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chaotic-orphan · 1 month ago

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Vendetta (X)

Read part one // Continued from here

Strap in lads, this is gonna hurt.

*~*~*~*~*

Supervillain walked with purposeful, basking strides back towards the stage, villains parting like an honour guard for him as he walked. Villain walked behind, parading Hero after him, the whip cutting into Hero’s wrists and yanking them stumbling forward. Hero felt the coldness of Villain’s shadows possessing them, keeping them upright even as they longed to just pass out.

They didn’t want to fight anymore, they wanted to lie down and die with Superhero. They longed to plunge their… their sword that killed…

Tears somehow had the energy to keep streaming down their faces in bursts. They could still see Grieves striding forwards and grabbing the sword from Supervillain’s hands.

If Hero… if Hero never got caught then Superhero would be— they’d—

Villain dragged them up on stage and kept them by his side this time, letting Supervillain take centre stage. Grieves stood on the other side of the stage, next to Crow and the other boy from before who looked a little paler now, a little less relaxed.

“Superhero is dead. The heroes are scattered. We won!” Supervillain yelled. The shouts and cries of joy and laughter, the stomping and clapping and hollering and whistling, all of it sounded so far away to Hero who just sat staring at stage in front of them. They lost.

They actually… lost.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. The good guys were supposed to win! The good guys won in every book and movie and— it can’t end like this? With Superhero dead, Hero on their knees immobile. Surely, surely someone else will come? Surely… Teleport? Or Medic? Or… or… Hero’s hands balled into fists as a fresh wave of sobs overtook their body.

It was pathetic and childish, and so, so tone deaf to the imminent life altering moment that was before them, but all they wanted in that moment was Vigilante. He’d know what to do. He’d hold them and hug them close and tell them everything would be alright.

Hero wanted them, longed for them, with every ounce of their soul. The grief was like a quilt, dulling their senses and making everything quiet, everything except that ache for the one person they loved; the one person who loved them most. The person they’ll probably never see again.

“The time has finally come for a world where we don’t have to hide our powers, where we can walk free from the shadows. Where the powerless will know who we are, and not fear us, but respect us.” Supervillain continued. He spread his arms and indicated the crowd to quiet down. “I know I promised a world where we would rule, but if I make that world then this cycle of violence will start again.”

Hero looked up, eyes on Supervillain as he spoke. What? Did Supervillain actually want peace all this time?

“I can see your faces, but fret not, friends. We will all be on the right side of history, and it will be the Heroes who suffer in the new world!”

Another burst of claps and cheers. Supervillain turned and gestured at the boy on the other side of the stage. Crow walked the boy up to Supervillain who smiled encouragingly. The boy couldn’t have been older than sixteen, dressed in a black hoodie and jeans. He glanced over his shoulder at Hero who stared at him, too tired to offer any compassion.

“I want to thank each and every one of you here for helping us win this war, forging a new world order, know you will have my gratitude eternally.” Supervillain grabbed the boy’s hand and Hero felt the pull of power at the contact.

Their eyes widened and their stomach drooped. “No,” they breathed. Hero tried to push against Villain’s hold but Villain tightened the collar of shadows around Hero’s throat and squeezed. “No! Get back!”

But their warning was lost in the sound of cheers and applause. That boy… he must be some kind of magnifier, extending Supervillain’s reach of his power but how far Hero didn’t know.

A ball of light erupted from Supervillain and the boy, burning so bright that Hero had to turn their face away to shield themselves from the glare and the light was warm, pleasantly so, and it seemed to get closer and closer Hero. They heard bodies drop around them and people’s cries of surprise and fear and then nothing but a single, searing ringing that echoed everywhere; so loud and clear it was as if Supervillain had dropped a bomb on the battlefield and all that was left was silence and bright, white light, and that ringing.

Hero woke up in the light, stretching for miles around until it was out of sight, encompassing everything. The sky, the horizon, the earth, the ground, nothing was safe from its entombment.

Hero walked along the white ground, footsteps repeating coldly back to Hero’s ears, Villain’s whip and the shadows no longer a concern. Their hands were free. They reached up to touch their face but it was still flakey with blood from the battle, and Hero was in their same clothes. Hero frowned down at their hands.

“Confused?”

Hero whirled, eyes wide as they settled on Supervillain grinning in front of them. He stood casually, one hand in his pocket, his head tilted to the side, icy eyes focused on Hero.

His voice echoed off the expanse of emptiness. “What did you do?”

Supervillain let out a pleased sigh. “I changed the world Hero,” he said. “All I wanted was for the powerful and the powerless to live in harmony with each other. I didn’t want all the bloodshed.”

“You’re a liar.”

“Believe what you want,” he replied with a shrug. He started towards Hero, and Hero braced themselves, lowering their centre of gravity, ready for a blow, but Supervillain just put a hand on Hero’s shoulder. Hero stiffened, straightening. Supervillain’s eyes were sympathetic and kind. “It doesn’t matter anymore now. I won, Hero, and I’m finally ready for you to see my new world.”

Hero blinked. “What?”

Supervillain continued walking past Hero, and Hero turned to follow them. “I had you in stasis for a few months,” Supervillain said. Hero paused, frowning, and the expanse wasn’t just white anymore. There was a black dot faraway that Supervillain was walking towards, leading them towards. “Just while I crafted the new world to my liking.”

“What!” Hero demanded, panic gripping their chest. “But you just— we were just at the stage, at the—”

“Heroes Guild?” Supervillain asked with a chuckle, shaking his head almost fondly. “That was months ago now, Hero. Or was it a year?”

A year.

A year?

Supervillain looked over his shoulder, blue eyes capturing Hero’s in his. “Grieves kept you alive here. I didn’t want you to suffer so I asked him to make sure you wouldn’t remember anything until I was ready to release you.”

Hero swallowed the lump in their throat. Supervillain was beside the black dot now, but it was a door. How did they get here so fast? When were they moving? Wasn’t Hero standing still? Hero’s frowned deepened.

Hero shook their head. “I don’t want to go. I— leave me here, please. Leave me so I don’t remember anything.”

Supervillain shook his head sadly. “I want you to see my new world, Hero. See what you fought so hard to stop, see that the fighting wasn’t worth it at all.”

The door was open. Supervillain was stepping through. “No! No!” Hero protested as Supervillain grabbed Hero’s wrist and dragged them through the open door into more whiteness. “No! Leave me! Leave me here! Please!”

Hero woke gasping, shooting straight up in their bed and clutching at the sweat soaked sheets. Their eyes darted around the room, looking for Supervillain, but they didn’t have to look far. Hero skittered back on the bed, shivering as they stared at Supervillain’s icy, smiling eyes.

“Hello Hero,” he said with his friendly voice. Hero swallowed, their eyes shooting to the door but there Grieves stood, glare fixed on Hero.

“Sleeping beauty finally awakes,” Grieves grumbled. Hero gasped, their chest beating in fretful staccatos, jumping and falling and plunging and pushing.

It’s a nightmare. This is just a nightmare and Hero will wake up and they’ll— they’ll—

Superhero’s face flashed behind Hero’s eyes. Hero’s eyes blew wide and they lunged forward, gripping the edge of the bed and threw up everything in their stomach which wasn’t much. Mostly bile and water.

They heard Grieves moan in disgust distantly as Hero shuddered, another wave of warmth climbing their throat as the battle came back to them in terrifying, vivid clarity.

The war… Vigilante… Teleport… they had lost. They— they lost, and Supervillain— a hand on their back and Hero flinched but they couldn’t move, afraid that if they did it would anger their stomach again and they didn’t want to throw up on the bed.

“That’s it, Hero,” Supervillain said warmly. “Get it out.”

Hero couldn’t reply before they were getting sick again, and then, somehow, they knew they were finished. They wiped their mouth with the back of their hand and sat up, shaking. Supervillain smiled at them.

“Here, sip some water. I’ll get someone to clean that up.” Supervillain said, pushing a glass to Hero’s lips. Hero blinked rapidly, steadying the glass with their two hands and tentatively taking a sip. The water was cool going down their throat, and pleasant. It washed away the taste of bile and acid and Hero wanted to swallow the whole thing, but Supervillain pulled the glass away. “Easy, Hero. If you gulp it down you’ll just throw it up,” he told them.

Hero sat back away from Supervillain’s outstretched hands, away from the water and glared at him.

“Come now, Hero. You could hurt my feelings with that look.”

“I will kill you,” Hero promised, their voice croaking from disuse, but the words were heavy, weighted with a vow that Hero would follow until their dying day. Or until Supervillain’s, whichever came first. Supervillain chuckled and leaned away, setting the glass of water on the table beside the bed.

“You can try,” Supervillain said with a shrug, crossing one leg over the other and clasping his hands on his thighs. Comfortable. Relaxed. As if Hero wasn’t a threat like this.

Because you’re not.

As if they were two friends catching up on lost time. Hero was new to Supervillain’s changed world. They didn’t even know what he did, let alone what his power was. This new world he promised, Hero wouldn’t be able to navigate it properly if he didn’t show them around. All they knew was that Supervillain killed Superhero and Hero would kill him for it.

Eventually.

After a brief adjustment period.

“No?” Supervillain asked, dipping his head to catch Hero’s eyes again. Hero swallowed the dryness in their throat. “Well then, perhaps we can have breakfast together. I can show you around.”

“How lo—” Hero’s voice broke and they coughed, trying to clear the clog. Supervillain grabbed the glass of water off the table and reached it towards Hero. Hero shook their head initially, but their throat was raw, burning and they took the glass from his hands. They almost dropped it immediately, and would have too, if not for Supervillain’s hand catching the bottom on his open palm.

“Sip,” Supervillain said, scoldingly. Hero gripped the glass with two shaky hands. They continued coughing and they couldn’t lift the glass from Supervillain’s hand, so Supervillain moved leaning forwards as Hero hacked. He was beside them in the bed, a hand on the back of Hero’s neck, cool and clammy against Hero’s burning skin and Hero hated how good it felt.

Hero leaned in and sipped some of the water. It settled the burning slightly and all too quickly Supervillain pulled away. Hero cleared their throat as best as they could, and Supervillain waited, patiently, until Hero nodded and Supervillain brought the glass back to Hero’s lips and they repeated the process.

They felt disgusting having their enemy so close to them, having to need his help to fucking drink water because their body was weak. Their muscles atrophied.

“Enough?” Supervillain asked and Hero nodded. Supervillain’s thumb ran over the back of Hero’s neck. “Good.”

He moved on the bed, getting off and letting his contact with Hero drop which Hero was grateful for. Their body was exhausted from that little exertion. They leaned back against the wall and watched as Supervillain placed the glass on the table again.

“How long?” Hero asked, their voice a little stronger than before. Supervillain smiled a little, as if Hero told a stupid joke.

“It’s coming up to the year anniversary since the world changed.”

The confirmation hit them like a train to the chest, like a bowling ball was dropped from the empire state building into their stomach from their ribs, far too heavy and crushing to comprehend.

“What?” Hero asked with a breath, tears pinpricking the backs of their eyes. “You left me in stasis for a—” they swallowed back a sob, “a year?”

Supervillain shrugged, turning his back to Hero and walking to the wardrobe beside the door. “It was necessary, Hero. I needed to solidify my hold on the world, make sure the memory was ingrained deep enough that it would take, and work to destroy records and such.” Supervillain continued, hangers clanging together as he looked through the clothes.

Hero swallowed. Was their brain slow or was Supervillain talking nonsense? “What do you mean ‘make sure the memory was ingrained?’ What did you do?”

Supervillain paused in his movements. He cast a glance back at Hero who was barely hanging onto their threads of consciousness and he started to laugh. Hero wished he were dead in that moment. They longed to grab their swords and spear them through his stupid throat and his lungs, and keep stabbing until he stopped breathing.

“Oh, Hero. I completely forgot. I never did tell you my power, did I?”

Hero blinked at him. They wouldn’t give Supervillain a show. They refused.

Supervillain smiled and turned to face Hero, two hangers with clothes in his hands. His smile was wide and dashing, and pleased and friendly. “I have the ability to alter memories.”

Hero stared. “What?”

Supervillain continued towards Hero, laying the clothes out on the bed. A hoodie and a tracksuit. Neither of which were particularly interesting to Hero at that moment. Supervillain set the clothes down and sat down on his chair again beside Hero’s bed.

“I altered the world’s memories of Heroes and Villains, of powers and the powerless. I made it normal for some people to be born with powers, and didn’t try and hide it from the world like Superhero wanted.” Supervillain said, his eyes glinting with corrupt pleasure, like he was enjoying seeing Hero’s entire world shatter on their face.

“And you know what, Hero?” He said leaning in. “Nobody batted an eye about it.”

“No fucking shit!” Hero seethed, leaning forwards despite their body groaning at them for the effort. “You altered their memories so they wouldn’t bat an eye about it, you dick!” Supervillain chuckled. It chilled Hero to the core.

“No, Hero,” he said softly, shaking his head. “You don’t understand. It’s hard to implement memories that people don’t already want to accept. Well, granted, it’s harder but still do-able. Although, you’ll be happy to know that Superhero’s idea of revealing powered individuals while maintaining their secret identities, made it an easier pill to swallow.”

Hero glared at him, clenching their teeth to stop themselves from screaming, their fingers curling into fists by their sides.

“You can’t just make the everyone forget about our past! The war, the heroes—”

“Oh, yes I can, Hero. Not alone. That’s what the amplifier was for.”

Hero frowned. Amplifier? Their mind scratched back to yesterday— no… it wasn’t yesterday. It was only yesterday to them. But Hero remembered when Supervillain was on stage, Villain keeping Hero on their knees at the back and the— “the boy.”

“Yes. The boy. We had to look high and low to find him, but find him we did. Everything had to go to plan otherwise the war would be for nothing.”

“Why would he help you?” Hero demanded.

Supervillain leaned back into his seat. “Because he wanted to protect his family from it.”

The two of them fell silent. Hero was struggling to fight back tears at Supervillain’s casualness. They wished they believed that Supervillain was lying. They wished they could hope that he was, but Hero knew. They knew that Supervillain was telling the truth, and that fact was attempting to swallow them whole.

“Did you protect them?” Hero whispered.

“I did.” And Hero knew that was true too. It didn’t make them feel better about it. “But that’s not the important thing I want to show you, Hero,” Supervillain continued with a small smile. “I’m sure you’re wondering about what happened to the rest of your heroes, hmm?”

Hero’s heart lurched in their chest. No, they weren’t, and they were horrible for nothing thinking about them, but their mind was so focused on Vigilante, would he remember them? Would he still… would they still?… Fresh tears pricked Hero’s eyes, both from guilt and an overwhelming amount of pain at Vigilante’s possible altered state.

Could Supervillain make him forget about their relationship? Their love? Icy eyes drank in Hero’s obvious hurt and helpless grief. He couldn’t imagine waking up after a year and being told the world has changed.

“Please…” Hero whispered, tears falling down their cheeks as they raised their head. “Please make me forget.”

“No,” Supervillain said softly. Hero fisted their hands in the bedsheets.

“Why?!”

“Because Hero, I need someone who doesn’t agree with me to keep me in check.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you murdered Superhero!” Hero seethed. Supervillain’s expression darkened.

“Hmph, yes. Well, Superhero would be far too meddlesome. He would have found a way to undo all my work.”

“And I won’t?”

Supervillain smiled. “No, Hero. You won’t. I have you tangled in a web that you don’t even realise yet. But, don’t worry, I am willing to show you. As soon as you are dressed.”

Hero glared at him. They weren’t ready to see the new world. They didn’t want to go with Supervillain.

“Can’t you put me back in stasis?” Hero asked, their voice a harsh, breathy wish. Supervillain’s smile turned sad. Hero swallowed the lump in their throat, their nostrils flaring as their eyes drifted to the stupid, ugly tracksuit bottoms and hoodie.

“I want a shower.”

“You can have a shower.” Hero nodded. “I had a wet chair placed in the shower for you. I don’t want you fainting on me.”

The forethought that Supervillain had put into Hero’s awakening turned their stomach. Why had he thought of everything? Considered every possible discomfort and ensured Hero wouldn’t feel it? How long had he been planning this?

“Are you ready?” Supervillain asked, standing and extending his hand to Hero. Hero didn’t look at him, didn’t reply, but they grabbed his hand and let him help them towards a door in the corner of the room. He opened it and helped Hero in, and Hero didn’t apologise or care that much that they were leaning all of their weight on Supervillain. Their legs were numb and unused to carrying the load of their torso.

Hero saw the chair eventually, alert eyes scanning the shower, searching for a razor or something g that would let them hurt themselves but of course, there was nothing. Hero shrugged the thought away mentally, they could always slam their head against the ground until they were dead.

Supervillain set them down in the chair. “I won’t insult you by staying, so I have made a couple other safety measures.”

Supervillain pulled a pair of cuffs from his pockets and Hero recoiled, but their body was too slow and weak to respond, to fight against Supervillain as he cuffed their left arm to the right arm rest of the chair. He did the same with Hero’s ankles and Hero didn’t fight him anymore. They didn’t have the energy to fight a battle they knew they wouldn’t win.

“How will I take my clothes off genius?” Supervillain smiled. He held up a scissors and Hero rolled their eyes. “Of course.”

“I won’t look,” Supervillain said kindly, as if that made a difference. As if it would be less humiliating for him to cuff them and cut their clothes just enough so Hero could shimmy out of them in their current state with only one hand free.

“I can’t do anything like this,” Hero said through clenched teeth.

“You needn’t worry, Hero. Grieves made sure you were clean, he let you do the essentials like drink water and use the toilet.”

“Couldn’t have let me eat during that time, no?”

Supervillain dipped his chin back. “You and I both know how resourceful you are. What if you accidentally brushed Grieves and his power failed? You will be fine with just this for today. You’ll understand more about your time in stasis later, but you can rest assured, you’re not dirty.”

With that Supervillain turned the water on and left. It was refreshingly warm, not too hot or cold. Just enough that it returned some heat to Hero’s body that seemed to be seeping from every pore. Slowly they removed the shirt, which was hanging only by the loop of the collar, up and over their head and let the water touch their bare skin.

They sat in the water motionless for they didn’t know how long, long enough for their fingers to prune and only then did they open their eyes. A shelf was near their left hand and on it some shampoo and conditioner and soap. Hero rubbed it everywhere, too tired to try and fight to take off their trousers, they just slipped the soap bar underneath and scrubbed until their skin was red raw.

A knock at the door after Hero was done. “Are you finished?”

Hero thought about not answering him. “Hero?”

“Yes.”

Supervillain walked in and turned off the tap, his eyes closed and wrapped the towel around Hero’s chest. Hero wrapped it further, and told him it was okay to look when their modesty was satisfied. Supervillain unlocked their cuffs and escorted the dripping Hero back to their bed, the towel wrapped firmly around them now. It was soft, white and fluffy.

“I already laid out your clothes. I’ll turn around,” Supervillain said once Hero was sitting on their bed again.

“I assume you can’t make yourself new memories.”

“In the same way I doubt you can negate your own abilities, no. Why?”

Hero picked up the tracksuit, their nose scrunching with disgust. “Shame you can’t just make yourself memories of being stylish.”

Supervillain laughed. Hero glared at his back as they pulled on the half zip hoodie. “Of all the things you have to be angry at me for, Hero. I didn’t think fashion would factor into it.”

“Don’t worry,” Hero answered, yanking their trackies up their legs and tying the drawstring. They were annoyingly comfortable and soft. “I have plenty of anger to go around. And fashion always comes into it.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Do I get shoes?”

“Are you finished?” Supervillain asked. Hero half expected him to turn but he didn’t until Hero said, yeah, I’m done.

“You won’t need shoes for the time being.”

Hero stared at him. “Do you seriously think I’m in any state to run away?”

“Hero,” he said, gently scolding. A tone that set Hero’s teeth on edge. “You can’t even stand up by yourself. I have a wheelchair for you.”

Hero paused, frown drawing their features down. “I am not going around in a wheelchair!”

“It’s either that or I carry you like a child, Hero. It’s your choice.” Supervillain shot them a look and Hero glared back. They didn’t need a wheelchair. They could— Hero could stand up on their own! And they would fucking prove it.

Hero didn’t break eye contact as they grabbed the headboard of the bed and pushed themselves up to shaky feet. Supervillain watched them, saw their shaking muscles and weak legs and their determination as they took a step.

Their ankle folded and Hero almost fell but they caught themselves and let out a startled: “wait!” to stop Supervillain from swooping in and saving them from falling flat on their face. Hero swallowed and pushed themselves back up, sweating from the effort as they pulled themselves to their full height, wobbling only slightly as they lifted their burning gaze to meet Supervillain’s.

“See? I’m fine.”

“I’ll carry you then,” Supervillain said with a shrug, starting towards them. “It makes no difference to me. I just thought you’d want to retain some semblance of dignity.”

Hero backed up. Fear immediately wiping away the determination from before and Hero stumbled back, falling onto the bed and kicking up a leg to keep Supervillain back but he kept coming.

“OKAY! OKAY! Fine! I’ll— the wheelchair,” they said, trying to smother their panic with rage. They hadn’t felt this weak in… well, ever, and it scared them more than Supervillain did. “I’ll take the wheelchair.”

As if on cue there came a knock on the door. Supervillain straightened with his chilling, friendly smile, his eyes twinkling with an awful knowing that turned Hero’s stomach.

“Enter.”

The door opened and a wheelchair rolled through. Supervillain stepped out of Hero’s line of sight so they could get a full view of the door as Grieves walked through, grinning at Hero, followed by a familiar head of jet black hair.

“Medic?” Hero whispered, surprised they could get that word together with the lack of oxygen in their chest. Medic looked at Hero and no recognition flashed across his face. He was wearing an apron, with a bucket and a mop. His eyes narrowed when he saw Hero.

“Who are you?”

“Medic,” Grieves chastised and Medic winced. Grieves turned and placed a hand on Medic’s shoulder. “Don’t be rude.”

“Don’t touch him!” Hero growled, shooting to their feet. The world swam and they grabbed the headboard for support, but Supervillain caught them and started pulling them away, towards the wheelchair.

Medic’s eyes turned quizzical as they caught Hero’s, frowning as Supervillain turned Hero and shoved them into the chair. Hero’s lips curled back into a snarl, about to curse Supervillain out of it when Supervillain shot them a look, his icy eyes freezing Hero in their defiance.

“Would you like the same treatment as the shower or will you behave?”

“You’re a fucking monster,” Hero spat, tears welling up on their lower lids, blurring edges into colours and shapes. Supervillain didn’t move, his expression didn’t change.

“Will you behave?”

Hero grabbed the arm rests of the wheelchair, arms shaking from their white knuckled grip. They couldn’t answer, not verbally, so they nodded stiffly. Once up and once down, almost imperceptible, but Supervillain saw.

“Good,” he said, and Hero could hear the smile in his voice. Medic walked past Hero towards the vomit by the bed and set the bucket down, dunking the mop in. That’s all Hero saw before Supervillain turned their chair.

Grieves was by the door, arms behind his back, a grin on his papery face. Hero glared at him as Supervillain wheeled them out the door, their face flooding with shame. Only when they saw that the hallway was empty did they let the helpless tears fall.

Hero would right this, they vowed.

They would fix everything. They’d kill Supervillain and Grieves, and Villain and all other villains that were conscious to the change— the ones that remembered the old world — but first, they needed to get their strength back.

They needed to learn how the new world worked. They had to play nice with Supervillain while they learned exactly what this world they had woken to was. What a world looked like in Supervillain’s image.

If Grieves had Medic, he probably had Teleport too, but Hero couldn’t know until they saw her with him. And if Grieves had them, then Villain probably had…

Hero swallowed. Surely Vigilante would remember them? Medic and Hero were friends, but— but isn’t love supposed to survive every trial? Hero stared at their knees dejectedly. If Supervillain wiped everyone’s minds… nobody, none of the heroes or Hero’s friends would remember who they are. They’d just think Hero’s another of Supervillain’s generals.

“Does anyone remember me?” Hero asked. Their voice came out so quiet that even Hero wondered if they had asked a question out loud at all.

“No,” Supervillain replied, just as gentle as before. “Superhero is a villain in their eyes, the darkest days of our lives, so I wouldn’t try and cosy up to them by throwing his name around either.”

Hero sucked in a breath. “Did you enslave every hero?”

Supervillain chuckled. “Not all of them. My generals got their first picks. You can guess who Grieves chose.”

Hero clenched their jaw. “You did that on purpose.”

“I did.”

“Why?!” Hero demanded, slamming their palm on the arm rest of the wheelchair.

There was a pause. Supervillain stopped walking. Hero’s heart thumped loud in their chest. They felt Supervillain remove his hands from the chair, and he walked around to the front of Hero. Hero refused to look at him, but it didn’t matter. Supervillain tilted Hero’s chin up with the pads of his index and middle finger, until Hero’s eyes met piercing blue.

“I want you to acclimatise to your new life quickly Hero. Superhero would have run around and tried to form connections and rally his friends in vain to revolt against me. I want you to know that that idea will not be tolerated.” Hero felt their eyes burn with hot, frustrated tears that they refused to let fall. “And it won’t be you who is punished for your insolence.”

Supervillain leaned down, his hands going to the armrests of the chair, fingers wrapping around Hero’s wrists and pinning them as Hero shrunk back in the chair. Supervillain stopped a hair’s breath away from Hero’s face.

“It will be your friends. Medic and Teleport, and the little traitor Vigilante.” Hero struggled against Supervillain’s grip in vain, their blood rushing like a waterfall in their ears, deafening. “And I’ll make you watch as they are hurt for your petty defiance. Do I make myself clear, Hero?”

Hero was shaking. Their lips shut resolutely. Supervillain squeezed their wrists in warning. “Hero.”

“Yes.” Hero hissed. Supervillain smiled, leaning back. Hero swallowed the lump in their throat, grabbing their wrists and putting them in their lap when Supervillain pulled away.

“Good,” he said, chipper and happy. His mood changing as suddenly as a day became a year for Hero. “Let’s get some breakfast then. All this excitement has me working up an appetite,” he said, and he was pushing Hero’s wheelchair through the halls again, as if he didn’t threaten everyone Hero loved.

Everyone Hero loved. People who didn’t remember them anymore. The only person they had vaguely on their side right now was Supervillain, much to their chagrin, but that’s the way it was and would be until Hero was strong enough to fight back.

First, breakfast.

Then they could figure out a plan.

Find Vigilante and they could fall in love all over again, if that’s what it takes… Hero was ready to abandon being a hero during the war for Vigilante, they could do it again now. Stop being a hero and just find Vigilante and be happy.

It would be what Supervillain wanted. What Supervillain asked of them; Not to be an upstart like Superhero, not to fight back futilely. Hero closed their eyes and let Supervillain push them through unfamiliar halls.

They could do this. They would survive this.

End of Arc 1

*~*~*~*~*

Orphanage roll-call: @micechomper @aarika-merrill @silentpotat0 @dutifullykrispyland @gloriousqueen101

GUUUYYYYSSS!!!! It’s finally gotten to the part of the story where the title makes sense now~ hehe, also, would recommend for those that want little tidbits/sneak hints/easter eggs I would listen to Jann’s song Gladiator on Spotify for the clues to the next arc of the story

Thank you for reading my happy fic, I love you all so much cause this one’s special, my poor lil baby, Hero is all alone :( with only their nemesis for safety and comfort :(

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