Superstar rushed into the building, moving at fifty miles an hour easily. His eyes whipped left and right, picking out details with super-fast visual co-ordination. He had heard that there was some hideout’s of the American Eagle hidden around town, and figured these must be one of them.

He slowed his metabolism to normal human limits, pulled out his phone and called Backstreet “I’m here. Where are you?”

The reception was terrible, but he managed to understand the main message from Backstreet “Suspect ...ilitary clothe...catch”

Suspect wearing military clothes? Suspect of what? Superstar shrugged and took a look around. He saw someone in army camouflage running across the road carrying a duffel bag. Superstar focused, feeling his muscles contort and his heart speed up. He sprung into action, leaping through the glass doors as fast as a cheetah and raced across the road. He caught the man in between the shoulder blades and lifted. With his enhanced strength and speed, the criminal was lifted eight feet into the air and thrown onto the ground a few feet away.

Hoping that he had not just hit some innocent bystander Superstar paused, but his suspicions were justified when the man in the army clothes turned and attempted to hit him with a very fancy glove.

Superstar dodged to the side, and struck out with his fist, hitting the man in the jaw. It was force equivalent to a kick from a full sized horse. The man fell back and rolled, pulling out a gun and firing a few times. Moving at full speed, Superstar dodged most of the shots, but one eventually struck him full in the chest. He staggered, and the criminal got to his feet.

“Most impressive” he said, straightening his suit “I do believe your muscular structure is at least five times more dense than those two in the building. Oh, but never mind about them, you have six, five, four, three, two...one.”

A shockwave shook the street slightly, and the building Backstreet and Karma were in sagged slightly. Superstar looked over his shoulder, which was a mistake. The criminal punched him square in the chest with the power glove, sending him flying into the air.

“It was fun, freak but my transport will be here in two seconds, and I must be away.” He waved jauntily, and suddenly a beam of light shone down on him and he disappeared.

Superstar pulled his cell phone out and speed dialled Gina Lin.

“Captain Lin.”

“Captain, it’s Superstar. There was an explosion at 422 Riverside Avenue, and two of ours are inside. Send lots of backup and paramedics now.” He hung up and sped up his metabolism again and raced into the building.

The lights were off, the sprinklers spraying water everywhere and both the stairwell and the elevator shaft had collapsed slightly, rendering the building incredibly dangerous. He looked around at everything and everyone, taking it all in.

People were racing down the stairs like crazed animals, panicking and screaming. Superstar was almost bowled over by an old man in blue shouting something incomprehensible. A dumpy, middle aged woman saw him, and pointed accusingly.

“You! Damn superhero, I’ll bet your the reason this is happening. Well I’ll get my attorneys onto you. When we’re finished here, you’ll be sorry”

“But...” began Superstar before another tremor shook the building. The woman went pale and ran outside.

Superstar suddenly felt his phone vibrate, and he pulled it out. A text message from Backstreet with one word: Elevator. He raced over to it and pulled with all his strength, pushing his body to the limits and beyond.

The metal doors started bending, and he pulled them open. He collapsed after the strain, and noticed that the elevator hadn’t made its way up to the first floor properly, it was stopped with the roof almost level to the floor.

Jumping onto the roof, Superstar pulled open the emergency access hatch and reached inside. A strong metal grip ensnared his hand, and he pulled again with all his strength.

He lifted Backstreet and Karma out and then slipped into unconsciousness.

*****

As a nurse in St. Theodore General Hospital, Annie Jones had seen some strange stuff in her day, but treating superheroes was a first.

There was three of them; a very, very large man, a woman who was bleeding from a head wound and a teenager who looked as though he hadn’t eaten in months. An odd combination.

For the last two hours, she had been helping Doctor Flynn stabilise them. The first two were easy, simple breaks and straightforward wounds. The man was even conscious. The teen though, he was problematic.

“Freak of nature, this kid” said Annie, checking his pulse. “Heartbeat slower than a drown victim, and yet he looks like he hasn’t eaten in ages. His pulse should be through the roof.”

“The big guy said he has some sort of metabolism control, lets him move like a cheetah” said Savi, her partner in crime. “Must have slowed right down for some reason.”

“Well” said Annie said cheerfully, “let’s get him up to speed again.”

They set up to pump him full of protein, carbohydrates and vitamins, when they noticed Karma getting out of bed. Savi moved to block her.

“Woah, there lady. You need to lay down and get better. No more adventures toda...” Karma gestured angrily, her eyes hazy with pain. Savi was pushed back by a faint telekinetic force, and tripped over. Annie moved to catch her, when suddenly Karma’s staff flew to her hand.

“Whats...going...on...here?” asked Karma, wavering on her feet.

Annie raised her hands non-threateningly “You were injured in a bombing, you’re now at St. Theodore General hospital. The police want to question you later, but for now you need to lay down and take it easy.” Karma was going to be on her back in a few seconds anyway, so getting her to lay down was definitely in her best interest.

She hesitated “Alright. Alright, I’m down.” She dropped the staff and lay down, and Annie went to check on her.

“Not as bad as it could of been. Hiding in the elevator was a smart move, I’ll tell you that. A hefty concussion, broken arm and some brusies? You got off lucky.”

Karma grunted in response.

“Well, the police are talking to the bug guy. They want to know what you were all doing there in the first place.”

Karma grunted again.

“Not so talkative, huh? That’s ok I don’t really mind, but then again I wasn’t the one who collapsed a building in the city centre.”

Karma rolled her eyes, and the two nurses left to update the doctor.

*****

Outside the room, Annie whispered to Savi “Should we tell her?”

Savi shook her head “Let’s wait until she is more awake and not likely to kill someone.”

Annie smiled “Oh my God, a baby, I can’t wait to see her reaction.”

They both wore smiles as they prepared to leave, but then a sudden urgent beeping rang from the room. Annie looked at Savi, her face paled, and they ran inside again.

*****

“We’ve already established that you were using the elevator when the bomb went off. Now you claim you didn’t set the bomb off, but the fact remains you were using a broken elevator. We want to know why” explained the first detective.

Roger nodded. “Well it’s certainly broken now, ain’t it?”

They were sitting in the cafeteria of the hospital, at a table in the corner. The two detectives would have preferred to question him at the station, but with his concussion, Roger wasn’t allowed to leave the hospital for at least twenty four hours, so they made do.

The second detective leaned forward “Look, you’re obviously a superhero of some sort. The fact that you can’t produce any sort of ID authorised by the Department of Justice is against you. We want to know why you were in the building, especially the elevator.”

Roger leaned back “I need some sort of legal representation for this, don’t I?”

The detectives laughed “You are implicated in a bombing that could have nearly killed hundreds. Normally, the lawyers could come in and wiggle you out of this, but being a vigilante means we have extra power to keep you down. Running around in capes without a licence is one step away from being a villain in the eyes of the law. Now, last time. Who are you, why were you in that elevator?”

Roger leaned forward “You most likely already know who I am, and by know you’ve probably worked out that there was a basement under the building that no-one knew about. You’re questioning me to try to implicate me in an event I had nothing to do with.”

“Vigilantis—”

“I had nothing to do with vigilantism today. My compatriots are both card carrying superheroes, I was not involved in any illegal superheroing. I was simply there observing.”

“That’s your story?”

“That’s my story.”

“Care to tell me who and what you were observing? Assuming you weren’t observing your friends plant a bomb in the basement.”

“First off, Karma, the female of the group, and I were looking around the basement. I was there keeping an eye open. A fight broke out between Karma and an armed individual. Handgun of some sort, and one of them power gloves. He triggered a bomb, and kept Karma and myself at bay with the weapon. We called the elevator down, but it wouldn’t get to the top in time. The bomb blew, the elevator stopped. And as far as I know, that’s all that happened.”

“Two questions:

“First off, What were you doing in the basement?”

Raising an eyebrow, Roger answered “Checking out a disturbance. I had the key; she wanted to pound whoever was messing around where they shouldn’t have been.”

The police waited “And...”

“And that is what we were doing in the basement.”

“What was in the basement?”

“Is that your second question?”

“The first one.”

“No, the first one was what we were doing there. What is the second.”

“Fine, we’ll get back to this. You didn’t mention the teenager in that anecdote. The second question is: What was he doing in the basement.”

“Nothing. He didn’t set foot in there.”

“But...”

“He pulled us out of the elevator.”

“Witnesses claim he was striking a man in the street; average height, unidentifiable weapon, military camouflage outfit.”

“That is the man who was shooting us in the basement.”

“And where did he go?”

“No idea. I was in an elevator, remember? Now is that all?”

“For now.”

*****

As Roger walked back to his room, he was nearly bowled over by a group of doctors and nurses who were racing down the hall, pushing a stretcher with a critical patient on it. As they passed him, he noticed they were pushing Alicia.

He jumped out of their way, then followed as fast as he could, shouting at them.

“Hey! Hey! What the hell is going on? Where are you taking her?” he screamed.

One of the nurses, Savi, peeled off from the group to talk to him.

“We just found out she was pregnant when an alarm went off. She must have sustained an injury to her abdomen, and if we don’t hurry, we could lose both her and the baby.”

An image flashed in Roger’s mind, the military clad intruder striking Karma in the stomach with his power glove. His blood suddenly turned to ice, and he nearly collapsed.

“She’s pregnant?” he asked again, his voice hoarse.

“About two weeks, give or take. She might not have known. But we need to hurry, and I’m needed there. We’ll let you know as soon as we do.” Savi gestured to two orderlies walking down the hall, and instructed them to lead Mr. Worthington back to his room.

“No, I’m going with you.” Roger pushed his way out of the orderlies arms and followed Savi to the emergency room.

When they arrived, the doctors were just hooking her up to everything, and the lead surgeon walked into the room.

He looked her over, started requesting surgical tools and medicines, and got to work. While watching, Roger did something he didn’t do very often, he prayed.

As he started praying he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and froze.

Roger was looking at a face he thought he’d never see again. He was looking at Eldritch, the man who saved his life seven years ago.

Eldritch spoke in his ethereal, otherworldly voice. <They’re not going to make it.>

*****

Roger stared in awe at the mystic, at a loss for words. Eldritch seemed...not quite human. He was humanoid, and had all the right features and limbs, but his ears didn’t have lobes, his fingers were too thin and long, his face very narrow and delicate. He was tall, thin and graceful, and no matter how hard one tried, they wouldn’t be able to guess his age.

Eldritch looked sadly at Roger <Both mother and child are fighting for their lives, but only one will succeed. The child just does not have the strength necessary to survive. I am sorry.>

Roger stood, any remnants of his speechlessness gone. “Well, do something! Can’t you do something?! If anyone can save them it’s you! You brought me back from pretty much death, and—”

Eldritch’s expression changed slightly, <And you remember what I said. To be saved from death, payment must be made. I sacrificed much to bring you back from the brink, and you wish me to do this again?> He knew the answer to that question. They both did.

“If you can. Please. And hurry.” Roger gestured out to the surgery, and gasped. The entire operating room was frozen, not a single movement. He looked back at Eldritch.

<There is no need to hurry. This conversation is taking place in the space of a single breath.> He looked hard at Roger. <There are many things men of the world require. Money. Power. Loved Ones. I require none of these, I require only one thing. I sacrificed to bring you back, I will sacrifice again to save your childs life. In return for this, I will require one thing from you.>

Roger looked out at the frozen scene, watching as the woman he loved was fighting to help the child they never had a chance to raise “What do you want? If I can get it, I will give it to you.”

<Servitude.>

Roger looked at Eldritch to see if he was joking.

<I jest not, Roger Worthington. Forces you cannot comprehend are shifting and changing. Dark times are coming, and I fear I will be unable to stop them alone. I require your son’s servitude, as payment for saving both yours and his life.>

Roger stared at him. “You what?”

Eldritch raised his hands. <Peace. I will not take your child from your arms before he is needed, but I warn you now; should the call come, I shall answer it. And I shall require your son.>

Roger hung his head. To let his unborn child die, or to offer him life in the service of someone he wasn’t sure he could trust? There really wasn’t a choice.

“Save him.”

Eldritch nodded solemnly, and spoke before he left. <If it helps, I truly am sorry.> He faded from view, and everything started moving again. Eldritch appeared next to the doctor, but only Roger could see him. He incanted softly, and a warm breeze filled the room. He then reappeared next to Roger, looking extremely weak. He had no colour in his skin, and was having trouble standing up.

<I... I am fine. Your child will live, I healed him before he crossed the line. He will grow into a strong, healthy child.> Eldritch placed his hand on Roger’s shoulder again. <Enjoy your time with him. Raise him well.>

Roger didn’t know what to say. He was furious, grateful and scared. Before he could say anything. Eldritch faded away.

*****

The resident surgeon, Doctor Price, was stunned speechless. The patient was bleeding internally, the child’s vital signs were virtually non-existent, but somehow they both pulled through. He thought the mother might, but he was certain the child was gone. He sniffed the air, and noticed the faint smell of some sort of incense, as if from a memory.

Someone healed her! Doctor Price was no fool, he knew that he wasn’t the miracle worker here. He had attended medical school alongside a metahuman with the power to psionically cause tissue regrowth, causing wounds to disappear. That man now worked in a very private clinic in Switzerland, alongside several other healers.

But healers had limits, and he was certain what he witnessed was on the upper end of those limits. Doubly so because the healer had somehow saved their lives without him noticing. That meant that they were either invisible or able to heal from a far distance, both of which were something he hadn’t heard of before.

He decided a call to someone more qualified to search for a metahuman.

*****

The next day Superstar had showed some great improvement. The four pounds of soup, jello and mince the chef had poured into him in the past eighteen hours had managed to bring his vitals to something resembling a normal healthy teenager, but he was barely conscious. When the police went to question him, Doctor Flynn sent them out.

“...Anything he says is suspect anyway, he’s loaded up on so many painkillers he can’t even speak straight. Come back when his statement won’t be chucked out of court.”

*****

Roger and Alicia were sitting in the recovery room, listening to Doctor Price describe the event.

“I don’t understand,” she said “I’m pregnant, got hit in the stomach by a power glove, and yet my child is healthy?”

“Perfectly healthy. It was some sort of miracle, and I can’t even begin to understand how it happened.” His eyes darted back and forth between them. “So I called the Department of Metahuman Affairs.”

Roger shot up alarmed “What? Why?”

“Whatever happened yesterday was impossible. I know some metahuman healers, but none of them could hope to save both you and the child. A baseline surgical team didn’t stand a chance, I was hoping to save you and remove the foetus before something bad happened. And then BAM!” he slapped his hands together “Picture of health.”

“So you called the DMA?”

“They shuffled me around to a few people, but eventually I managed to talk to a medical officer, and he agreed with me. They are sending out someone to investigate what happened.”

Roger looked at Alicia “Can we be alone for a while, please?”

“Of course.” Doctor Price left the room, and Alicia stared daggers into him.

“You know what happened.”

Roger sighed “Eldritch happened. He appeared there and said he could save you and the baby.”

Alicia looked suspicious “The last time he appeared in town, he made that monster disappear, and saved your life. Now he’s making hospital calls? Two people died yesterday right here, where was he then.”

“He’s not Jesus, he’s... I don’t know what Eldritch is. But he saved your life, and our son’s.”

Alicia zeroed in on the pronoun. “Son? It’s too early to tell whether we’re having a boy or girl, why do you say son?”

“Because Eldritch said we’re having a son.”

Alicia leaned back in her bed. “Why though? I don’t understand, why did Eldritch, THE Eldritch, choose to heal us?”

Roger hesitated, then said “I don’t know, but something tells me we haven’t seen the last of him.”

*****

Two days after the surgery...

The expert from the Department of Metahuman Affairs showed up, with someone from the Department of Justice: Costumed Justice Division. They shooed the police, and sat with Roger, Alicia and Thomas “Superstar” Jones.

“So. Vigilantes, former vigilantes, kids with famous relatives and a baby that no-one thought about when they went to go fight crime” said the DoJ agent, leaning back in his chair. The DMA agent was setting up some sort of gadget on the table.

“First off, we’re going to find out what exactly happened in the surgery room. Then we are going to interview the three of you separately and find out what happened at 422 Riverside Avenue the other day.” The DMA agent raised a scanning wand that was connected to a box connected to a printer. He waved the wand all over Alicia, and the box started flashing and a row of paper come out of the printer. The DoJ looked at it.

“Faint telekinetic vibrations...that matches her power...residual charge from a power glove...hmmm. What’s this?” he showed it to the DMA agent, who shrugged.

“Some sort of residue that the machine can’t place. If the bad guy was a metahuman, it makes sense.”

“Maybe. Okay, scan the father.” The DMA agent started waving the wand over Roger, and explained what it was to them.

“This is a multi-spectrum posthuman scanner. It detects the molecular vibrations left behind by identified metahuman powers, alpha-technological powers and specific radiations. Telekinesis causes small vibrations left around the skin, so we can tell you’re a TK, and the energy emitted by a power glove is recognisable.” The machine flashed, beeped, and printed out Roger’s report.

“No telekinesis... residual power glove charge...and that weird residue again. Hey, look at this, it caused the machine to draw over the same line twice. Haven’t seen that before.”

They scanned Thomas, but he only had the power glove charge.

“Interesting...” said the DMA agent, stroking his day old beard “I want to interview Roger Worthington last, let’s start with wonder kid over here.” They led Thomas to another room, and didn’t come back for ages.

*****

After interviewing Karma, they knew they were not being told something. She had decided not to tell them that Eldritch was the healer, because she wasn’t aware on his official position in the law.

Supernatural posthumans are few and far between, and Eldritch was widely agreed to be the most powerful known. The Federal Bureau of Investigations had a division dedicated to supernatural occurrences, the Psionic and Occult Division. But they dealt with cult leaders, minor demon summoning, and the odd staff of power that fell into an arms dealer’s hands. Eldritch was an ‘international crisis’ type of being. He had appeared to stop the monster known as Cannibal, saved the lives of the New Patriots when they were on the moon, and stopped someone from retrieving Pandora’s Box. None of these event’s could have been done by anyone else, and yet he didn’t ever appear just to be thanked. No parade, not even the keys to one of the cities he has saved. So no-one knew what he was, or where he stood in the grand scheme of things. Most people just seemed to agree that he was a fairy tale, until he was needed.

So Karma didn’t tell the agents that one of the most powerful beings known had decided to save her baby. That would have raised questions as to her importance to Eldritch, or worse, the baby’s importance to him. She didn’t want to know what they would do with her if they realised the truth.

*****

Roger was brought in, and he was wondering why he was left till last. The agents were more than happy to explain.

“We decided to interview you last because you’re position is a most interesting one” said the DMA agent.

“You are meant to be in France with your employer, Nathan Wagner” pointed out the DoJ agent. “Yet here you are in St. Theodore helping run a neighbourhood watch while the American Eagle is out of town.”

The DMA agent picked right up “Which begs the question: who asked you to stay behind? Was it your employer, Nathan Wagner?”

“Funny guy him,” interrupted the DoJ agent, looking thoughtful “I mean, he’s what, fourth, fifth richest person in town, not even on the top ten of Americans, and yet feels like enough of a target to warrant a former metahuman vigilante for a bodyguard?”

“Funny alright. Then it was probably American Eagle, who you obviously met because, well, you’re a crime fighter, he’s a crime fighter.”

“So when he goes on holiday, he asks you to stay here and hold the fort. So you bring in some friends and set up a pretty smooth system.”

“But what about your employer? All alone in France, because the only person he trusts is here doing something else.”

They both leaned forward. “Sounds fishy to us.”

The DoJ agent said “According to our records, American Eagle first appeared nine years ago at the Endeavour Festival to avert a bombing by the ‘Phantom of the Festival’. Three weeks later, he approaches us to become a recognised, law abiding superhero.

“He surrendered his ID documents to us, and told us his name was Peter Lawson, a former security guard.

“Now, before we came to talk to you, we checked around town. Stellar Security doesn’t exist. Never has. Peter Lawson, again, doesn’t exist.”

The DMA agent took over “So we take this information, put it with the fact we can’t figure out who you’re taking orders from, and apply Occam’s Razor”

“The simplest explanation is often the correct one.”

“And we decide that American Eagle and Nathan Wagner are one and the same. The fact we didn’t have that on record means a world of trouble for some folk, including you.”

“Now, Roger. Start talking.”

Legacy and all characters contained within ™ and © 2009 David Kachel.
Metahuman Press and all related content ™ and © 2003-2009 Nicholas Ahlhelm unless otherwise noted.
Some fonts by Blambot.