Act 1: "The Unsung Hero"
Remnants of the orb: the Simurgh's Core scattered into little motes which I absorbed. It felt like grasping energy itself, pulsating with power. I left it be, aware it wouldn't do me any harm unlike the weird light that the Simurgh threw at me in her dying breath.
As I floated above the ruins of Canberra, a dome was being erected around the city, a clear sign that the government authorities had decided to quarantine the area. The devastation was evident, the aftermath of the Simurgh's rampage leaving its mark on the landscape.
I watched silently, a sense of satisfaction mingling with exhaustion and gloom. It was a complicated feeling that felt very new to me. The battle had been won, but at what cost? How many lives had been lost in the chaos? It was a sobering thought.
But for now, I couldn't dwell on the past. There would be time for reflection later. Right now, I had to focus on the present, on ensuring that no further harm came to the people of this world.
With a final glance at the city below, I turned away, the weight of my actions heavy on my shoulders. But as I soared into the night sky, leaving the ruins of Canberra behind, I knew that I had done what needed to be done.
The Simurgh was dead, and that was what all mattered.
My deeds may go unsung, but that was a small price to pay for the safety and security of humanity. And as long as there were threats like the Simurgh lurking in the shadows, I would be there to face them, to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. What I didn't know was that I'd come to regret this line of thought a few days from now.
It was my first time flying long distance by myself literally— thankfully, I managed to navigate just fine with the help of a few civilians, asking them which direction was America. It was roughly 28 hours later I finally found home.
I returned to Brockton Bay early morning, hid in an alley, and sneaked back into my house. I walked to the restroom and saw myself— I was in terrible shape since my fight with the Simurgh. Blood crusted on my forehead, a tear in my costume revealed a bruise spreading like ink beneath my skin, and my eyes were ringed with exhaustion. But gosh, I looked handsome: roughly around my 20s, with blonde hair, fair skin, and a slim but muscular build—the perfect ratio like Bruce Lee's.
I grinned despite my weariness. "Not bad," I murmured, tracing a finger over my jawline. The mirror reflected a hero, someone who had saved the world, even if it had come at a great personal cost.
With a sigh, I invoked, "Shazam," returning me to my original shape—a blonde geek who still had baby fat on his cheeks. I watched as the magic shimmered around me, my body shrinking and reshaping itself into the familiar form of a fifteen-year-old high school student. My costume vanished alongside my wounds like magic, but the weight of exhaustion settled even heavier on my now-slighter frame.
I didn't heal, my wounds were just hidden… but they should heal in time.
"Well, back to reality," I muttered, splashing water on my face. The coolness helped wake me up, and I took a moment to gather my thoughts. "Ugh… Right… School…" The world might not know what I had done, but it didn't matter. I did what I had to do. Yeah, it didn't matter... I still had to attend school, and then there was my mom.
Hopefully, Mom wouldn't yell too much at me when she returned home.
I looked back in the mirror. The reflection showed a fifteen-year-old kid who looked like he had been through a lot more than just another school day. My blonde hair was disheveled, sticking out at odd angles. The baby fat on my cheeks made me look younger than I felt, and my eyes, though blue and usually bright, were dull with exhaustion. I was still wearing the same clothes I had on when I was kidnapped by the wizard—an Eidolon merchandise hoodie, which was now frayed and stained, and a pair of pants that I swore were too red for the eyes. The bright crimson was almost painful to look at, a stark contrast to my current state.
With the Wisdom of Solomon whispering at the back of my mind, I realized how terrible my fashion sense was… Who was I kidding? In this state, I couldn't tap on Shazam's attributes, so I must say I might had enlightenment after the whole ordeal and I could now see how terrible my fashion sense was...
I sighed and turned away from the mirror, trudging to the kitchen. I glanced at the clock by the stove; it was 9 o'clock in the morning already. I groaned inwardly, knowing I was already late for school, but I couldn't bring myself to care too much. My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten in what felt like forever.
I opened the fridge and scanned the contents, my eyes landing on a half-eaten pizza from the night before (I think?). I grabbed it and devoured it cold, barely tasting the cheese and pepperoni. The hunger gnawed at me, but the food helped settle the rumbling in my stomach.
As I finished the last slice, I leaned against the counter, feeling the weight of the past few days bearing down on me. The fight with the Simurgh, the long flight home, and now the mundane reality of everyday life. It was a lot to process, and I knew I needed rest, but there was no time for that now.
With a deep breath, I pushed myself off the counter and headed to my room. I needed to change clothes and get ready for school. Maybe blending back into my normal routine would help me regain some sense of normalcy, even if just for a little while. But deep down, I knew that nothing would ever be the same again. The world had changed, and so had I.
Yes. It had been drastic. It felt forced. But what happened, happened.
I opened my PC and skimmed over the news. It had nothing about me or the death of the Simurgh… I sighed. And then I looked at the date. It was already April 15... "Am I seeing it clear?" It was indeed April 15! What the fuck!? I knew when the Simurgh isolated me, she had compressed time, or maybe she did the opposite of it?
Honestly, my memories of the fight were in a haze… But I knew the fight took a long time, her and me exchanging blows for hours that felt like days… Or maybe it was the opposite, that what I experienced were days that felt like hours… Now that I came to think of it, it made me question of the Simurgh's intentions.
The Wizard kidnapped me last February 24, and it was now April 15.
"Fuck… Mom must have been worried sick over me…"
The door was pushed open, and revealing from behind it was Mom.
Sheesh, what great timing!
"Mom, I can explain…"
But before I could utter a word more, Mom simply cried.
"Oh, Greg, i-is that you? Is it really you?"
Mom rushed to me and enveloped me in a hug. Her embrace was warm, familiar, and it brought a lump to my throat. I could feel her trembling against me, her sobs muffled in my shoulder. I hugged her back, feeling the weight of guilt and relief wash over me.
All of this felt too unreal to me.
"Yeah, Mom, it's me," I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'm here. I'm okay."
She pulled back just enough to cup my face in her hands, her eyes searching mine. "Where have you been? I… I thought I lost you," she said, her voice breaking. "The police, everyone… they said you were gone, that they couldn't find you. I didn't know what to do…"
"I'm sorry, Mom," I said, my voice choked with emotion. "I got… caught up in something. Something big. But I'm here now. I'm safe." I didn't know what to exactly tell her— what? If I told her I was kidnapped by a wizard, she'd either think of me crazy or do worse— panic.
Mom's eyes welled up with fresh tears, and she hugged me tighter. "I don't care what happened. I'm just glad you're back."
I held her close, feeling the enormity of the past month crashing down on me. The battle with the Simurgh, the flight home, and now this moment with my mom. It was almost too much to handle. But in her arms, I felt a flicker of hope.
My perception while engaging the SImurgh must have been distorted, or that the fight had been truly intense. After a while, she finally pulled away, wiping her eyes. "You look terrible," she said, a faint smile breaking through her tears.
I chuckled, a weak but genuine sound. "You should see the other guy."
Mom's smile widened, and she shook her head. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up. And then you're going to tell me everything. Everything, okay?"
"Okay," I nodded, feeling a sense of peace settle over me. For now, I was home. And that was enough.
As I cleaned up and changed into fresh clothes, I thought about what to tell her. How could I explain everything that had happened? The wizard, the Simurgh, the powers I now wielded… It was a lot to process, even for me. But I owed her the truth. She deserved that much.
Once I was cleaned up, we sat down at the kitchen table, a warm cup of tea in front of each of us. Mom looked at me, her eyes filled with concern and love. "Whenever you're ready," she said softly.
I took a deep breath and began. "It all started with a wizard…"
A few minutes later…
I thought it was the right move, but Mom instead thought I was crazy. Being too forthright did not help with my case either.
"So, you are telling me, a wizard kidnapped you by teleporting you into this strange mysterious forest, gave you powers, and sent you to Canberra, Australia to fight the Simurgh?"
"Yeah," I weakly answered, too aware of how crazy I sounded myself. "You know what, I take it back..."
Apparently, the Wisdom of Solomon didn't carry even just 0.00001% of it when I was transformed into my natural state. I knew I could train myself to achieve better attributes, something I planned to do after I got out of this mess.
"We are going to call the PRT, and have you checked up with a shrink…"
That was it.
Ultimately, I'd decided not to reveal my superpowers or anything. I resisted the thought of revealing myself, recalling the Simurgh's last move on me. She hurled a piercing light that I swore landed on me perfectly. I could not ascertain its effects, and that made me a ticking time bomb. Seeking the help of the government might be a wise move for the sake of the bigger picture, but I doubt if that was going to help my situation.
I had to think more about this, but I was uncomfortable at the thought of ruining my parents' lives.
"Where's Greg?" came running from the door was none other than Dad.
"I texted him the first chance I got." Mom helpfully provided as she mellowed down with her stare
Dad took me in a hug, and I felt like crying too with the atmosphere. Mom joined in the hug too. I just went with the flow. But… What was I supposed to do after this?
