1st January 2023

One hour before.

His family and his friends called him Reggie. The suits and the corporate people called him Reginald.

The rest of the world? They called him A-Train.

Reggie had been given the title of "Fastest Man Alive"' in his youth by the media people after Mister Marathon's untimely death. Although, Reggie wasn't the fastest supe in terms of raw speed. John had him beat in that regard; at least when he was flying.

But reaction time? John may as well have been a bumbling moron. They'd sparred from time to time, and to put it simply: John could see things in slow motion, Reggie could see things in slow-er motion. John may have been two times faster, but by the time he'd made the mental decision to throw a straight jab, Reggie was already in the process of weaving through it and going for an eye gouge.

Not like poking John's eyes would do anything - his corneas could survive a direct hit from a hellfire missile - but Reggie was able to conceivably hold his own against the Homelander. Granted, he would be more of an annoyance than anything, but still.

So he could understand the visceral fear on the faces of the four men standing in front of him, gun barrels raised high and visibly shaking. Mere bank robbers, no powers at all. Dressed head to toe in black clothing, wearing kevlar vests, and wielding M4 Carbines. Their equipment would have been enough to give a D-lister hero some trouble, assuming the hero in question was holding back on some level.

But these criminals were robbing this bank in particular because it was in a small, rural town named Morgland. Heroes popped up a lot less frequently the further away you got from a major city, so Morgland was unlikely to receive backup from the FBSA unless a crazy supe-terrorist was running around. Which meant that the only opposition they'd faced so far were the woefully under equipped local authorities.

It was obvious they weren't expecting a hero to show up, let alone one from The Seven.

"Put the guns down, put your hands behind your head, and get on the ground." Reggie said in a deep, assertive voice. The one he'd secretly practised in the mirror ever since he got his powers. "You know exactly what's going to happen to you if you don't."

The hostages cheered and whooped in joy, rising from their hiding spots after realising their lives were no longer in danger.

"Fuck yeah!" One of them screamed.

"Can't stop the A-Train baby!" Another shouted

All four criminals looked at the hostages, then at each other, before wisely throwing their guns to the floor, putting their hands on their heads, and lying prone on the ground.

Reggie picked their weapons up and shattered them over his knee one by one, sending bullet casings and pieces of metal flying everywhere. They could probably sue him for "destruction of property" after they get out of prison in 25 years, but he wasn't completely sure. Reggie was never good with laws.

He used his super speed to check them for other weapons they may have hidden, then grabbed four zip ties from his suit's pocket and used them to secure their wrists.

The hostages continued cheering even as A-Train finished up, prompting him to turn around and smile at the small crowd of happy civilians.

"You're safe now," he called out, "I need everyone to make their way out of the building in a calm and orderly fashion."

The crowd buzzed with excitement, some of them hugged Reggie as they walked out, some shook his hand in gratitude. Others cried into his chest and splattered his blue suit with snot and tears, murmuring a plethora of incoherent thank you's.

But Reggie didn't mind, emotions were running high and they were expressing their gratitude. All in a day's work as far as he was concerned.

Reggie stepped outside, streams of policemen rushing past him and into the bank. He stood in silence as police officers went about securing hostages.

As he watched the organised chaos unfold, a rough-looking man with a Sheriff's badge on his tan uniform began to approach him. He was tall, taller than any man Reggie had ever seen. He was wide as well, and although the man obviously wasn't a bodybuilder, he wasn't fat either. He looked powerful, strong. The kind of man whose sheer size would make most people uneasy just by his sheer presence.

Reggie couldn't help but notice that the Sheriff's face looked... Normal. Non-threatening. In the movies a guy with his build would have big, bushy eyebrows, a scar on his right eye, and a perpetual mean mug that he would use to intimidate his enemies.

But the Sheriff's face looked weirdly unnatural, he was neither ugly nor handsome. If Reggie had to describe what average looked like, it would be... This.

That irked him in a way he couldn't exactly put his finger on. Years of instincts honed through combat against other superhumans were telling him that the Sheriff was dangerous, every inch of him oozing power. But at the same time, Reggie felt the urge to calm his nerves whenever the Sheriff smiled. As if that grin was specifically made to ensure that nobody registered the man as a threat.

Even weirder was the fact that Reggie couldn't make sense of his facial features at all. He could see a nose, a mouth, a pair of eyes, and some eyebrows... But he could feel his brain actively suppressing certain details about the Sheriff's mug.

"Good work you did there, A-Train." The Sheriff spoke up as he offered his hand.

"Huh?" Reggie said stupidly. "O-oh, yeah. Yeah! Uh, anytime!" He tried to recuperate and snap himself out of his stupor as he shook the Sheriff's hand.

The Sheriff spoke as Reggie tried to collect his thoughts. "So what brings you here? Usually heroes don't show up 'round these parts."

"I was on my way to New York. Supervillain attack, one of the biggest we've seen in the last decade." Reggie said grimly. "All of Times Square has been levelled and we can't even count the bodies."

If the Sheriff was surprised, he didn't show it. In fact, Reggie would've thought that the Sheriff may have actually been relieved.

"Well, I suppose you've got some real important stuff to do, eh?" He said with a friendly smile. "We've got the criminals handled, so you can leave."

Reggie raised his left eyebrow at that. Most people would usually express some sort of shock. But this guy didn't even bat an eye. It was almsot like Reggie just told him that the weather for the next few days was going to be sunny, and not the fact that the biggest city in America had been viciously attacked by a supervillain that could rival some of The Seven.

"You've got a lot of willpower." The Sheriff spoke up suddenly.

"Huh?"

"I said, you've got a lot of willpower. More than most." He chuckled. "That's to be expected, you're part of The Seven. You have to be strong-willed."

Reggie's confusion only heightened. What was he on about?

"Uh... Thanks?"

"You don't have enough of it, unfortunately."

"Wha-" he began to speak before he was cut off by a sudden jolt in his head. His eyes glazed over and his mind cleared. He felt calm, present. Everything around him was tranquil, he liked it. Ever since he became a hero, he hadn't been able to get much downtime. Always having to save people, clear debris in the aftermath of a cyclone, beat down the occasional supervillain here or there.

Why couldn't he just stay like this?

He saw the Sheriff speak, but he could barely hear him, his current state of mind dulling his senses. He could only parse a few words.

Morgland... Nothing... Here...

The feeling had vanished just as quickly as it came. Reggie blinked once, then twice.

What was he doing again?

"You said there was a supervillain attack in New York?" The Sheriff offered helpfully.

Reggie parsed through his memories, and made an "ooh" noise in realisation.

"Yeah, I'll get to that. Thanks for the reminder."

There was nothing else in this town for him. The criminals were gone, the day was saved, and now he had to move onto bigger things.

"Hey uh... Do you mind..." The Sheriff trailed off.

"Do I mind what?"

"Doyoumindgivingmeyourautograph?" The Sheriff said rapid-fire, a giddish smile on his 'face.'

Reggie blinked in surprise, then smiled. "Yeah, sure man."

The Sheriff held out a piece of paper, his attitude a complete 180 of the neutral man who Reggie talked to just a moment ago. Reggie wrote down his signature.

"My co-workers are going to be jealous, let me tell you!" The Sheriff said happily. Buzzing up and down like he couldn't contain his excitement.

Reggie let out a chuckle. He'd always felt better about himself whenever he signed an autograph.

"Now if you excuse me, I've got some supervillain butt to kick. Can't stop the A-Train baby!" Reggie screamed his catchphrase like the media people instructed him to and sped off through the town at mach 1, then 2. And once he was out of the town entirely, mach 9.

The Sheriff watched him go, then glanced at the small piece of paper with A-Train's signature on it.

"The guys are going to freak." He muttered.