Close Nemesis

Chapter Eleven: What Defines A Hero?

NYGYL:

I've survived yet another superhero battle. Now, I have to wait for the next one. Boredom pumps through my veins as I lean against the barred window of the dorm room, staring down into the foggy chasm. Sometimes, I slow down time without realizing, and that is probably why I am so impatient. When I slow down time, time is stretched out. If I wanted to, I could live forever.

 

"We'll...be...going...to...the...arena, very...shortly,"  Shenelda says in slow motion as she chomps on some food.

 

I resume time at its normal speed, and I turn to look at Shenelda. I point my dirty yellow claws at her, and she shrugs before turning away. She prances towards the old, vertical hinged door on the grey brick wall on her right, carrying her dark green metalwool superhero costume that looks more like a metal sweater than an actual outfit.

 

She smacks right into the middle of the wall, and falls down onto the soft red carpeted floor. Her body sinks into the fluffy floor, and Petara goes to help her up. However, I think that Petara is only doing so that he can feel the soft carpet that feels just like their bright green fur.

 

Shenelda takes Petara's furry hand, and leans on them for support. Then, she apologizes for being a burden on Petara, and leaves the room.

 

My face sinks into a frown. I wrongfully assumed yesterday that I would learn what Shenelda's powers would be. However, for most of the superhero battles, I was busy fending against other superheroes. I killed a few in my last battle, including a Namuhsolian with blue gelled hair who could envelope competitors in bubbles and telepathically lift them into the air. I've survived many battles due to my time manipulation powers, but one of these days, I'm gonna come across a superhero who is able to beat me.

 

Today, however, I'm not doing much. I don't really train when I'm not fighting in battles. I'm pretty much a slob. I slouch around in my dormitory most of the time, wearing a silver tank top and a pair of baggy golden shorts. As much as I like the entertainment the fort's tournament brings, I wish we were given freer reign. I mean, I understand why we don't get free reign. The fort's meant to keep us superheroes from escaping. If people escape the fort, they would be either killed or recaptured, depending on how kind the guards are. Rotcetorp is also often called in whenever someone tried to escape. Once again, the odds of staying alive depend on Rotcetorp's mood.

 

I don't plan on escaping, however. And even if I did, I wouldn't go through with it. Rotcetorp is known to many as the 'harbinger of death'. I don't know about everyone else, but I would certainly want to steer clear of someone like that.

 

I'm being so melodramatic. I'm a teen, for crying out loud.

 

I was apprehended on top of a water volcano by a cloaked superhero who wore a silver cape and hood. They possessed the ability to project lava from their fingertips, and the lava would've killed me had I not used my time manipulation powers to slow down time and rapidly cool the lava before it could touch me. I was an idiot back then. I didn't use my powers wisely. I should've just run away.

 

Before it could touch me, the lava had solidified into cool lava rock. Then, the superhero manipulated the cool lava rock so that it could cover me. He had powers similar to Rotcetorp. However, there was something different about him. He wore a similar mask, but there was something eviller about him.