You Were Never Meant to be a Hero (Quackbur Superhero AU)

Chapter 1: In The Arms of The Enemy

A glimpse into the future; Quackity catches his songbird. 

There was an old saying that Wilbur had read in a book once.

'You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain'.

It was an old quote, not used very frequently anymore. In a world where being a hero was a profession, you can probably tell why it wouldn't be used.

But the eldest child of the Minecraft family felt like the saying applied very well to his current situation.

The avian hero was perched on top of a low roof, his wings gently swaying in the breeze as he observed the part of the city he was debating on entering. There was a casino nearby, the sound of bouncy music cutting through the air in a low thrum. Wilbur couldn't help but tap out the beat of the song that was playing, a musician's habit.

This was Ace's side of town, or at least, it's supposed to be. It's Wilbur's current running theory at least.

Ace, his nemesis, a villain that harassed the hero whenever he was given the chance. The shrike avian that poisoned Wilbur's few dreams, a man that Wilbur is around eighty five percent sure committed a murder because this one guy decided to attack the hero. Well...he supposes that he was the one to commit that murder, if Ace is to be believed. According to the villain, apparently he had just disguised the murder to make it look like the shrike avian had done it so Wilbur wouldn't come under any potential fire.

And for some reason, he was the person Wilbur was running to.

The magpie avian was tired, so fucking tired. And he had only really stopped to consider where he was going once he came within viewing distance of the border. Well, it wasn't like there was a set border or anything like that. Wilbur had just narrowed down the places where the villain might have his base. This side of the city was the hero's best bet if he wanted to find his nemesis.

But why did he want to find Ace? Why his nemesis of all people? Why was Wilbur running to him?

He knew the answer, he just didn't want to admit it.

Wilbur's wings wrapped around him, shielding him from the wind. The city was cold at night, and he had been so fucking upset he stormed out without even grabbing a goddamn coat. He was actively considering flying into his nemesis's potential territory without his hero costume. What the fuck was wrong with him?

His hero costume, while bland, had protected him well over the years. It was a simple armor reinforced black jumpsuit with blue highlights and brown falconer's gloves for his hands. The gloves were designed to resist the sharp talons of birds of prey, so it had served Wilbur well in keeping his talon-like nails in check. His black boots were specifically designed with shock absorption soles and sheaths for a few knives (not that Wilbur ever ended up using them). He did wear a mask with his costume, black and grey in color with blue outlines. Of course, the point of the mask wasn't really to protect an identity or anything like that.

Everyone knew that Magpie was Wilbur Minecraft.

His hero costume still protected him, however. It had protected him from getting shot at least three times thanks to it's reinforcement and had prevented him from burning his skin seeing how he always seems to get into trouble with fire in some way.

So it was stupid to be out here in only his button up nightshirt and sweat pants. Hell, his hair wasn't even it's usual small braid. He was supposed to be asleep right now damnit!

It was times like these that Wilbur really fucking hated himself. Because those stupid fucking emotions of his kept bubbling up and he had to keep pushing them down before he does something he's going to regret.