The Marvels

Ep. 1 | Pilot

The world's most powerful superhero was having doubts.

Juggernaut stood on the second-tallest building in the city. Down below, the convoy closed its doors and departed, carrying the prisoner inside to their new life, far away from everything they'd done. Even the night sky protested: the light rain escalated into a torrential downpour. Lightning streaked across the dark clouds, but Juggernaut stood still, unbothered by the crackle in the air. He had this nagging feeling that what he'd done was incredibly, stupidly merciful. He deserved worse, he thought—but not everyone ended up getting what they deserved, now did they?

The convoy sped up a ramp and merged onto an interstate, heading east. He watched it go until it was a speck in the distance. And just like that, what was done was done. It no longer mattered.

Or so he thought.

------------one year later--------------

"Hey! Are you even listening to me?"

Vidya looked over her shoulder. Forget listening—she'd been too stressed to even realize that Amber was following her down the hallway. "Sorry. I'm listening now."

"Jonah's party is tomorrow night," Amber repeated. "Are you going?"

Vidya tried to look like she was at least considering. Jonah Goode was the boy who pushed her off the swing in second grade. The bruises on her knees only lasted a day, and holding a ten-year grudge was barely believable, but if this would get her out of the party...

"Sorry." Vidya shrugged. "I don't like Jonah."

"Is this...about the..." Amber's eyes widened. "It is, isn't it? It's about the freaking swing!"

Vidya held back a laugh. It wasn't about the swing, it was about the D in calculus she needed to bring up. Going to a party wasn't worth taking time out of studying, no matter how tempting it was.

To her credit, Amber didn't pry. She just sighed and said, "Fine. Whatever."

"You can still go."

"Nah. Who would I even talk to?" Amber shook her head, glitter sprinkling out of her honey-blonde hair.

They were both covered in the remains of today's art project. Amber's hair was full of glitter, her sleeves crusted with charcoal dust. Vidya's sneakers were splattered with paint, but she loved it. She never felt more alive than after a successful project, even if it was messy. Excluding her stress over bad grades, the day couldn't be more perfect.

But then they stepped out of their high school and gasped, taken aback by a wave of intense, suffocating warmth. It was Los Angeles, sure, but it was also January.

"Are you kidding me?" Amber shrieked. Her face already shone with sweat. "This is why I want to move to Canada."

Vidya sniffed the air, and an acrid, ashy smell burned her nose. Smoke. "I think the heat's coming from over there."

She pointed at the commotion just as a firetruck roared past them. A building down the street was burning, fingers of smoke climbing up into the sky. Standing in front of it was Flamethrower, smirking in the face of the red-hot danger. There wasn't even the slightest hint of fear on her face, and why would there be? She was one-fifth of the Marvels, the world-famous, mega-powerful superhero team headquartered right here in LA. She could handle this just fine.

The flames writhed as they were pulled toward the super's outstretched hands like yarn being forcibly spooled. The crowd stayed a safe distance away, and even the firemen stood back to watch; their assistance was not needed, and everyone knew it. The fire surrounded Flamethrower until it was spinning around her like a burning tornado. Vidya was sweating just imagining the heat in there, but Flamethrower never looked anything less than confident. With a simple clap of her hands, the flames disappeared.