The armored truck barreled down the expressway, an unstoppable brick of steel and fiberglass on wheels. Inside, a trio of masked criminals frantically argued while the plan for their elaborate heist continued to spiral out of control. "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" the driver screamed, directing the 16-ton mass at his fingertips through yet another police barricade.

  "Shut up and drive!" another one yelled from the back. "Just get us to the waterfront!"

  As a group of police cruisers moved up and surrounded them in an attempt to box them in, the third man flung the side door open and brandished one of their stolen Aethercite weapons. With a deafening BRRRRRT, a blue beam of light sliced the front of one of the cruiser's clean off, sending molten debris careening into several other cars. "Suck on that, pigs!" he shouted as the remaining police cruisers fell back to a safer distance.

  "They're backing off! Nice work!"

  But before they could celebrate, a sonic boom suddenly rattled the cabin of the vehicle. "Shit! It's fucking Luminary!" the driver shouted.

  About 100 yards ahead of them, a figure in a gold bodysuit appeared in the truck's path, his hands on his hips, and his golden locks flowing in the winter winds.

  "Run him down!"

  Luminary simply raised his hands and caught the front bumper of the truck, slowing it to a complete stop while his feet tore a pair of deep gouges into the asphalt. Then, with the slightest bit of effort, he flipped the entire 16-ton vehicle into the air. It soared end over end before crashing back onto the asphalt with a metallic crunch, landing on its roof like a beached whale.

  As the trio of criminals crawled out of the wreck, Luminary zipped around them with incredible speed, plucking them from the wreckage one by one and dropping them at the feet of the ABPD officers who were finally moving back in to make arrests. "You have the right to remain silent," the hero announced, striking a dramatic pose. "And the right to get a real job."

  Then, Luminary turned to face the camera as the scene continued to unfold in the background. "Hi there," he said, giving a perfect smile with his perfect teeth. "You may know me as Luminary, hero of Aurora Bay. But I'm here to tell you that it doesn't take superpowers to be a real hero." He gestured toward the police officers in the background. "Heroes like the brave men and women of the Aurora Bay Police Department. And heroes like you." He flashed another smile at the camera. "If you think you've got what it takes, then come apply to the Apex Corporation, the official sponsor of Aurora Bay's greatest superhero. And who knows? Maybe you could be the next Luminary!"

  ***

  What a fucking dork.

  Luminary. They called him 'the real-life Superman.' And yeah, he was probably one of the most powerful metahumans in the world. Faster than a speeding bullet. More powerful than a locomotive. The whole nine yards. But all I saw was just another corpo-backed cape with a clean suit and a carefully curated public image.

  I grabbed the remote and shut off the TV. My dinner break was over.

  It had been a few days since the fire at Conley, and my progress toward becoming 'Kingslayer' was leaving much to be desired. I'd spent most of my time just cleaning my apartment, hitting up the local Army-Navy store to cobble together something resembling a costume, and driving enough for my rideshare apps so I could make rent this month.

  It had been a dull few days, and I felt like I was already losing the momentum from my future self's push. At this rate, the world was going to end before I even got my supervillain career off the ground.

  My phone buzzed, rattling the coffee table. It was Ruby, probably tired of waiting for me to show some initiative.

  > Hey. Hadn't heard back from you, so I was just checking in. Hope everything's okay.

  I'd decided to keep her at arm's length for now, but I didn't want to let that bridge burn completely. I fired off a quick reply.

  Hey. Sorry, I've been a bit swamped. Everything's fine. <

  > Oh thank god

  > I was worried I'd scared you off

  I chuckled at the idea of one of the city's greatest heroes fussing over my feelings. I let her sweat for a minute before replying.

  Nah, you're fine. <

  Looking forward to a proper night out with you. Just need to find the time. <

  She responded with a burning heart emoji, and I couldn't help but smile. I was about to send another reply when a knock at my door stole my attention. I set my phone down with an annoyed sigh and shuffled across the room.

  I cracked the door open just enough to see the two imposing figures in black suits and sunglasses standing in the hallway. I looked them up and down, figuring they were cops or something. "You got a warrant?" I asked.

  The two men looked to each other, confused, then turned back to me. "No, we're—"

  "Then fuck off," I said, slamming the door in their faces.

  I made it about three steps when the door flew open, a hard kick from one of the men splintering the cheap wood around the lock. I spun around to face the intruders. "So, you're not cops," I said, clenching my fists. "Who the hell are you?"

  The lead suit stepped forward, pulling his coat aside just enough to reveal the handgun in his shoulder holster. "Why don't we go for a ride?" he asked, not bothering to sugarcoat it. "The boss wants a word."

  "Nah, I'm good, thanks."

  The second, larger suit stepped forward and cracked his fist against my jaw. It was nothing against my metahuman durability, but I sold it as best I could, reeling back from the blow. I had no idea who these guys were, but I definitely didn't want them knowing I was a metahuman.

  "We weren't asking," said the suit.

  Their actions screamed organized crime, but these guys were too clean-cut to be mobsters. The way they carried themselves screamed private security or maybe some kind of CIA-adjacent alphabet agency.

  "Let's go," said the lead man. "Now."

  "Fine," I sighed.

  Without another word, they escorted me down the eight flights of stairs to the ground level, where a black Lincoln town car waited under a lit streetlamp. They shoved me in the back seat and hopped in after, sandwiching me between them as the driver pulled the car away from the curb.

  We rode in silence for a good ten minutes, streetlights and partially lit skyscrapers flashing by in the night sky as I tried to piece together what was going on. "So," I said, breaking the silence. "Anybody got any good jokes?"

  "Shut the fuck up."

  "Hey, chill out, dude," I protested.

  The suit to my left punched me in the stomach, and I did my best impression of a regular guy getting punched in the stomach. "Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

  "Alright, alright," I wheezed, feigning pain. "Jesus fucking Christ."

  After a while longer, the car finally pulled up to some forgotten warehouse in the Seaport that looked like it was about to collapse in on itself. The suits quietly ushered me inside, past rusted metal beams, cracked concrete, and water-stained walls. "Nice place you got here," I quipped, not quite ready to give up the bit.

  "Down there."

  They pointed to a flight of stairs leading down into the belly of the warehouse. I hesitated for a moment, but another not-so-subtle shove from behind was all the encouragement I needed.

  The world below the warehouse looked like something right out of a spy thriller. The entire basement had been converted into some kind of state-of-the-art command center, with banks of servers lining the walls, a giant map of Aurora Bay on the far wall, and a handful of people typing away at computer terminals.

  They brought me in deeper, through a long corridor lit by harsh fluorescent lights, until the hallway opened up into a central office overlooking the rest of the operation. An older man in a suit stood by the large, floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the entire floor, while six masked figures in tactical gear stood guard nearby, submachine guns held at the low ready.

  With a sigh, the older man turned and took a seat at his desk while my two escorts shoved me into a chair in front of him. Like the others, he looked like a lifetime corporate or government type: slicked-back silver hair, a face that'd seen better days, and a thousand-yard stare hidden behind mirrored aviators. "Mr. Shaw, thank you for coming in," he said dryly, knowing full well his goons had dragged me here against my will.

  "Alright, what the fuck even is this?" I asked, my patience wearing thin. "Who the fuck are you people?"

  One of my escorts punched me over the back of the head, but I was pretty over the whole 'pretending to be hurt' thing by now. I turned and gave him a withering glare over my shoulder. "Dude, I swear to God, if you put your hands on me again, I'm gonna break every fucking bone in your body."

  The older man cleared his throat, then dropped a manila folder on the desk in front of me. "Mr. Shaw, let's keep things civil, shall we?" he said. "My name is Mr. Silver, and I work for an organization known as Keystone. I doubt you've heard of us." He gestured toward the folder. "Take a look, please."

  I opened the folder, and inside was a stack of pictures. It started with several photos of my coffee date with Ruby, then followed me as I went about my business over the past few days. "What the fuck is this?" I asked.

  "Ms. Frye has been under our surveillance for quite some time," said Silver. "She and her little group have been interfering in our operations across the city for the past several months. We would like to... remove them from the board."

  I felt my blood start to boil at the thought of these assholes threatening Ruby and the others. "What does this have to do with me?" I asked.

  Silver stood from his desk and began pacing back and forth. "You're a new variable in the equation, Mr. Shaw," he continued. "Ms. Frye seems quite taken with you, and we would like to exploit this opportunity. You will get close to her, and her little club, and you will provide us with actionable intelligence on their movements so that we might finally put an end to their little games."

  I scratched my chin. "Let's say, for the sake of argument, I don't want to do any of that," I replied. "What then?"

  Silver gave me a cold, humorless smile, then reached into his coat pocket and produced an Aethercite knife. He set the weapon down on the desk, then activated it, and blue energy crackled and danced along the edge. "Then we'll cut pieces off of you and send them to Ms. Frye to convince her to stay out of our business," he said.

  I clenched my jaw, my anger continuing to bubble up from within. "Here's another idea," I said, my voice dangerously low. "How about you let me walk out of here, and we forget about this whole thing, huh?"

  A slow, raspy laugh escaped from Silver's mouth. "Mr. Shaw, I don't think you understand the situation you're in," he said, pressing his palms against the desk and leaning in close. "This isn't a negotiation. This is a choice between a paycheck and a world of pain. And it's a choice you're going to make right now."

  I nodded. "Yeah, I was afraid of that," I said. "So, is that your final answer?"

  "My final answer is that you are either going to work for us, Mr. Shaw," Silver said, "or you are going to regret the day you were born."

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  A long sigh escaped me as I leaned back in my chair. The path forward was clear: these fuckers needed to die. "Well, thank you for making this easy, at least."

  I focused my mind on the Aethercite knife resting on the desk, gripped it tight, then shot it through Silver's throat as hard as I could. It carried his body into the air and slammed him through the large window behind him, sending broken glass clattering to the floor below.

  "Oh, fuck, he's a meta!"

  The guards leveled their submachine guns and opened fire, but I had already raised my telekinetic barrier. The room erupted into a storm of chaos, but I was the calm eye at its center. Countless munitions ricocheted off my barrier, peppering the walls of the room and wounding my attackers.

  I stood up from my chair, then made good on my promise to break every bone in the body of the suit who'd hit me. I hurled both of my escorts against a wall with the same force I'd used to hold up 60 tons worth of cargo containers at Conley, and they crumpled to the floor.

  While the guards took cover from their own ricocheting gunfire, I reached out and pulled the pins on their grenades with my powers, then pushed them back with my thoughts. The resulting explosions filled the room with fire, smoke, and screams.

  My psychic awareness could feel the others down on the command floor panicking, trying to understand what was happening. I looked down from the shattered window at the terrified faces of the people working below. Most of them scrambled for cover, others froze in fear, and a few brave guards raised their weapons, not yet realizing the true gravity of the threat they'd let walk into the middle of their base of operations.

  They opened fire, but every round flattened harmlessly against my shield. Then, I yanked the Aethercite knife from Silver's corpse. It danced through the control room, cleanly slicing the throats of the few who still dared to stand against me.

  And just like that, it was over.

  I stepped back from the window, my mind on fire, vision blurring, blood gushing from my nose. I pulled the knife back and snatched it out of the air, wiping the blood off on the nearest corpse before tucking it into my belt. The two suits I'd thrown against the wall lay mangled and helpless on the floor but still breathing. I sauntered over and squatted down beside the one that was still conscious.

  "So," I said, tapping him on the forehead with the blunt side of the knife. "Who the fuck are you people? And what are you doing in Aurora Bay?"

  "Get fucked," he coughed, spraying me in the face with a mixture of blood and saliva.

  "Wrong answer," I said, before plunging the knife into his shoulder, making him howl in pain. "Last chance to talk before I start doing some really creative shit with this thing."

  "Alright! Alright. We're a privately run paramilitary group," he groaned. "And we’re the only ones willing to do what it takes to stop you metahuman freaks."

  I raised an eyebrow. "And you consider the Astra Gems a threat to… whatever it is you're trying to do here?"

  "You're all threats!" he screamed. "Every last one of you! You're weapons of mass destruction walking around in human skin! We can't trust governments, we can't trust corporations, so we're doing what needs to be done ourselves!"

  I sighed. Just what I needed, a black ops extremist group with a hard-on for offing metahumans. "So, this Aethercite smuggling operation, that's your doing, I take it?" I asked.

  He nodded weakly. "We're just levelling the playing field," he sputtered. "We can't fight you on your terms, so we have to adapt. And that means getting our hands on Aethercite tech. And those stupid cunts keep fucking with our operations!"

  I yanked the knife from his shoulder, and he let out another pained gasp. "And you thought you could use Ruby's latest crush to get to them," I said, shaking my head. "That about right?"

  "Yeah," he wheezed.

  I glanced back at the carnage in the room behind me. "And how'd that work out for you?"

  "It doesn't matter," he coughed. "There are dozens of other sites like this in Aurora Bay. Keystone is everywhere. You haven't stopped anything, you've just..."

  I'd heard enough. With a quick jab of the knife through his heart, I ended him, then finished off his partner for good measure. Probably safer to get rid of any witnesses. The whole 'extremist group of metahuman hunters' thing complicated matters more than I was prepared for right now.

  I took a deep breath to steady myself, my psychic awareness expanding through the complex. Distant footsteps. Shouting over radios. A door slamming somewhere deep within. They knew something was wrong now.

  Good.

  I wiped my nose on the sleeve of my jacket and made my way toward the exit as best I could. Old habits from my time in the military slid back into place. Clear left. Clear right. Checked my doors and corners. Doors and corners, that's how they get you. The Army hadn't trained me to fling around a knife powered by magic space rocks with my mind, but it had trained me how to move through buildings full of people who wanted me dead.

  I had to play the long game now. My powers were strained, pushed well beyond what I was used to. I had to use them sparingly. Solid cover may not have been as effective as a telekinetic shield against small-arms fire, but my metahuman durability would cover the gaps.

  The first QRF team rounded the corner, shotguns loaded with armor-piercing slugs raised and ready. I ducked back into an office just as the wall behind me exploded in a shower of drywall and plaster. I pressed my back to the wall, took a breath, and listened as they got closer. "Tango in the office on the right!" one of them shouted.

  You just gave up your position, buddy.

  I flicked the knife around the doorway and down the hall until I heard a squelch and a scream of agony. That was the distraction I needed. I charged through the doorway and laid into them with a brutal ferocity, relying on my natural metahuman strength to wrestle the shotgun from the wounded point man.

  I slammed the butt of the shotgun into the next guard's face, sending him stumbling back into the third, then unloaded three slugs into the two of them before they could regain their footing. The final guard barely even knew what was happening when the knife buried itself into the back of his neck.

  Four quick, clean kills. No time to celebrate. I had to keep moving.

  Room by room, I swept the place as I made my way toward the exit. Offices with folding tables and expensive laptops. A supply room stacked with crates of who knows what. Another four-man QRF team that was ill-prepared to face an armed and trained metahuman ex-soldier wielding a floating knife.

  Eventually, I came to a heavily reinforced steel door, an electronic keypad glowing ominously on the wall next to it. Whatever was in here must have been important. I raised my shotgun, then lowered it with a sigh. No point in wasting ammo on this thing. That only ever worked in movies anyway.

  I dug deep, gripping the slab of metal with my mind and prying it from its hinges while my head throbbed in protest. It tore free from the frame with a tortured screech and slammed into the ground with a deafening thud. I rounded the corner into what looked like another storage room, the walls lined with lockers and racks of Aethercite-powered weapons and equipment.

  Before I could investigate further, a muffled plea for help from the back of the room grabbed my attention. I cautiously made my way toward the sound, shotgun held at the low ready.

  Tucked away in a dark corner was a steel cage. Inside, a petite Filipino woman sat in a chair, her short dark hair accented with streaks of red, blue, and green. A strip of duct tape covered her mouth, wrists bound behind her with handcuffs, and her ankles secured with leg irons. She wore a simple black hoodie and jeans, but her eyes, a mix of brown and green, held a defiant spark.

  I wasted no time slicing through the lock on the cage with the Aethercite knife, then reached out and gently ripped the duct tape from her mouth. "Are you here to kill me?" she asked, her voice raspy.

  "What?" I replied. "No, not unless you're with these fuckers."

  She shook her head. "Would I be chained up in their basement if I worked for them?"

  "Probably not," I said. "They kidnap you for dating a cape, too?"

  "What? No," she said, clearly confused. "I'm a hacker. They... they wanted me to get them access to the Aurora Bay CivGrid, but I wouldn't, so they threw me in here."

  Aurora Bay CivGrid. The city's digital nervous system. Public utilities, transportation, emergency services, law enforcement databases. Everything. If bad actors like Keystone got in there, they could take over the whole city. "Well, that's not good," I muttered. "Let's get you out of here."

  I swiftly cut through her chains with the Aethercite knife, freeing her. "Stay close to me," I said. "I'll keep you safe."

  She scrambled to her feet and nodded, her eyes still wide with a mixture of fear and awe. "Who... who are you?" she asked.

  "Uhh... call me 'Kingslayer,' I guess," I told her.

  "I'm Packet," she replied. "You're a meta?"

  I nodded. "Is that gonna be a problem?"

  She shook her head, a little grin playing at the corners of her mouth. "Not for me," she said.

  "Alright, 'Packet,' let's go."

  "Wait," she said. "They keep all their extra fancy shit in here. Plenty of Aethercite tech to borrow. We should load up."

  I nodded. "Good call," I agreed.

  We began scavenging through the room, grabbing whatever looked the most interesting. Then, Packet moved past me toward the far wall. "Bingo," she said, pulling aside a heavy tarp and revealing a glass case. Inside stood a high-tech suit of armor mounted upright on a mechanical brace. It looked like the Guyver and Iron Man had a baby and painted it a deep matte black. Veins of blue Aethercite energy pulsed gently along its frame, as its featureless visor seemed to stare into my soul.

  "Whoa," I muttered, my eyes wide. "What the hell is that?"

  "Some prototype Japanese shit," Packet replied. "Lightweight Aethercite-powered armor. Probably made for some Yakuza assassin or something. Guess these Keystone assholes were trying to reverse-engineer it."

  It was perfect. I could feel the power thrumming through it even through the glass. This was the kind of gear that could turn a regular schmuck into a serious threat. And on me? It could be a game-changer.

  It screamed 'Kingslayer.'

  I slammed the butt of the shotgun into the glass, shattering the case, then pulled the suit free of its brace. It looked sturdy, but not bulky, like a racing wetsuit with plating over the chest, shoulders, and limbs.

  I stripped down to my boxers and started pulling on the suit. It was a tight fit, but once I had it on, I felt a strange hum as it integrated with my body's nervous system and musculature. The helmet locked into place with a soft hiss, and a heads-up display flickered to life inside the visor. Night vision, thermal imaging, biometrics... all the bells and whistles.

  "Damn," Packet whistled. "You look like a proper badass."

  "I feel like one, too," I chuckled, flexing my fingers.

  The suit responded instantly, servos whirring under the armor plating and blue Aethercite veins along the arms brightening as I clenched my fists. I could feel its power flowing into me, enhancing my strength, speed, and durability even further. I couldn't wait to put it to the test.

  I scanned the room with the suit's HUD, near-instantly identifying a number of weapons, grenades, and gadgets that I quickly strapped to the suit's built-in equipment harnesses. Then, I saw the sword.

  It was a simple-looking, single-edged Aethercite blade resting on a weapons rack against the wall. I picked it up and activated it, then gave it a few experimental swings, the blade cutting through the air with a menacing hiss. The knife was good, but this? This felt right.

  "So... are you good to go?" Packet asked, strapping on a tactical vest over her hoodie and loading an Aethercite pistol she'd found with a fresh canister.

  An alert popped up in my HUD, showing another QRF team of four bearing down on our position, with a warning that they were equipped with Aethercite weapons. "Better hang back for this one," I said to Packet. "They brought the big guns. I'll let you know when it's clear."

  Packet gave me a nod, then took cover behind a stack of crates. "Don't get yourself killed," she said.

  "No promises," I replied.

  I stepped out of the room and into the hallway, an Aethercite pistol in each hand and the sword sheathed on my hip. The QRF team quickly rounded the corner, opening fire with their Aethercite rifles. The weapons roared as they blasted blue beams of energy at me. With the suit on, I was too fast for them. I dodged and weaved through the deadly beams, returning fire with my pistols as the suit's HUD painted targets on their chests and heads.

  One by one, they fell, their ballistic armor no match for the awesome power of Aethercite. When the last man dropped, I gave Packet the all-clear, then made my way back to her. "Alright, let's get the fuck out of here before more of these assholes show up," I said.

  She cautiously emerged from her hiding spot, wielding her pistol with all the expertise of a mall cop. "Works for me," she said.

  We moved quickly and quietly toward the exit, my new suit's servos humming silently with each stride. There were no new threats in my HUD, no sign of any reinforcements. Just the lingering smell of gunpowder, blood, and burnt metal. As we made our way up the stairs, back toward the warehouse's ground level, the only sounds were our footsteps and the steady rhythm of my breathing inside the helmet.

  I threw open the hatch that led up to the ground floor, and we were met with the cold air of the dilapidated warehouse. The black town car I'd arrived in was still parked out front, waiting for its next passengers. "Think we can hotwire this thing?" I asked Packet.

  She gave me a confident grin. "Not necessary," she said. "Keys should be in the center console."

  I walked over and opened the passenger door, then rifled through the console. Sure enough, the keys were there. I picked them up and tossed them to Packet. "You got anywhere safe we can go?" I asked. "Pretty sure my place is compromised."

  "I have a safehouse in the South End," she said, getting in the driver's seat. "Keystone's definitely tracking this car, though. We'll have to hoof it for the last leg."

  The car ride was quiet and tense. Packet navigated the city's streets with practiced ease, while I kept my senses peeled for any signs of pursuit. My suit's HUD remained clear of threats as the city lights of Aurora Bay streaked by. These Keystone fuckers had probably cut their losses by now; I doubt they wanted to risk an open conflict in the city proper. They'd risk revealing whatever nefarious plan they were cooking up ahead of schedule.

  We rolled through the last stretch of darkened streets, Packet carefully weaving through traffic before pulling into a maintenance access beneath the Route 93 overpass. She parked the car in an out-of-the-way corner and killed the engine. "Alright," she said, cutting through the silence. "We gotta head into the South End on foot. If anybody asks, we're part of the Aurora Bay LARPing Club."

  I gave her a look, but my helmet concealed it. "Great," I deadpanned.

  "Oh, one more thing," she said, before reaching into the pocket of her hoodie.

  She pulled out a small, circular device that was no bigger than a penny, then handed it to me. "What's this?" I asked.

  "Keep it on your person," she replied. "It'll keep you off CivGrid's surveillance systems. Facial recognition, gait analysis, all that good stuff. You won't be invisible to human eyes, but it'll make you a digital shadow."

  "Sounds useful," I remarked. "And you're just handing it over, no questions asked?"

  Packet looked me up and down. "I'd still be in a bad way if it weren't for you," she replied. "You saved my life, and... well, let's just say not everyone in this city thinks a centralized surveillance network is a great idea. Consider it a token of our trust in you."

  I turned it over in my gloved fingers. "Where the hell were you keeping this, anyway?" I asked. "The Keystone goons forget to search you?"

  "Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to," she shot back with a smirk.

  "Yeah, fair enough," I said, tucking the device into one of my suit's compartments. "Thanks."

  "Don't thank me yet," she said. "We still gotta make it back to the safehouse."

  I nodded. "Alright, then," I said. "Lead the way."

  With that, we ditched the town car and began our careful trek into the South End. As we walked along the city streets, I couldn't help but reflect on what had happened earlier today.

  I had crossed a lot of lines; I had no illusions about that. This wasn't my first time taking a life, though. I'd done plenty of that in the Army. But this was different. Easy. Maybe a little too easy. It felt like I was walking home from a long shift at work instead of having just murdered my way out of the secret base of some black ops paramilitary group.

  And the suit I'd stolen from them? It was already starting to fit a little too well.