Quick note 1: Whipped this up today, just to see if I could do it.
Quick note 2: This is meant to fit into the lore already created for my main character, to explain why he has switched to villainside. In RL, I just wanted the badges.
There will be no turning back.
In fact, turning my back was the last act I imposed upon my peers. Despite not being a true metahuman like most of them, they trusted me, even to the point of granting me the privilege of serving them by leading them against evil and injustice. The hardships we encountered, within and without, only strengthened the bonds uniting us.
That is, until I severed them myself.
No one could have guessed, in the years I exerted my role and various duties, that this day would come. That one who had been so vocal in his support of everything heroic could so easily switch sides and head willfully into a world he opposed.
But I’m getting ahead of myself and jumbling the occurrence of things. I do that sometimes.
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The Sky’s The Limit
2002 was the year everything changed and destiny brutally confronted not just me, but the entire city as well.
Perhaps I had grown complacent in thinking intellect and technology alone could usher man into a new age. I was younger, and more than a little optimistic about New Camelot Enterprises spearheading a new era of proud scientific achievements. It was the heyday of knowledge - both scientific and arcane, and NCE was carving a path alongside other promising ventures such as Portacio Industries and Wetware Inc.
I know now that I should never have left my guard down when Crey Industries approached me to work on some ideas together. They were seeking to get back in the limelight then. Their support of Hero Corps having been a public relations disaster they were now seeking new opportunities to regain the trust of the populace. NCE was approached first in 2001 and in no uncertain terms offered to be bought out by Crey as a means to inject “new blood” in their own ranks.
In retrospect, maybe I should have accepted. Refusing the offer did not prevent Crey from obtaining my projects and blueprints anyhow, which I realized only years later.
“Look, dear, your company is struggling for a position in the market and we have all the business channels you need to get there. This is exactly the strategy you need right now”, the Countess proclaimed.
“We have experience integrating ‘up-and-comers’ such as yourselves. Our business acumen can only be an asset to your promising venture,” she continued. “We care for and protect our own, Mr. Greenwood, with an intensity some would qualify as a feverish zeal. Your interests, once they become our mutual interests, would receive all the attention they deserve.”
The Treo 270 I had been sent when it was still called “Atlanta” wouldn’t stop vying for my attention, buzzing and vibrating its announcement of communications it deemed crucial in importance. The device had potential, and I could already see the positive impact this could have on corporate communications, but right now it was intruding.
This meeting was turning into an unwanted intrusion on my schedule, extending past the time I had allotted for it. It was late in the day and this provided a practical reason for shelving this proposal for later discussion.
My wife had accompanied my son’s class to the Terra Volta plants today. She had called to say there had been sightings of red lights in the sky, but this was Paragon City. Such things were expected here and normalcy was the exception. She had called to say they were being delayed and would probably stop to eat in Independence Port once travelling was allowed again. She had called our chauffeur already to plan ahead and have him pick them up just outside Terra Volta, where Valor Bridge ended.
“I have no doubt in your leadership skills and the ample resources at Crey Industries’ disposal would be a boon to NCE’s pursuits in nanotechnology and studying further the Fracas Effect Energy Manipulation theories. I’m convinced there is a way to harness the energy released by this pan-dimensional interchange to provide mankind a nigh limitless, clean source of power. Our own nanotech research is currently centered on synthetics but it could be adapted to biologicals - perhaps even be a factor in bettering your own husband Alphonse’s comatose condition,” I started explaining. She shifted in her seat.
“We’ve done good business together these last couple of years, Countess. Even shared labs and collaborated on some projects that were simply outstanding in long-term impact. Unfortunately I’m not convinced that NCE stands to benefit as much from this deal as potentially Crey would in return, so I’ll need -”
A door swung open, so fast the air whistled a little when rushing out of the way.
“Sir! There’s been an attack on the power plant your wife and son were visiting today!”, an assistant barged in almost shouting. Countess Clarissa was visibly miffed that a subordinate would intrude in this fashion but her countenance relaxed at the mention of my family.
I had taken this opportunity to have this meeting after working hours and had planned on meeting my family by taking out the prototype FR.E.E.M. jump boots for a spin. This new cybernetic endeavor aimed to combine the nanotech and FR.E.E.M. divisions’ results into a more cohesive whole. I had been itching to find an excuse to use them in public. Plus, what father didn’t like showing off to his son while he could still compete for his attention against all the real superheroes out there?
“What are you talking about?!” I said, half-rising out of my chair and leaning over the cluttered desk. Even the Countess turned to better take in the information being profered.
“Sir, I’m afraid there’s no good way to say this... there’s been reports of an alien attack on several zones in the city. Power plants were among the areas targeted.” He started sobbing. “The news are reporting that.. that...”
My chief of security barged in, radio in hand. “SIR! I wasn’t able to reach you on your phone, and... Sir, you’d better come with me. This place is not safe right now.”
“I’ll see myself out, Stephen,” Clarissa whispered as she got up and I slid back into my chair, stunned. It took a few seconds to get focused again and leave my office with the security team, barely noticing that Hopkins was escorting her out to the helipad while we headed for the underground parking lot.
The clock on the abandoned smartphone read 7:36, May 23rd. It kept buzzing until the NCE labs and offices were bombed, a few minutes later.
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Reboot
Grief is expressed in a multitude of ways.
Some cry, enraged by loss and concentrating their ire on fickle fate.
Others escape reality to find solace at the bottom of a bottle or needle, or getting into bed with strangers for a brief human contact.
After some months spent hating the universe for allowing such a thing as the Rikti to exist, and trying to honor as best I could the lives of my wife and child, I went back to work.
Crey had not been so distraught by the alien invasion, taking advantage of the situation to leverage their position as shareholders in New Camelot Enterprises to obtain a majority of shares, and therefore claim all my existing patents for their own use. What had not been destroyed or killed that was mine, Crey legally took away. What resources I had left I secreted away.
So the work I returned to was experimental, sometimes blueprinted but more often just figments of my imagination, pursuing the idea of integrating FR.E.E.M. and synthetic nanotech.
It took months of subcontracting small parcels of the project to various parts of the world. I even created fictitious companies to distract anyone who was keeping an eye me. All my energy and every waking hour I could spend on this idea was invested in one central focal point: I would personally put to use the skills I had for the public good, instead of fattening my wallet.
My free time was invested in bettering my knowledge, expanding my fields of research, and maintaining my body fit for the demands I was to put upon it. There was no time for socializing, no need for another outlet, I felt any romantic relationship would have cheapened the memory of the wife I still loved.
While the world changed around me the way only the threat of war could shape, I labored. A new generation of metahumans arose in the wake of the loss of the Omega Team. Some chose to satisfy their own lusts and desires. Others opted to adhere to promoting public peace and safety. All considered Paragon City the nexus of their kind.
New menaces appeared. The Clockwork. The tech pirates known as the Skyraiders. Hamidon Pasalima crossed the line of no return in both magic and science, becoming an ever present threat. The otherworldly Rularuu crossed into our reality. The 5th Column was overtaken by the Council from within - a hostile takeover / coup that reminded me of how Lord Recluse had usurped Arachnos in years past. Nemesis remained a stick in everyone’s craw.
And new guardians also rose. The Hero Corps rose again, for which I’m certain Crey had dealings with - for better or for worse. Kheldians joined our fight against their evil counterparts. The Longbow were created and the Freedom Phalanx remained a beacon for all aspiring heroes.
It was by conscious choice that justice became the driving force behind the sleepless nights, the reclusiveness, and the outcome was my crowning achievement: a Fracas Effect powered, carbon nanofiber-laced plasteel armor augmented by an advanced quantum supercomputer.
While I could not be a “true” superhero in the sense that I had no powers originating from my person, I was confident that equipped properly, I could restore justice, right wrongs, and give villains a very valid reason to seek other employment opportunities.
For me grief was similar, and yet radically different. I became a superhero. A grand roque occurred where the rook was brought into play, the king having withdrawn into a safer area.
Stalemate was ready for battle.
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What if... ?
Nine years have passed since I started on this path, placing my life in jeopardy so that others could feel safe.
Nine years where anguished grief gave way to respectful mourning, and then to honoring the memory of my wife and son. The justice I sought keeps eluding me. It warms my heart to be able to assist others in obtaining it.
The road has been long, and an account of my deeds as a hero are best kept for another day. Suffice it to say that I am satisfied with the work I did in the past, and the allies who chose to associate with me during it all. Our combined efforts accomplished more than I ever could have hoped to do alone and I take pride in having been a part of it.
I was reminiscing upon this when I first learned of the concepts of Power Proliferation that this “Dr. Brainstorm” was espousing. It was an interesting theory, that piqued my curiosity when coupled to what Positron told me about the origins of power: that it fed both heroes and villains.
What did that imply about who I was as a person, as a product of this underlying net of power, as part of a whole.
What if all this had happened for a reason?
What if manipulating the Fracas Effect had adverse effects, causing enough pandimensional instability to provoke links with other worlds such as the Shadow Shard, or other Earth variants such as Praetoria?
What if my biggest personal loss was, in fact, a catalyst to launch me into who I was intended to become?
What if such destiny was orchestrated unbeknownst to me, and others, like pawns?
When I learned Crey was also involved in researching this under the guise of a Hypothetical Framework, my moral fiber started... twisting a little. I broke the law and got into a few of their server farms and looking around. I hired a few hackers to get Crey Industries’ security looking into a destructive DDOS attack while a few more slipped in under the radar to get me the information I needed - and more.
The black hats had tracked some audio files where Countess Crey had ordered the destruction of NCE headquarters as they pulled away from the rooftop. They had used this occasion to get what they wanted in the end.
I tried to rationalize the later attacks I conducted on a few labs and compounds but I need to come clean: Revenge is definitely a dish best served cold. It felt good to strike back at them for their betrayal.
Just like it felt good to participate in the devastation of the Rikti in person when they started coming back. I’ll even hang out in White Plains where one of their ships crashed only to hunt them down. For a brief time, when I take out another Rikti it lessens the void left by the loved ones they took from me. But I know this is a blood feud no one will win - even if their worst doesn’t scratch the armor with its latest improvements.
When eventually I consulted the menders in Ouroboros even more questions were spawned. The answers I held no longer fit, like puzzle pieces from the wrong set being used. Time paradoxes and endlessly forking possible outcomes.
What if... in the end, it’s all for nothing?
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Fact Finding
I’m no longer at the crossroads. My quest for what makes me what I am today has taken me beyond laws, beyond morality.
There was only one thing that could have made me alter my stance on such things. One single thing could have blurred the lines between good and evil. There is only objective left.
Truth.
If there’s a reason behind all this... If indeed there is some sort of master plan at work, I’m going to find it.
My road has taken me from revered hero to reviled villain. My associates think me a traitor to the cause, and I’d be hard pressed to argue the finer points convincingly with them. But right now, the cold hard truth is: I need answers more than I need friends.
This is indeed a lonely road. Knowing it was to be so ahead of time does not lessen the emotional impact.
I need to know.
I perpetrate acts I used to condemn. I have become what I hated. Perhaps this is another method of coping with grief?
Throughout this temporary transition so far their memory has sustained me. They would not approve of this path and were they here today I would not even be on it, trying to sort out the intricacies of Stefan Richter’s Operation: DESTINY.
Eventually, I *will* know.