May 31, 2000
The sound of the helicopter roam above the night sky, searching for something...or someone.
The alley reeked of trash and gasoline, it was a familiar scent that clung to the air and the damp.
In that same area comes the hero and the villain exchanging blows, their footsteps splashing through the puddles. The hero was fast but the villain was calculated. As the battle got more intense, the hero tried to push his limits...in which makes this villain smirked, as he dodged and countered his attacks. In a swift maneuver, the villain knocked him to the ground.
"You've always been predictable," The villain catches his breath as he pulls out his gun.
The hero's eyes widened as he realized the consequences of his actions.
"You call it a massacre? I call it rebirth. You cannot build a masterpiece on a foundation of garbage," The villain pointed the gun at him.
"This is where it all ends for you, hero," The villain pulled the trigger and then...
BEEP BEEP BEEP
"What's that sound?" The hero kept his eyes closed, he heard the strange noise and wondered, "Am I dead?"
He opened his eyes, gasped, as sees a bullet frozen in time, right in front of his face.
"What the?" he moves away from the motionless bullet and it seems like the villain is motionless as well. The hero looked toward the alley entrance, where the cars were also at standstill. "What is happening...?"
Without warning, the world seemed to change. The dull colors of the alley sparked into a vibrant yellow color and the dim evening light was replaced by a harsh glare of a new morning.
BEEP BEEP BEEP
"....Hmm...Ughhhh..." His alarm clock woke him up. Maybe it was the dream he had, but he felt his heart racing, or maybe because his older sister would reprimand him any second now.
Hiro rubbed his eyes as he looked at his messy room: scattered clothes, a half eaten snack, and a shelf full of novels and superhero comics, a complete geek.
"Hiro!" There it was, the expectation became a reality. From the room across the hall, his older sister called him. "I know I've told you this before, but get up early, not thirty minutes before class!"
"Now, now, there's no need to worry." Their mom heard her daughter's voice.
He scrambled for his school uniform in the closet, snatching a bath towel on the way to the bathroom. He took the fastest shower of his life, threw on his uniform, and bolted to the dining table.
"How's college?" His mother curious to how well her son is doing at a university.
"It's all good, I've been doing well."
A teasing smile spread across his sister's face, "Doing so well that you're prepared for your exam today?" She knew Hiro had forgotten to study. "Let me guess, you were either buried in books and comics or you spent the whole night playing video games."
Hiro avoided his sister's gaze and looked at his mother, who was clearly disappointed. He scratched the back of his head, "I actually did study... but I can't be certain I'm prepared."
His sister's smile softened slightly, there's a glimmer of concern despite the teasing facade, "I see, well, goodluck on your exam," She truly cared for her younger brother despite the playful banter.
"I hope you pass and don't forget to pray." Hiro's mother smiled.
Hiro said his goodbyes, preparing to face the test he had neglected to study.
In a last-ditch effort while on the bus, he texted his classmates in their group chat requesting study materials for a quick review, but by the time someone finally responded, he had already arrived at the campus gate.
Hiro immediately opened the online reviewer and quickly skim the whole notes, he's not even sure if he could memorize this in under, "F*ck, there's only five minutes left before the first exam."
A cold sweat began to show on his palms, he can't afford to fail this one, this is his favorite course in his program and not only would it be disappointing for the professor but for him as well. An aspiring writer, reading a lot of novels and comics, idolizing the main characters with a characteristic of heroism and being triumphant to all those villains in the story.
Arriving at the classroom door, Hiro felt the immediate weight of everyone's gaze as he was the last to enter. He was only five minutes late and he can't believe all of his classmates are this punctual. It doesn't help that everyone's eyes were piercing through his soul.
Taking a seat at the back of the room, Hiro listened as the instructor outlined the guidelines and procedures for the upcoming exam.
Moments later, the exam finally started, "I'm f*cked," and it's evident that Hiro is struggling to answer even to the most basic questions. He was sweating on his forehead, having no idea on how to answer these problems.
A bead of sweat traced a path down Hiro's temple, threatening to sting his eye. He scrubbed it away before that would happen but the moment he opened his eyes, the world changed, atleast to how he sees it.
Suddenly, Hiro's vision constricted to a stark duality of yellow and gray. His classmates and the instructor appeared in muted shades of gray, while the inanimate objects around him: the door, windows, and chairs radiated a bright, glossy yellow.
His heart pounded. A strange tingling sensation crept up the back of his neck, making him dizzy. The vibrant colors seemed to hum, pulling his focus in every direction. He stumbled, gripping the edge of a desk to steady himself before anyone noticed. At the same time, a faint, rhythmic melody drifted into his ears. Hiro's only instinct was to shut his eyes tight, silently pleading, "Just go back to normal, please!"
When he opened them the world was once again familiar: the black television screen, the white walls, and a vibrant green of the nature scenery outside the classroom windows.
"What was that?" He wondered and looked back at his test papers that seemed...easy?
"Wait what, the answer to this question is this..." He encircled the right option in the multiple choice questions. Filled the correct answers in the blank statements without problem. Even the essay portion, which presented a literary concept entirely unfamiliar to him moments before, flowed easily as he articulated his thoughts and interpretations without hesitation.
It felt as if he downloaded an entire library of information all at once. The lessons he had struggled with for the past months, now, it became effortless for him.
He looked at his classmates and they weren't still in the essay part of the paper. They seemed to struggle even though he genuinely knows that they were smarter than him.
Hiro was nervous but he definitely knew that the answers that he encircled and wrote were correct.
'It must have been the reviewer,' Hiro thought, 'but there's absolutely no way I could have memorized all that information while rushing to campus.' He couldn't fathom how he suddenly knew everything in those notes within a mere five minutes, yet there was no other logical explanation other than that.
As the clock ticked, the heavy silence of the lecture hall was shattered. The door suddenly sprang open, the hinges were kicked off by three henchmen in a tactical gear as they stormed the classroom. They immediately fired a round into the ceiling, screams of Hiro's classmates could be heard, people from other classrooms started to evacuate from what is presumed as a terrorist attack.
"Everyone on the floor, now!"
In the frantic scramble, a student near the front, Hiro's friend, wasn't fast enough. A henchman lunged, slamming the butt of a rifle into his temple. blood sprayed across the white tiles. A girl, tried to crawl toward the exit, only to be trampled as the intruders corralled the students into the center of the room.
Hiro froze, his vision flickered violently from seeing the henchmen in a shade of red to his vision going back to normal again. The rhythmic melody in his ears turned into a high-pitched siren.
"Which one of you gains an abnormal eyesight?" the leader's eyes scanning the terrified faces. He marched toward the back row, his gloved hand reaching for Hiro's collar. "The Architect wants a word with you, kid."
"I don't know what you're talking about-" Hiro pleaded to break free from the henchmen's hold on his collar. Hiro was paralyzed, trapped between the trauma of seeing his friends bleeding and the sensory overload of his new eyes. Just as the henchman's hand closed around his shirt, the window behind Hiro exploded inward.
A blur of motion faster than any human should be tumbled into the room. Before the henchmen could pivot their weapons, a man in casual clothes delivered a devastating roundhouse kick to the leader's head, sending him flying across the desks.
"Target identified," a voice crackled from the henchmen's radios.
"Target protected," the newcomer countered. With lethal precision, he disarmed the remaining two men and knocked them out. He grabbed Hiro by the arm, hoisting him up.
"Go! Get the medics!" He shouted to the instructor, who was cowering behind the podium.
He didn't wait. He dragged a shell-shocked Hiro out through the shattered window and into the alleyway, just as sirens began to wail in the distance.
"Do I know you?" Hiro managed to stammer, his heart hammering against his ribs as he looked back at the school where his classmates lay injured.
"Well, you don't, heck, even I don't know you but I know that you have it," His voice a slight drawl despite the adrenaline of the fight.
"I have what exactly?" Hiro tried to channel his inner detective personality, but his hands wouldn't stop shaking.
He blinked, and his pupils turned into a glowing, vivid yellow in the shape of a ring.
"What the f*ck?" Hiro gasped, stumbling back.
"You somehow got this today, didn't you?"
Hiro remembered the exam, the frozen bullet in his dream, and the strange eyesight. "I think so... Wait, what do you know about this? How did you figure out it's me? And who were those guys?"
"One question at a time, kid. You're not ready for the whole truth just yet."
"Okay, but how did you know it was me?"
"Let's just say I've got my ways. I'm sorry to say this, but you already became a superhuman the moment you have this eyesight. And those guys? They work for someone who is trying to take control of this city."
Hiro looked at his hands, then back at the school. The sight of his friend on the floor wouldn't leave him. A hard knot of motivation began to form in his chest. "Wait, a superhuman?"
Max smirked with his narrowed eyes. "Yes, superhumans like the heroes you read in the comics."
"What's your name, by the way?"
"Max, Max Westley." He extended his hand. The weariness in his eyes was evident, but there's also a flicker of enthusiasm in him as if he was optimistic about this kid.
Hiro accepted it, his grip firm. "My name's Hiro. I sure hope you're a good guy, Mr. Westley."
"Trust me, I am. I'm also your recruiter for the agency."
"Are you taking me somewhere? Those guys might come back for my family."
Max's expression shifted from weary to dead serious. He reached out, placing a heavy, grounding hand on Hiro's shoulder, his yellow-ringed eyes locking onto Hiro's trembling gaze.
"Yes, those guys weren't just random thugs. They were underlings. If they've marked you, they've marked your life, Hiro. I already have a security detail moving toward your neighborhood to pull a silent watch on your house, your family will be safe."
Max gestured toward a black sedan idling at the end of the alleyway. "But you? You're the primary target. Get in the car."
Hiro stumbled slightly, his legs still feeling like lead as the adrenaline began to crash. Max caught his elbow and helped him into the passenger seat.
As Max slid into the driver's side and fired up the engine. He peeled away from the curb, weaving through the morning traffic with a calculated aggression.
"Where are we going?" Hiro asked, pressing his forehead against the cool glass of the window.
Max' eyes constantly darting to the rearview mirror. "The agency. It's time you start meeting them."
Hiro looked down at his hands, "I don't feel like a hero. I feel like I'm about to throw up."
Max offered a grim, knowing smirk. "That's the most honest 'superhuman' thing I've heard all day. Hold on, kid."
Hiro raises his first question earlier that was ignored, "What do you know about all of this?"
"I was in the same position you are in, kid. I was a hero eight years ago."
"Does it happen annually?"
"Semi-annually, I was in the second batch of 1992."
"So am I in the first or second batch of this year?"
"First. You know, I used to think the person who recruited me to the agency was out of their mind but it's genuine, kid. You're one of the superhumans in charge of protecting this city."
"Why me though?"
"Some say it's the gods calling, but based on my experience there's no telling why someone is chosen to become a superhuman. So, I can't answer your question. Maybe the gods saw something in you but don't take my word for it."
"Are you ready meeting the others? There's a total of sixteen superhumans in this batch."
Hiro straightened his posture trying to show that his calm although he's anxious inside, "I guess so, but fifteen other people? That's a lot of new faces."
Max chuckled, "Just think of it as a team, you know like the Teen Titans or whatever the squad of superheroes in those comics are."
Few minutes later the agency is visible to their eyes, its large glass windows reflecting the sunlight yet inside, it felt eerily abandoned.
"They're trying to be discreet?"
"For sure, our identities are kept as a secret outside of our realm."
Max parked the car and they stepped out, Hiro took a deep breath. They walked down the entrance, the large double doors swinging open to reveal a futuristic looking lobby.
"Welcome to our headquarters, the other superhumans are gathered in the grand hall," The receptionist of the lobby pointed to the right hallway.
Max and Hiro walked their way down a corridor lined with training rooms and dorm rooms. As they reached the grand hall, Hiro saw the others although they were still incomplete. There were twelve pairs present when he arrived.
"That makes me the thirteenth to arrive then?"
Max simply nods as they wait for the last three to arrive.
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The room didn't just lack light; it felt as though the air itself had been murdered, replaced by a suffocating, predatory silence. Then, the rhythm of a single footstep cracked through the void: slow, heavy, and deliberate, like the ticking of a clock.
Beneath the flicker of dying monitors, a massive table groaned under the weight of blueprints that weren't just designs; they were schematics for a massacre. The man standing over them, draped in a suit so bright it felt like a mockery of the darkness, didn't just look at his plans, he savored them. He was the Architect, and he was currently redesigning the city's grave.
A gloved finger traced the outline of an abandoned building, his touch lingering like a physical curse. "How quaint," his voice a jagged blade of contempt. "To think they believed such a pathetic place could hide them from me." A smile curled across his lips not of joy, but of a sick, twisted hunger.
"Sixteen new little sh*ts," he murmured, "They actually believe they can change the world. They think they're the heroes of this city."
He turned to the massive screen behind him, his eyes scanning the profiles until they locked onto Hiro Naito. He let out a low, guttural hum. "And here is Max's newest pet. The perfect target to tear apart."
The Architect turned, his silhouette cutting a jagged hole into the dim light. "We won't just capture them. We will break them. One...by...one, they will learn to crawl at my feet and worship the vision I've built for their ruins."
From the bleeding shadows, two nightmares took form. Blood, his eye glowing through a scope, and Soul Siphon, wrapped in a suffocating purple mist that seemed to drain the very warmth from the room.
"And if they resist?" Siphon's voice was a cold rasp, her cloak fluttering like a shroud.
The Architect's eyes gleamed with a freezing, calculated malice. "Then we will show them that defiance is just a slower way to die. They aren't just unprepared...they are useless."
He snapped his fingers. The world went pitch black, a void so total it felt like the end of time, before the screens exploded back to life. The Agency, the streets, the people all reduced to ash and screaming pixels.
"They will learn," he whispered, his voice rising into a hollow, chilling laugh that echoed long after the screens went dark, "that in this world, I am not just the arhitect, I am the God of their extinction."