Aaron woke up in the dark. His body was getting more achy with the passage of time. More villains. More accidents. More injuries. When Jyoti had recently been awarded her doctorate in Physics, he'd gone into semi-retirement as Dragonfly. Chicago had other heroes; he'd met several of them. They could carry on the legacy. He was in his mid-30s, and his body had already seen more damage than most people do in a lifetime. Popping his left shoulder from that horrible fall fighting the Dream Machine all those years ago, Aaron looked at the clock. Four AM. Time to head over to Heroes and make open shop.
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A hundred miles away and several hours later, Professor Jyoti Singh finished up her 3 o'clock class with a quote from Neil Degrasse Tyson: "We are part of this universe; we are in this universe, but perhaps more important than both of those facts, is that the universe is in us."
As the class cleared out, the young Indian woman gather her stuff and prepared to leave. The last week had been relatively quiet; no more need for Damsel, though Jyoti had paid attention as Sidhe began canvasing the quadrangle on patrols. As Jyoti prepared to leave, she spotted a student leaving from a rear seat that caught her attention. Those thick, red locks. Jyoti flashed back to days before when Damsel had helped during a bombing on campus. That woman. That was her! Sidhe, also known as Mina Brooks.
As she left "Theoretical Physics 110," Mina considered whether the class was really for her. Something about the professor, Singh, captivated her, but the subject matter was way over her head. Stepping into the hall, the young woman caught sight of someone she hadn't expected to see. It was the blond stetchy man. The frat-boy hero she'd noticed at the protest weeks before, helping out in the aftermath of the bombing. A warm, tingly feeling centered on Mina, and she couldn't help but smile.
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The sky was gray as Will Sutton walked on the east side of campus toward the Phi house. Finally. Classes were starting to get in the way of the Rubber Band's social life. Dammit! he'd started thinking of himself as "Rubber Band." After the attack at the protest, he'd been "outed" to his fellow fraternity members as a stretchy hero, and he'd tried to take it in style. But honestly, he felt like he could do more with these powers than be a mascot for a frat.
And then there was the red-haired girl. Her eyes haunted him. She was so different, he couldn't put his finger on it. But he'd been looking for her all over, hoping to catch sight of her. The hero of his dreams.
As Will crossed the street, he felt a tremor under his feet. Suddenly, the world was up-ended! The concrete flew into the air, and Will knew before he hit the ground that it would hurt, big time.
But he also knew he would bounce.
The others on the street, the commuters in on West Street, had no such luck. Their cars flew through the air. People screamed in fear as the world erupted under them. And from the eruption, a large, bipedal lizard stood in the middle of the street.
Will did what he could to mitigate the damage. He grabbed hold of cars and tried to pull them to the ground safely. Will stared at the giant lizardine image in shock. It looked like Gozilla.
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Out of the corner of her eye, Jyoti watched the scene unfold on West Street. She knew it was mere blocks from her home in the former Triumph HQ overlooking Stevenson. Strapping on her wings, Damsel left the suite via the same balcony Dragonfly had flown out of years before, and zipped southwest.
As she lowered into the scene, she noted Will using his elastic powers to help the civilians escape destruction.
"Well, we meet again!" Damsel called out to the blond teen.
Will looked into the sky. The Indian chick.
"Hey, yeah, nice to see you. What's up?"
"Evidently, we're fighting a giant lizard!" Damsel shouted. "You keep doing you! I'll fight this thing!" Jyoti tossed a humming bomb at the lizard as it moved toward downtown.
The humming bomb, of course, didn't limit the creature's movement significantly. Not that Jyoti thought it would.
"Hey, Bungee! See if you can create a trip wire!" Jyoti shouted.
Bungee, Will thought? Well, whatevs. He reached out to a light pole anchored across the street and looped his arms around it a dozen times.
Will felt the strain as the creature pushed against his arms. At that instant, Damsel threw a humming bomb at its feet. Instinctively, will pulled backward. Mech-godzilla began to stumble and fall toward the ground. In seconds, it exploded into thin air, a green, grid-like after-image being briefly visible before disappearing.
After a few minutes of helping bystanders, Damsel and Bungee met on the side of the street as Stevenson's emergency vehicles arrived to help.
"Hi," Jyoti nodded. "Well done, young man."
"Hey, thanks!" Will said, drawn out of his arrogance briefly by the compliment.
As the two conversed, a young woman descended from the air.
"You!" the red-haired woman commented. Damsel and Bungee looked up at the red-curled, green and grey garbed woman approached.
"Looks like we're all here!" Damsel added as the woman lowered herself to the ground. She missed the quick exchange of looks between Sidhe and Bungee.
"Not all!"
From the sky dropped a large, wolf-like beast. electronic blips appearing across his chest.
"What? So I missed you guys the first time. What's the plan?" the man commented. Damsel, Bungee and Sidhe exchanged looks. What was the plan, indeed?
Four heroes sat in the lounge area of the former Triumph Headquarters, now the private residence of one Jyoti Singh. Standing near her new television, a modest 52" version that had replaced the ancient monstrosity that had been there before: Singh, now in the guise of Damsel, the superheroine former kid-partner of Dragonfly, paused the video. Will Sutton, AKA Bungee, as she had dubbed him, sat uncharacteristically nervous on the couch next to the beautiful, if tall, young woman with thick red locks, known as Sidhe. Sidhe sat upright on the couch, her ankles crossed in her gray boots, her kelly green cape draped beside her. She felt a strange warmth inside sitting next to Will, and had moved slightly to "see the screen better" (but really to move her hips closer to the blond, sculpted hunk).
Finally, the last arrival at the scene an hour ago in downtown Stevenson, Lil Monster stood next to the pool table, his thick, dark hair interrupted every now and then on his chest by a random readout or LED light. Jyoti was glad the floor had been reinforced to support Cazmonster over a decade ago, or else it might not hold the similarly sized being she saw before her.
On the screen before them was a recording, or rather, two recordings, of the events of an hour ago. The first was from the point of view of a traffic camera at an intersection a block away from the "incident." The second, inset on the screen in smaller size so that both were running simultaneously, we from Damsel's contact lens camera.
Four heroes sat in the lounge area of the former Triumph Headquarters, now the private residence of one Jyoti Singh. Standing near her new television, a modest 52" version that had replaced the ancient monstrosity that had been there before: Singh, now in the guise of Damsel, the superheroine former kid-partner of Dragonfly, paused the video. Will Sutton, AKA Bungee, as she had dubbed him, sat uncharacteristically nervous on the couch next to the beautiful, if tall, young woman with thick red locks, known as Sidhe. Sidhe sat upright on the couch, her ankles crossed in her gray boots, her kelly green cape draped beside her. She felt a strange warmth inside sitting next to Will, and had moved slightly to "see the screen better" (but really to move her hips closer to the blond, sculpted hunk).
Finally, the last arrival at the scene an hour ago in downtown Stevenson, Lil Monster stood next to the pool table, his thick, dark hair interrupted every now and then on his chest by a random readout or LED light. Jyoti was glad the floor had been reinforced to support Cazmonster over a decade ago, or else it might not hold the similarly sized being she saw before her.
On the screen before them was a recording, or rather, two recordings, of the events of an hour ago. The first was from the point of view of a traffic camera at an intersection a block away from the "incident." The second, inset on the screen in smaller size so that both were running simultaneously, we from Damsel's contact lens camera.