Yeah, this is for April Fool's! For the record, this is purely a joke, please don't take this seriously! Hope everyone likes it, because I put a… shocking amount of effort into this. Also don't worry, The Shadow of Solace is being worked on, the delay is just some writer's block. Enjoy!
-Joost

Pepsiman
April Fool's Day Special: Salvation Comes In A Can

The morning sun beat down on the asphalt street just as it had any other day. The early birds were flying about, visiting their nests with their newly caught worms, ready to feed their newborn chicks. With the winter finally over, an extra six weeks added because of some rodent seeing his shadow, springtime was in full effect.

This town in particular had an impressive track record for mediocrity. Nothing really of note happened here, at least not in recent years. There was hardly any crime, any disaster, any controversy, none of the stuff that brought any hustle or bustle. Not that it was a problem, but many found it boring. However, no one in this town knew that today would bring some big, big changes.

"Isn't it Tuesday?" An office worker thought to himself after he heard the roar of a delivery truck pass by the window of his office. Normally they only came on the second Monday of every month to resupply the stores. They shouldn't be here for almost two weeks. "Hm, strange. Must be a special day or whatever…"

Indeed it was. Nobody had the answer to why there was a lone delivery truck roaming the streets, but it wasn't harming anyone, so hardly any cared. Instead, the uncharacteristically low humidity for a spring day was much more prominent, the air dry like sand and making people's mouths like a desert. Inversely, the heat was rising, weird, since it was only the start of the spring.

As noon ticked closer, the heat just amplified. Downtown, one of the buildings dotting the right side of street dealt with sweltering temperatures in its walls. The 'L' shaped building was a mini-steel mill, too small to require its own section of land to operate, but bigger than most buildings neighboring it.

Being a factory, heat was expected, but that in conjunction with the sweat-inducing weather outside made it certainly uncomfortable to work in.

"God, someone turn on the AC," shouted the head of operations, his voice echoing down into what workers called 'the pit', where a trio of mechanics all collectively groaned. He would've gotten it himself, but the thermostat was located a whopping three whole floors below him on the ground level, and he had a stack of papers he was working on. The guys in the pit, which was only one level lower, were much closer.

"It's a lot hotter down here than it is up there, swine," grumbled one of the men in hardhats. Sparks often flew around in the area, metal being melted down and molded into whatever. Taking the long trek up the stairs to the thermostat, he switched it on, a relaxing breeze quickly coming from the vents.

The group sighed contently, the AC cooling them off considerably. The manager up above also sighed, setting down his work for a moment. That moment, fate decided to turn a little ways towards torment, the AC creating a small draft that swept the papers away and into the pit.

"Gah! N-No!" The head noticed his paperwork flying away and tried to reach out and catch any, but he was too late. They drifted down and were caught in a spray of sparks from one of the furnaces, bursting into flames and catching the crew off guard.

"Wh-What?! Hey, get the fire extinguisher!" One of the men barked orders, but the fellow closest to the papers had his clothes light up, his scream drowning everything else out.

Wriggling out of his vest, the man let it burn as he ran to the stairs, stumbling up them, trying to get the fire extinguisher himself. He tripped, banging his head on one of the steps, causing the entire thing to rattle violently before falling apart, the brittle, rusted screws snapping. He landed back on the floor, he and his coworkers trapped in the pit.

"HEELLLP!"

"SOMEBODY HELP US!"

The head of operations was helpless to save his men, so all he could do was sound the alarm. Scrambling to the switch, he punched it as hard as he could, his ears suddenly being assaulted by a wailing scream from every single speaker in the facility. He left to evacuate everyone he could, the fire department hopefully on their way.

Meanwhile, the almost deafening scream of the fire alarm had caused a few problems outside. A driver enjoying the peace and quietness of his car had been startled by the sudden high pitched shriek, his hands fumbling at the wheel and his tires screeching along the road. He tried to fight against the sharp turn the car was now making, but went too far in the opposite direction, causing the vehicle to flip.

The ensuing crash thankfully wasn't deadly, though the driver was banged up plenty. He thought he was clear because after a few seconds he unbuckled his seatbelt and tried to escape the wreck, only to be jolted, his nose slamming against the wheel. A car had come up from behind and wasn't fast enough to stop, adding to the pileup. Fortunately, this wouldn't become a pattern, the next car to come up stopping on a dime, the young lady driving immediately getting out to help the others.

With the accident on the road keeping emergency services busy, there was no one to help the men trapped in the steel mill's pit, the fire spreading past them and up the building. Chaos seemed to favor the town as things only got worse and worse. However, fate didn't bring about all this for no reason. When darkness rises, its equal in the light emerges to counter it.

The delivery truck came to a stop, the only occupant sensing what was going on throughout the town. He took a deep breath through his aluminum covered face, thinking about his impending destiny. He was made for this.

A shrill rattling signaled that the door was opening. Sunlight poured into the interior, and from the shadows jumped a specimen of a being. Landing triumphantly, he looked around for a moment, scanning everything. Straightening himself, he stood tall at 6'2'', broad shoulders and very defined muscles. Strangely, he lacked any facial features, as if he were wearing a helmet. Around his neck was a simple, silver chain, gleaming in the light much like the rest of his body.

On his chest was a logo; a red, white, and blue emblem that held many meanings. It symbolized greatness, dignity, prosperity, and was worn by those with great virtue. This mark meant great things, and inspired awe by all who glimpsed it. The man who donned it had a sworn duty to all that were in need, for he held the mark of Pepsi, because he was the Pepsiman.

Dashing down the street, those who spotted him out their windows at first raised an eyebrow. It looked like a man in spandex was running down the road just for the fun of it, some even took out their phones to get a quick picture.

One teenager who was mowing his lawn had to stop and wipe his brow, huffing at the heat. A part of him wished it was winter, because then the grass wouldn't be a problem, nor would the heat be so unforgiving. Pepsiman ran past, holding out his arm and snapping his fingers. They made a metal clicking sound. The teen could hardly get a look at Pepsiman due to the harsh glare reflecting off his body, but when he felt something cold in his hands, he was surprised to find that a chill can of Pepsi had materialized.

The source of Pepsiman's amazing abilities were a mystery to all, even himself. All he knew was that when he saw someone in need of a cool, refreshing can of carbonation, he just needed to look and point. He added his own flare to the technique by sometimes snapping his fingers or imitating the sound of a soda being opened, but either way, he could create matter in the form of Pepsi and various other things related to it.

Up ahead was a sharp right turn, something that wasn't optimal if Pepsiman wanted to get to the steel mill quickly. He could see the smoke rising, it was already that bad, so he needed to act now! There happened to be a shed right where the turn was, so Pepsiman chose to take a scenic route. Speeding up, he braced for impact.

Wood splintered, flying out in all directions as Pepsiman plowed through the shed, coming out the other side with a trash can covering his head. Stumbling about, he trampled a few flowers, trying to remove the can while still running. When he finally got it off, Pepsiman found himself in someone's kitchen, having crashed through the sliding screen door. Weaving through the confused family, he got back outside, manifesting some Pepsi for the folks.

The road eventually returned, Pepsiman racing down the block with speed comparable to a professional runner. It was spectacular, he could be in the Olympics if he wanted to!

Cruising down main street, traffic became more dense as the jam from the pileup was felt for almost a full mile. Pepsiman could hear the sirens of the firetrucks up ahead, so he doubled his efforts. He was sure to conserve energy, since he doubted there were any vending machines in the steel mill. That was one of the drawbacks of his power. He needed Pepsi every now and then to keep himself at peak performance, but he couldn't simply create some for himself. It was seemingly the only rule when it came to his ability to deliver Pepsi, he couldn't make some for himself.

Once Pepsiman finally passed the fire trucks, he knew he was close. Smoke clouded out the sun the closer he got to the mill, almost like it was night. It got so dark that Pepsiman's aluminum sheen didn't shine, as there wasn't enough light to reflect. He had arrived.

The alarm still blaring as the fire blazed, the heat radiating from the building threateningly. Clenching his fist, Pepsiman observed the factory for a moment, searching for a safe way to enter. As he examined his options, he thought briefly about his chances. This was his first time out in the field, helping people in serious need.

"There's a lot at stake," Pepsiman thought. For a split second he wondered if he could try and put out some of the fire with his Pepsi, but he quickly discarded that idea. Pepsi actually could put out a smaller, single fire, as the compressed CO2 within the average can was somewhat similar to the same CO2 inside a fire extinguisher.

Pepsiman decided to let the professionals put out the fire while he did his best to rescue anyone trapped in the facility. Resolve and vanilla surged through his veins, and after spotting a fire escape on the side of the building, he made his way to it and carefully entered.

It was a blessing that his body didn't exactly need oxygen, because even a firefighter with the best equipment would be struggling to breathe here. Vision was little difficult, the ash scuffing up Pepsiman's face, smudging along his polished form. He needed to constantly wipe away the grime in order to see.

"Help! S-Somebody, help!" A woman's cry rang out, catching Pepsiman's attention. He followed it until it was practically on top of him, coming from behind a piece of sheet metal that had fallen.

Pepsiman grunted as he lifted the metal, saddened by the sight of some cuts and bruises along the worker's body from the debris. Chucking the metal away, he picked up the wounded worker and brought her to safety, confident that once the rescue began that she'd be the first to be helped. Going back inside, Pepsiman continued his search, listening carefully to distinguish any voices from the crackle of flames.

After saving the few people trapped on the main floor of the steel mill, Pepsiman made it to 'the pit'. Even the area around it was hotter than anything else, the fire so hot it threatened to melt the hero's body if he stayed stood within it for too long.

He had no other choice. Leaping down, Pepsiman landed at the bottom of the pit and began his final search. There were only three people left to save, but everything was starting to ache, his energy was a little low, but he had to push through it.

A small, almost inaudible whisper came from the left. "O-Over here…" wheezed a man lying on the floor, covered in so much ash he blended in. Pepsiman picked him up and put him over his shoulder, trudging along to find the next one. He thought he saw the outline of someone, but he was too slow while carrying another person, so he climbed back out of the pit to get them outside before returning to the inferno.

"Wha-? Hey! Are you here to he-" Another injured workman was already trying to help his last companion when he saw Pepsiman emerge from the smoke. "Dear god…" He trailed off, clearly baffled by the platinum man's appearance, "They sent a guy in spandex?!"

"SHHWAAA!" Pepsiman imitated the sound of a can opening, causing a Pepsi to appear in the annoyed man's hand, and he was pushed aside so our hero can do his work.

The last one was stuck underneath a piece of the upper floor, his legs loosing circulation. Without any delay, Pepsiman slowly began to lift it up, using all his strength. He was stronger than the average human, but it did still have limits. The man who had a Pepsi in his hand tossed it aside, getting down on the ground to reach for his friend.

"Just a little more!" He said, crawling to grab his friend's leg. When he got a hold of the boot, he started to pull. Pepsiman was straining to keep the wreckage from falling again. "I got him!"

Tugging the last workman out, Pepsiman was free to let go of the debris. It slammed back onto the ground, the heat causing the metal to slowly turn red and melt.

"Alright, we need to get outta here!"

Pepsiman halted, doubling over as his chest heaved. A good amount of power had just been expended, and the fire was still blazing, surrounding him and the survivors like it were a legion of gladiators ready to attack. The escape route was just above them, so with the last of his strength, he held onto both workmen and jumped. Soaring through the air, Pepsiman tumbled onto the first floor, throwing the men to get them further towards safety.

He was almost done for, struggling to get up. The vanilla was running short, but even as his body ached and vision grew blurry by the second, he led the others out. The wailing of sirens were a welcome sound, Pepsiman collapsing onto the grass as soon as they were safe.

Pepsiman's work was done. He exhaled one last time before succumbing to his exhaustion.

Half an hour later, only smoke plumed from the ruins of the steel mill. The firefighters had quelled the accident, the flashing red and blue of ambulances lighting up the darkened walls. People were already being treated, the men and women that had been saved by Pepsiman being interviewed.

"So, who exactly saved you from the mill," asked a reporter.

"We- uh… don't really know," the woman who Pepsiman saved glanced over at the stretcher across from her, at the hero. Paramedics tried to help him, but couldn't manage to get under his skin to administer anything. Police even tried removing his 'suit', but to no success. "He just appeared from nowhere and got us the hell out of there."

"Mhm, he's been asleep ever since he saved the two of us," said the man who had been trapped under remains of the first level. The other hadn't said much, only staring at the now lukewarm Pepsi still in his hands. "Those people checking on him say he's still alive, but just in something like a coma…"

The man with the can got an idea. He got up from his stretch and approached Pepsimans'.

"Oi, you can't bother him now, we're still figuring out how to help him," a paramedic stopped him.

"Wait, I think… maybe this'll help?"

"Uh…" the paramedic tried not to chuckle, think it absolutely preposterous that a can of Pepsi could help someone in a coma. "Sir, I don't th-"

"Don't give me that," the man didn't even let the paramedic finish, "Look at the logo on his chest! It's gotta do something, not get out of my way." He shoved the opposition away and cracked the can open. Surprisingly, there was still some fizz left in the drink.

Merely the sound of a Pepsi can opening was enough to get Pepsiman's finger to twitch. Bringing the drink over, the man held it near the unconscious Pepsiman, and not really knowing how to give it to him, simply poured it across the hero's face. Slowly, it disappeared, being absorbed through the material.

BUM BUM!

"PEPSIMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!" A group of disembodied voices exclaimed Pepsiman's name, steam rising off the stretcher. Pepsiman stood atop it, revived.

Turning his head down, Pepsiman looked at the man who had given him that sweet, sweet Pepsi. Even though the hero lacked any visible eyes, the worker could feel Pepsiman's gaze. Nodding gently, he came down from the stretcher to recollect himself. After making sure everyone was alright, Pepsiman created a few cans of Pepsi for the medics that were trying to help him and the firefighters who managed to put an end to those dangerous flames.

Deciding not to linger, Pepsiman soon took off, running like he always did. He had no destination, but he knew that if any trouble were to plague the town and the people in it, he'd be there to help.

The glimmering light shining off his aluminum body would be the first sign he was present, alongside the sudden appearance of a Pepsi in someone's hand. To him, nothing was ever owed, as long as he could deliver a soda.

If he ever heard the saddening cry of carbonation, whenever it cried throughout the nation, he'd be there. When the world needed hydration, salvation would come in a can!

The End.