phaser on his right. He aimed and fired carefully, shooting circular bullets and light beams that properly hit the mark. Each log nearly blew up like fireworks on Independence Day. He stared at the smoldering remains, and then at the nozzles of his weapons.
(Narration)
"Adjusting the suits' strength levels and weapon faculties was a little bit easier than I originally thought. Ark did say it all depended on my imagination, so that means whatever I think about will happen. If I think about going all out, then I go all out. Though, my first experience did tell me I needed to do some tweaking (that is, making sure I don't blow someone's head off). As for wondering if I'm afraid I might lose it and cause harm, don't worry. Ark's my deterrent."
Afterward, Jeremy flew into the sky, soaring high in the stratosphere while staggering a little. The turbulence did not make it easy on him, but he managed to regain his footing. A plane soared by as the armored teenager hovered beside, giving a little wave as a boy watched gobsmacked.
(Narration)
"As for flying, that was much harder. I remembered someone once said flying is like purposely peeing your pants that's not true. It's more like jumping off a cliff and convincing yourself you're not falling. Either way, it was one hell of an experience. The adrenaline, the weightlessness, it made me feel alive.
In my opinion, my training was complete. I was ready to tackle this kind of situation. Whatever they threw at me, I could take them without fail. However, since I'm dealing with hostages, it's better to apply some finesse and hopefully not inadvertently destroy the whole building at its foundation."
(Flashback Ends)
Once the dust cleared up and everything was brought into view, Jeremy was all that was left standing. Every one of the gangsters present was on the floor, groaning and wailing in pain while licking their wounds. The armored teenager marched up the doors and slammed his fist through with tremendous force before tearing it off its henges. As he removed the door and tossed the wood to the side, he headed inside and got ready for whatever awaited him.
Two gangsters appeared at the end of the hallway. Before holding up their rifles and spraying bullets, Jeremy quickly made the first shot. Summoning his phaser gun, he fired a blue beam, energy low enough to stun the gangsters simply. Once the two were out like a light, the young man pressed onward. As he moves to the second floor, Jeremy heard whimpering, along with a grown man's violent yelling, telling someone to shut up. It was coming from the fourth door, on the right. Letting out his fury, Jeremy broke down the door and sees and mother and child huddling together in their tacky living room.
With lightning speed, Jeremy rushed over and caught the gangster by surprise. He grabbed the gangster by the shirt collar, lifting him off the floorboards, feet dangling haphazardly.
Fat Gangster: What the fuck!?
The gangster was at a loss for words, struggling to get loose.
Jeremy: Language, man. Didn't your mother ever teach you not to swear when children are present?
Fat Gangster: Like I fuckin' care. Eat lead, freak!
The gangster fired his Glock, and the bullets bounced off per usual. The young man pried the gun out of his hand, crushing it into pieces. With one pivoting toss, the gangster was slammed unconscious against the wall. The mother cradled her son, scared for their lives as Jeremy knelt down and talked softly.
Jeremy: Hey, it's okay. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to help. Don't worry. Everything's going to be okay.
The boy: Pointing. Look out!
Latino Gangster: Coming from behind and driving the dagger.
Right when the gangster plunged his dagger into Jeremy's back, the blade instantly shattered. Looking at the broken blade, the gangster lost all expression.
Jeremy: Standing up. Really?
Towering over the gangster, Jeremy delivered a fitting blow and sent his target flying right out the door. Enough force for the crook's whole body to slam into a loose-fitting wall, debris, and asbestos sprinkling over him. Jeremy exited the room and headed down the hallway.
The armored man found himself straight into the waiting room. Eagerly greeting were the rest of the Eclipse gang, not even hesitating to fire on sight. A full-on barraged erupted as Jeremy didn't feel much from the blowback.
Jeremy: Oh, great. It looks like we got ourselves the whole welcoming party. He held his arms up, shielding himself. This just makes cleaning up this mess a lot easier, Ark. Any suggestions?
Ark: As a matter of fact, sir, I do have one. Instead of charging straight into them like a freight train and starting another tedious brawl, wouldn't it be more time-saving just to use the available weapons in your arsenal? We have them clearly in our sights.
With his arms out, Jeremy summoned his weapons.
Jeremy: You know what, Ark? That's not a pretty bad idea. Let's show these degenerates what kind of power this suit is really packing.
Activating the minigun and phaser on each gauntlet, Jeremy fired at the gangsters, a stun beam firing on the right while a series of metal pellets fired on the left. Without doing too much damage, the density of the metal was low, having the typical force as a BB gun pellet. Though, still pertaining enough speed to push his target back. One by one, the gangsters were out like a lightbulb. Each one knocked out cold with accurate precision. Retracting his guns instantly, the armored man looked around and saw that his work was done, or so he assumed.
Unbeknownst to the armored man, one of the gangsters took the other, the two stepped back, and retreated to a secluded part of the apartment floor. The battle was lost as the redheaded one peered behind a corner. The short one, however, shook and cowered, failing to process all that was happening.
Short Gangster: This is not happening, dude! When I joined the Eclipse gang, nowhere did it say anything about fighting a robot!
Redheaded Gangster: He whispered, almost snapping. Will you shut up and let me think? He sighs. Okay, you go and call the boss. Tell him this whole operation is a lost cause.
The short gangster protested, trembling.
Shot Gangster: Me? Tell the boss? Are you insane? You know he'll have our heads if we tell him we failed, right?
Redheaded Gangster: Would you rather stay and fight whatever the hell is out there? No? Then get on the phone and tell that glorified loon what's going down here1 Now! I'll cover you. It won't do much, but it'll buy us some time.
The redhead peered around the corner, his pistol cocked and held at his side. His partner kept watch, and as much as he wanted to argue, the short gangster complied, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a burner phone.
The phone rang, meandering on the other side. With the gunshots behind him, it didn't ease his nerves one bit. He prattled back and forth in the beige hallway with sweat beating from his forehead.
Short Gangster: He fidgeted. Come on! Come on! He smiled, someone finally picking up. Boss. It's me. We got trouble, and no, it's not the cops. Some freak in a suit is taking out the whole crew, and I don't know how long we can….
Before the short gangster further filled his boss with all the details, his colleague was thrown overhead.
Redhead Gangster: He gasps while hitting the wall, his friend ducking.
Short Gangster: Oh, God! Please, help me!
Jeremy: Yeah, I doubt God's going to answer to scum, let alone help scum.
Standing behind, Jeremy restrained him. He then picked the gangster up and brought him close to his helmet.
Short Gangster: P-please! Don't hurt me. He struggles.
Jeremy: Don't worry, I won't. Yet. All I want from you is answers. And don't lie to me. You've seen what I've done to your friends, and my patience is wearing thin. His grip gingerly tightened around his collar. Do you Understand?
Short Gangster: Violently nodding.
Jeremy: Good. Now, tell me everything you know about your boss, and what is he planning.
(Hours later)
Sally May: We're here at the aftermath where an astonishing site took place. Moments ago, as if something straight out of a movie, a man in a robot suit flew from the sky and landed right in the heart of Wilkinson, Westside Charlotte, calling himself, "Vanguard."
She signaled her hand, Colin motioning to her side. The camera zoomed in, and the police were in view. The swat team marched into the apartment complex, rounding up the Eclipse gang members and dragging them out to be arrested.
Sally May: Continuing. In no short time, Vanguard had charged straight into enemy territory and successfully incapacitated the Charlotte Chapter of the Eclipse Gang. Fortunately, there were zero casualties and only a minimum of property damage, primarily attributed to the gang themselves. Paramedics are already on the scene as those injured are being treated right away. The camera turned back to Sally, refocusing on her serious demeanor. We also have coverage of eye witness accounts from the tenets, giving their stories of what occurred during the whole ordeal.
In an instant shift, Colin played the recording. The tenets sat in their apartments and gave their thoughts, staring at Sally May sincerely. A mixed look of surprise, fear, and excitement were etched on their faces.
Interviewee #1: First was an old man. I once spent three tours fighting in Korea, holding up in the trenches in Yeoncheon. The way those bastards kept us prisoner, it was just as grueling. He grumbled, rubbing his black eye. Back in my prime, I would have kicked those punks to the curb, but now, they would barge into my apartment, steal whatever money I had, and take one good swing at an old man to look tough. When I peeked out my door to see what all the commotion was about and saw that guy coming up the fourth floor in a suit of armor, I was thinking: "Great, some lunatic trying to play hero is going to get himself killed. Can this week get any worse?" That changed when I saw him shoot those gangsters without missing a shot. Good lord, he really knew how to teach those SOBs a good lesson, I tell you what. He held up his walking stick up, mimicking a gun at the end.
Interviewee #2: Second was an attractive young woman. We've been stuck in that apartment for days. There was no way to move around unless those Eclipse Gang creeps allowed it, but it wasn't free. None of them would let me use the bathroom until I gave them…something in return. She held back her tears, voice starting to crack. Oh, God. Making me get on my knees, I didn't know how long I would last. Honestly, I was never a believer. Hell, being held captive, it was the first time I've ever prayed to God in my life. She wiped her tears and smiled. And then he shows up. This wasn't a man, but an angel sent by God to come to our rescue.
Interviewee #3: Third was the mother and son from before. It was awesome! He showed up and tossed two guys out of our home like it was nothing! Even when they fired a gun on him, he just shrugged it off! We just got saved by a real-life superhero, how cool is that!? The mother chimed in her, her excited son quieting. Usually, I would say my son has an overactive imagination, but seeing is believing, I guess. Still, I just want to say that wherever this Vanguard is, we just want to say thank you. That's all.
Sally May ended the interview, switching it to another recording and recapping the whole scene.
Sally May: For the skeptics still unconvinced, what I'm about to show you is live footage of the very individual in.
Vanguard: As Sally said, the armored hero hopped out of a window on the fifth floor. Before hitting the ground, he made his exit, flying away, astounding the crowd below him.
The video ends with Sally staring at the camera, her face more determined with the mic held tightly, before giving her sign-off statement. A statement riddled with both praise and reasonable suspicion.
Sally May: Continuing. As you can see from this clip, the Vanguard is shown hopping out of the highest window and flying away straight into the air. We're unsure how he's doing it, but that's beside the point. The real questions we must ask are these: Who is this Vanguard? Why was he here? Was he really here to help us? Was this display of heroism a means to gain the public's trust? If so, then what does he gain in all of this?
(Meanwhile)
Out of Charlotte, Jeremy had flown to Johnson City, Tennessee. It didn't take him too long, about twenty minutes, to say the least. He landed in the outskirts, in a dense forest and away from prying eyes. From the radio, he finished listening to Sally May's broadcast and was a tad miffed.
Vanguard: Endgame? That's kind of rude. Does saving people's lives mean I have some ulterior motive to gain?
Ark: Not really, sir. From much of what I learn you humans, most of you who try to gain publicity, wouldn't risk your own lives by getting shot and lacerated. Even so, this has been a very fruitful day for you and I, after all.
Quickly, the body suit began to reconfigure and shrink, transforming into a gauntlet-sized watch on Jeremy's arm. He stood out and admired the wilderness, taking in the first breath of fresh air in the last couple of hours.
Jeremy greatly contrasted the suit in size, the young man standing at about 5'6 in height. He wasn't as robust as his suit portrayed, but he did possess the athletic physique of a track runner while his black hair was long at neck length. he was dressed in casual clothes, wearing a black T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers.
Jeremy: You mean the fact that not only did we save a lot of people and took down, but we both just prevented one of the biggest drug routes from taking route in Appalachia, along with finding out who is behind that mess. Still, what kind of name is "The Equinox King," anyways? I get the Eclipse gang, but that's kind of on the nose if you ask me.
Ark: I'm pretty sure being called Vanguard is a bit more pretentious than that, sir.
Jeremy: Slightly miffed. Hey, that reporter just took what I said and rolled with it. It's not like I could have given her my real name and blown our cover. His ire quickly subsided, flashing an amusing grin. Besides, I kind of like the name. It's very gallant and enduring and the perfect superhero name. I need to have one that inspires people and makes them feel safe, you know? The name's universal, especially when we're off traveling around the world.
Ark: Speaking of blowing our cover, sir, if you're going to pay your home city a visit, isn't there something you forgot to do? He pointed out.
Jeremy: Oh, yeah. The glasses you designed for me.
Jeremy reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of thick-rimmed glasses, donning them as his entire appearance changed on an epidermal level, his slim face becoming a little rounded while appearing slightly average and indistinguishable.
Jeremy: These things are really quite effective when being unrecognizable in public. He adjusted the frames. Now, come on, Ark. We need to get going. There's someone I'm looking forward to seeing, and I don't want to keep her waiting too long.
(Narration)
"So, yeah, that's how my story began. An epic tale ripe with adventure, suspense, tragedy, and perseverance. Instead of living a normal life. A tale where a seemingly normal boy gets taken by a shady government organization, becomes bonded to an alien ship that transformed into power armor, saves a couple of lives from a group of gangsters and drug dealers, and might even potentially fight a supervillain in the future. Usually, crazy stuff like that never happens in real life, but if destiny is a real thing, then I guess I got firsthand experience. What else can she throw at me, huh?"
(Three years ago.)
The Project Pandora facility was nothing more than a complete wreck, with debris scattered everywhere. In the aftermath of Vanguard's escape, all faculty, staff, security, and scientists were stationed outside. Their injuries were treated by onboard medics while also putting out the literal and figurative fires. Rolling up to the front was a black, unmarked limo, and a man step out forebodingly.
The man was a tall, intimidating African American man in his sixties. His eyes were brown, and ultimately soulless, along with short curly hair graying from old age. The same for his goatee. He wore a dark-blue four-piece suit seemingly tailored with the finest stitching and had a texture made from Egyptian cotton. In his hand was a cane, though with the gun chamber on the handle, not all is what it seemed.
Agents and scientists walked over and greeted him sycophantically. The man in the suit moseyed over to the wreckage, staring at the travesty. The man pulled out a flask and took a swig, which made the others more unnerved than ever imagined.
Agent #1: Welcome back, Director Pentecost. I, um, hope the trip from Indonesia wasn't too rocky for you.
Pentecost: He glared. Save your brownnosing to yourself, agent. I'm not in any mood for bullshit. Sliding the flask back, he slams his cane down demandingly. Just give it to me straight. How much have we lost in this incident?
One of the scientists took out a tablet and scanned the screen thoroughly.
Scientist #1: Well, sir, as we've stated in our report, a majority of the facility is compromised, the staff is injured, saved a few who are still missing, and as for the espers that were contained, all of them have escaped, and we're still trying to round up the ones who haven't gotten too far. As for data and DNA samples, we could only recover 60% before the facility's self-destruction.
Pentecost: Just answer me one question: Who the fuck is responsible for all of this?
With his cane lifted up, he pointed at each staff member. No one was brave enough, or stupid enough, to answer, except one. Raising his hand, the scientist shrunk in Pentecost's presence, nervously adjusting his glasses.
Scientist #1: He began to stutter. I-if you m-mean who's responsible for destroying the -base, that'll be Number 389. Somehow, the apparatus that was brought in f-fused with him and b-became some sort of power suit, which we w-were unable to contain. However, i-if you m-mean who's responsible f-for operating i-in your stead, that would b-be me, sir…
It was at that moment the sound of a gun went off, and the scientist dropped dead to the cold ground. The whole vicinity fell silent as all the agents and scientists were fearful. Pentecost, however, was expressionless. He still had his cane lifted up, aiming it at the dead man with smoke coming out of his cane.
Pentecost: Clean this fucking mess up and get everything ready before extraction. We're moving operations to somewhere more secure. As the staff fluttered about, complying, his eyes scanned the screen on the tablet, holding it firmly. After that, I want you to give me every document and biometric data that's still available. Bring me everything you have on Number 389!
To Be Continued
A/N: Hey, everyone. This is Kman134. I'm here to bring you the screenplay for a superhero story called Vanguard. It's the first installment for my potential superhero universe, "Astonishment Chronicles," and it's both a retooling of my last screenplay, "Praetorian," and a true homage to all the superhero stories I grew up surrounded by as a kid. I always contemplated the idea of how a cynical world would react to the presence of a real-life superhero. Would they Fear him? Hate him? Praise him? Love him? Who knows? But given the kind of world we're living in, right now, with two-tier justice systems, corporate and bureaucratic corruption, and media biases, I would say that, although it would be hard for people to trust or believe, an actual superhero coming in and saving the day is what we need right now. As for Vanguard, I'm trying to make him more like a paragon than my last one, still rocking a power suit but wanting him to have the charms of golden age and silver age superheroes. That is, someone who is powerful but still humble enough not to lord over his powers while selflessly still doing the right thing with them, i.e. similar to Superman. On Vanguard's arrival, he greets everyone the same way All-Might addressed the world when he first shows up. At the same time, however, Vanguard is a man haunted by his past and sees being a superhero as a coping mechanism to deal with it. There are also references to X-Men, Invincible, and Spider-Man in the screenplay, mostly through narration to provide insight into Jeremy Lee's character and debut. As for the aftermath and end, I'm planning on setting up a scenario where Vanguard will not only fight his first supervillain, but he will also get a chance to confront the demons of his past via Project Pandora. Also, in the next issue, I'm about to introduce Jeremy's friend and love interest, Alisha Johnson, who is one of the few people in the world keeping him safe and grounded, along with reminding him that life isn't like a comic book (not always, though). Anyways, I hope you like this and tell me what you all think.