I wonder why Im writing this? Maybe its because in the business Im in everything is so uncertain. I worry that one day that little microchip that monitors my vital signs will fail and Ill be killed before I can be teleported to a hospital. I dont trust technology, which I guess is ironic since so much of me is made of metal and circuitry. And Ive already got a lot of high-profile enemies who are constantly tracking me, so anything could happen. At any rate, Ive decided to write you this letter so that you know Im always thinking of you, even though we dont really know each other that well. I want you to know who I am, and why Im the person Ive become.
My name, my real name, is Ian Baker. Im 15 years old, and I live and work in Paragon City, Rhode Island. Im a superhero. My paperwork at City Hall says Im a radiation/sonic defender of mutant origin. Its funny in this city, strange powers and amazing abilities are so common that the politicians have categories and labels for us. Anyway, to truly understand me you need to know a bit of my background.
My earliest memory is of living at the Steel Canyon Childrens Home, an orphanage. I dont remember much about the place, since I was really little when I was adopted, but I do remember there was a really nice lady there who looked after us kids. I wish I could remember her name, but she was so pretty and always smelled like flowers. Funny, the things we remember after so long. I dont know why I was given up for adoption, but I never really wondered either.
Apparently, my mutant powers started showing up when I was very small, which is unusual since Im told mutations dont usually manifest until puberty. A lot of the other kids and some of the staff at the orphanage got really sick, and I guess it was my fault. I was leaking radiation and it was harming everyone around me. Im sure the orphanage directors were in a panic. That must have been when she heard about me.
I never once thought of her as my mother, not once in all the years I belonged to her. In fact, she only stopped by to check in on me once every few months, and only then to observe how much progress the scientists and doctors had made. She never spoke directly to me nor called me by my name. To her, I was the subject. The Countess Crey may have adopted me, but she never called me her son.
Instead of toys and games, I grew up with tubes and chemicals. The scientists at the laboratory were my caretakers, but they werent very parental towards me either. They saw me as an experiment, a challenge, an equation to be balanced. They were cold and unfeeling, and life was a never-ending hell of needles and surgeries and scans.
The worst was when they cut off my arms. I dont think I was supposed to know about that before the operation, but I overheard a doctor and an orderly talking about it in the lab that morning. I screamed. I screamed and didnt stop screaming until the orderly had strapped me down and injected me with a sedative.
When I awoke, my arms were gone. In their place were these limbs of metal and wires and pistons. I couldnt move them (that would come later, after months of training apparently my brain had to learn how to send the right signals to my new cybernetic arms). The new arms were designed to amplify my ability to control and emit radioactive fields. They felt so alien, so cold, and yet they were a part of me. I spent a long time being trained in how to properly use them. I was as cold and dead inside as they were.
Two years after the surgery, I had finally mastered the use of my metal arms (though I still dont understand the science behind them). I could crush a brick just by squeezing it, or I could pick a grain of sand up off of a table. And after countless, mind-numbing training sessions, I could emit several different types of radiation. I could make a large crowd of people sick to the point of vomiting, or I could make their muscles atrophy and their immune systems fail. I could even levitate small objects by focusing a stream of charged ions to magnetize them. Eventually, I was told that this ability would allow me to levitate and even fly, once Id mastered it.
But that wasnt enough. If I was to be a tool of Crey Biotech, I would have to be trained in the more violent arts. I was taught to infiltrate high-security buildings. I was taught to spy, to assassinate, to manipulate. I was undoubtedly the most deadly and dangerous 13 year old in Rhode Island, and probably beyond. But still, that wasnt enough for her.
Apparently, a large number of heroes had been popping up all over the place with the power to control sound waves. Nobody really knew why there were so many sonic heroes showing up, but they were making quite an impression on the criminal element of Paragon City. The Countess coveted this new power, and ordered her scientists to come up with a way of emulating the ability using technology. I was the perfect lab rat, the guinea pig they used in all of their experiments. So naturally, they tested the new technology on me.
My larynx was removed and replaced with some sophisticated machinery they developed. It was based upon the technology in my cybernetic arms, except that instead of focusing and amplifying my natural radiation emission, it allowed me to emit sound waves of any frequency, pitch or tone. Like some sort of sick mechanical ventriloquist, I could emulate someones voice so closely that even a computerized voiceprint couldnt tell the difference. I could blast sounds so loud that they could incapacitate the human brain. And I could focus my sound waves so precisely that I could hit an entire audience of people or target just one person in a large crowd. The drawback was that Id have to wear a complicated audio speaker system in a metal faceguard at all times except when eating. Without that faceguard, I would be rendered completely mute.
I guess when I was 14 they finally decided I was ready. They implanted a tracking device in one of my arms and I was sent on a mission. I was to spy on and, if possible, incapacitate and abduct a young heroine named Snowbane. Why they wanted her Ill probably never know, because as soon as Id been given my orders and dropped off outside Snowbanes apartment complex in Steel Canyon, I ripped the tracking implant out of my right arm and ran.
No doubt she was furious. I wouldnt be surprised if a number of her employees were fired (or worse) that day. I didnt care. I wasnt thinking much at the time. The only thought in my mind was, I have to get away or shell find me. So I ran, wandering aimlessly down the dark, unlit alleyways of Steel Canyon. At one point, some gang members attacked me. I made short work of them, but one of my arms was damaged quite badly when it took a shotgun blast at almost point-blank range.
I must have run for hours. I was lost and cold and hungry, and I saw her around every street corner. That was when Positron found me. At first I thought he was one of her thugs, and I tried to fight him. But come on, hes Positron of the Freedom Phalanx. It took him no time at all to subdue me. He said he wouldnt hurt me. I didnt believe him. He said I was leaking radiation everywhere, and that his suits built-in monitors set off an alarm, and that that was how hed tracked me. I didnt care. He speculated that the leak was coming from my damaged arm. It didnt matter to me.
Our friendship certainly didnt start out on a bright note. I didnt make it easy for him, but after what Id been through it was hard for me to trust anyone. But over the months, we bonded. He explained to me why he has to wear his suit, and that he and I are alike. He helped me overcome my hatred for my metal arms and my distrust of people. He showed me that my radiation could be used to aid people by stimulating their immune systems and their natural healing abilities. And most importantly, he taught me that people are worth risking ones life for. He showed me the value of humanity.
So here I am. A superhero. I registered the name Ion Burst with City Hall, and filled out all the paperwork to become a hero. The secretary who took my application was very snide, saying that they didnt get many heroes with acne. My friend Positron glared at her, and she put me into the computer system without another word. I guess it pays to have friends in high places. Positron even helped me design a costume: bright green to match my glowing radiation fields, with an atom symbol on the chest. I like it. And Im quickly making a name for myself. Ive been knocked out a few times and sent to the hospital, but Ive knocked a fair number of heads too.
And in the end, Positron is right. Paragon City is worth saving from the evil and depraved and scheming. I cant tell you the number of times Ive saved ordinary citizens from terrible fates, only to have them run over and thank me profusely. They dont see me as strange, and they dont see me as a metal monstrosity. They see me as a hero and saviour, and that makes it worthwhile. So, if anything bad should happen to me, at least I know I will have done something to make the world a better place.
But, before the day I fall in battle, I will get my revenge. The Countess Crey will pay for what she has done to me, and for the evils she has brought into this city I love so much. Its been a few years since my last run-in with Crey Biotech, but the rage and anger at the injustices done to me hasnt subsided at all. Im training every day, and soon Ill be strong enough to take on anything Crey can throw at me. And when that day comes, Crey Biotech will crumble like a brick between my metal hands.
Mother, your little boy is all grown up and Im coming home to see you
Your "son",
Ion Burst
Posted
Wow. That was amazing. Keep writing Ion, I will want to see more.
Posted
Nice, very nice.
Posted
I loved it, the ending made me wonder whether his mother should be glad or very afraid when they meet...
Dear Parent I Never Knew,
I wonder why Im writing this? Maybe its because in the business Im in everything is so uncertain. I worry that one day that little microchip that monitors my vital signs will fail and Ill be killed before I can be teleported to a hospital. I dont trust technology, which I guess is ironic since so much of me is made of metal and circuitry. And Ive already got a lot of high-profile enemies who are constantly tracking me, so anything could happen. At any rate, Ive decided to write you this letter so that you know Im always thinking of you, even though we dont really know each other that well. I want you to know who I am, and why Im the person Ive become.
My name, my real name, is Ian Baker. Im 15 years old, and I live and work in Paragon City, Rhode Island. Im a superhero. My paperwork at City Hall says Im a radiation/sonic defender of mutant origin. Its funny in this city, strange powers and amazing abilities are so common that the politicians have categories and labels for us. Anyway, to truly understand me you need to know a bit of my background.
My earliest memory is of living at the Steel Canyon Childrens Home, an orphanage. I dont remember much about the place, since I was really little when I was adopted, but I do remember there was a really nice lady there who looked after us kids. I wish I could remember her name, but she was so pretty and always smelled like flowers. Funny, the things we remember after so long. I dont know why I was given up for adoption, but I never really wondered either.
Apparently, my mutant powers started showing up when I was very small, which is unusual since Im told mutations dont usually manifest until puberty. A lot of the other kids and some of the staff at the orphanage got really sick, and I guess it was my fault. I was leaking radiation and it was harming everyone around me. Im sure the orphanage directors were in a panic. That must have been when she heard about me.
I never once thought of her as my mother, not once in all the years I belonged to her. In fact, she only stopped by to check in on me once every few months, and only then to observe how much progress the scientists and doctors had made. She never spoke directly to me nor called me by my name. To her, I was the subject. The Countess Crey may have adopted me, but she never called me her son.
Instead of toys and games, I grew up with tubes and chemicals. The scientists at the laboratory were my caretakers, but they werent very parental towards me either. They saw me as an experiment, a challenge, an equation to be balanced. They were cold and unfeeling, and life was a never-ending hell of needles and surgeries and scans.
The worst was when they cut off my arms. I dont think I was supposed to know about that before the operation, but I overheard a doctor and an orderly talking about it in the lab that morning. I screamed. I screamed and didnt stop screaming until the orderly had strapped me down and injected me with a sedative.
When I awoke, my arms were gone. In their place were these limbs of metal and wires and pistons. I couldnt move them (that would come later, after months of training apparently my brain had to learn how to send the right signals to my new cybernetic arms). The new arms were designed to amplify my ability to control and emit radioactive fields. They felt so alien, so cold, and yet they were a part of me. I spent a long time being trained in how to properly use them. I was as cold and dead inside as they were.
Two years after the surgery, I had finally mastered the use of my metal arms (though I still dont understand the science behind them). I could crush a brick just by squeezing it, or I could pick a grain of sand up off of a table. And after countless, mind-numbing training sessions, I could emit several different types of radiation. I could make a large crowd of people sick to the point of vomiting, or I could make their muscles atrophy and their immune systems fail. I could even levitate small objects by focusing a stream of charged ions to magnetize them. Eventually, I was told that this ability would allow me to levitate and even fly, once Id mastered it.
But that wasnt enough. If I was to be a tool of Crey Biotech, I would have to be trained in the more violent arts. I was taught to infiltrate high-security buildings. I was taught to spy, to assassinate, to manipulate. I was undoubtedly the most deadly and dangerous 13 year old in Rhode Island, and probably beyond. But still, that wasnt enough for her.
Apparently, a large number of heroes had been popping up all over the place with the power to control sound waves. Nobody really knew why there were so many sonic heroes showing up, but they were making quite an impression on the criminal element of Paragon City. The Countess coveted this new power, and ordered her scientists to come up with a way of emulating the ability using technology. I was the perfect lab rat, the guinea pig they used in all of their experiments. So naturally, they tested the new technology on me.
My larynx was removed and replaced with some sophisticated machinery they developed. It was based upon the technology in my cybernetic arms, except that instead of focusing and amplifying my natural radiation emission, it allowed me to emit sound waves of any frequency, pitch or tone. Like some sort of sick mechanical ventriloquist, I could emulate someones voice so closely that even a computerized voiceprint couldnt tell the difference. I could blast sounds so loud that they could incapacitate the human brain. And I could focus my sound waves so precisely that I could hit an entire audience of people or target just one person in a large crowd. The drawback was that Id have to wear a complicated audio speaker system in a metal faceguard at all times except when eating. Without that faceguard, I would be rendered completely mute.
I guess when I was 14 they finally decided I was ready. They implanted a tracking device in one of my arms and I was sent on a mission. I was to spy on and, if possible, incapacitate and abduct a young heroine named Snowbane. Why they wanted her Ill probably never know, because as soon as Id been given my orders and dropped off outside Snowbanes apartment complex in Steel Canyon, I ripped the tracking implant out of my right arm and ran.
No doubt she was furious. I wouldnt be surprised if a number of her employees were fired (or worse) that day. I didnt care. I wasnt thinking much at the time. The only thought in my mind was, I have to get away or shell find me. So I ran, wandering aimlessly down the dark, unlit alleyways of Steel Canyon. At one point, some gang members attacked me. I made short work of them, but one of my arms was damaged quite badly when it took a shotgun blast at almost point-blank range.
I must have run for hours. I was lost and cold and hungry, and I saw her around every street corner. That was when Positron found me. At first I thought he was one of her thugs, and I tried to fight him. But come on, hes Positron of the Freedom Phalanx. It took him no time at all to subdue me. He said he wouldnt hurt me. I didnt believe him. He said I was leaking radiation everywhere, and that his suits built-in monitors set off an alarm, and that that was how hed tracked me. I didnt care. He speculated that the leak was coming from my damaged arm. It didnt matter to me.
Our friendship certainly didnt start out on a bright note. I didnt make it easy for him, but after what Id been through it was hard for me to trust anyone. But over the months, we bonded. He explained to me why he has to wear his suit, and that he and I are alike. He helped me overcome my hatred for my metal arms and my distrust of people. He showed me that my radiation could be used to aid people by stimulating their immune systems and their natural healing abilities. And most importantly, he taught me that people are worth risking ones life for. He showed me the value of humanity.
So here I am. A superhero. I registered the name Ion Burst with City Hall, and filled out all the paperwork to become a hero. The secretary who took my application was very snide, saying that they didnt get many heroes with acne. My friend Positron glared at her, and she put me into the computer system without another word. I guess it pays to have friends in high places. Positron even helped me design a costume: bright green to match my glowing radiation fields, with an atom symbol on the chest. I like it. And Im quickly making a name for myself. Ive been knocked out a few times and sent to the hospital, but Ive knocked a fair number of heads too.
And in the end, Positron is right. Paragon City is worth saving from the evil and depraved and scheming. I cant tell you the number of times Ive saved ordinary citizens from terrible fates, only to have them run over and thank me profusely. They dont see me as strange, and they dont see me as a metal monstrosity. They see me as a hero and saviour, and that makes it worthwhile. So, if anything bad should happen to me, at least I know I will have done something to make the world a better place.
But, before the day I fall in battle, I will get my revenge. The Countess Crey will pay for what she has done to me, and for the evils she has brought into this city I love so much. Its been a few years since my last run-in with Crey Biotech, but the rage and anger at the injustices done to me hasnt subsided at all. Im training every day, and soon Ill be strong enough to take on anything Crey can throw at me. And when that day comes, Crey Biotech will crumble like a brick between my metal hands.
Mother, your little boy is all grown up and Im coming home to see you
Your "son",
Ion Burst