GraceFall [ONC 2024]

1

Far above Faraday City ...

This must be how a god sees them.

Little creatures, scuttling about in their meaningless lives, unaware or uncaring that the world could come to an end in the blink of an eye. He'd seen it happen on his own world, millions of lightyears from here. An entire planet razed to dust and ash. It could happen here. It could happen so easily. He could do it. Several others supers could do it and these insects, these humans, had no idea how close they had come to extinction, or how many times it had happened.

Zjahn Zjmit had come crashing to this planet decades ago, a Peacemaker on his own world, searching for allies, for saviours, but they had come too late. He had watched his world burn and the heroes of this world, Earth, had proven as unable to stop it as he. With no home left to him, no family, no kin, Zjahn had settled here, took up the name Sean Smith and tried to live a normal life, but he could never settle. His training and his powers gave him an advantage over most of the people on this world and he chose to become a protector, a superhero, in order to ensure what happened to his own world never happened again.

Now, as the costumed adventurer, Psycona, he lived to serve a species that he felt little connection to. He could never become a part of this world, never love, never make friends. His psychic powers hid his alien visage, but never the otherworldly presence he hid from them all. All but a very few could compare to him and, he had to admit to himself, he could beat even the most powerful of his peers, under the right circumstances. Especially with the knowledge that he did not show all of his powers. Some powers could only cause panic and distrust and he needed trust here more than anything.

At this height, the prevailing winds whipped the ridiculous cape about him. It flapped against his legs, wrapped around his waist. A foolish affectation, but the humans appeared to expect such things from their more preeminent heroes. It didn't distract him from his mission. Nothing could. He was a Peacemaker of the Zjahul! His mind stretched out to the teeming city below, searching for anything that could require his skills, though he doubted anything could break the tedium of this world's petty crimes.

Their minds cried out. A constant cacophony. These humans could not even make the most basic psychic barriers, shouting out every thought, every idea, every passing whim into the air and he heard them all. He heard their hopes, their fears, their dreams and their desires. He heard the happy thoughts, the sad thoughts, the sickening thoughts. And, through the tumult, he searched for those special thoughts, the ones that told him the city had need of him.

There! Far below in the filthy back alleys of the unclean streets, where humans allowed their waste and unwanted souls to congregate. A familiar thought. A welcome thought. A cry for help, and not a banal cry, but one filled with fear and doubt. They expected to die at the hands of a super. A villain. A villain that Psycona knew well. Though one that had, more than once, given him a harder time than most of these creatures.

With a flick of his cape, Psycona burst into action, arms outstretched as his psychic powers defied the might of gravity and friction, powering downward to the streets he had chosen to protect.

He was a hero, and he was needed.

-+-

Faraday City banking district ...

"Pitiful fools! When will you learn your pathetic weapons are no match for Bone Master!" The creature extended bones through his skin, piercing the roof of the squad car, and lifted the vehicle above his head. "Now suffer the consequences!"

Bone Master tossed the car through the air, sending police and civilians diving for cover. It smashed against the wall of the building opposite, exploding into flames, sending debris arcing outward in all directions. The super-villain didn't care who he hurt. Psycona had seen the villain try to bring down entire buildings to affect escapes in the past. But, if nothing else, the creature had a consistent method. He took a single hostage, every time, thinking that could save him. It never had.