Yet Another Hero (Origin Story)


BlueBattler

 

Posted

A world without Statesman.

How do you accept the impossible?

Nearly a week after his death, and it still feels like some kind of bad dream that the entire city is trying to wake up from.

Statesman had been around longer than I had been alive. Longer than my grandparents had been alive. Everyone expected him to live forever.

Forever wasn’t nearly as long as we thought.

They closed school the day after we got the news. Just about every business in town was shut down too. It seemed like everyone was on the streets—but I had never seen the city so quiet.

So many people were crying … I had never seen so much grief.

Old men and women. Kids barely old enough to understand what had happened. Police officers. Even criminals …

I saw a Freakshow tank trying to cover his eyes with the giant mallets that had replaced his hands. His great metal body was shaking like his heart was breaking.

Half a dozen Warriors raised their weapons in salute and said “Statesman!” over and over again. They shouted to their voices were hoarse, and then they did it again.

Tsoo Sorcerers offered invocations to their ancestors wishing his spirit a safe journey …

Even the Circle of Thorns seemed stunned by his passing. For once, they stood shoulder to shoulder with the citizens of Paragon and did not try to do them harm … even their demons seemed shaken to the core by what had come to pass.

Me … I could barely speak.

My name is Marcus Cole McCallister.

And if it weren’t for Statesman, I’d never have been born.

It’s a story that Mom’s told so many times that I forgot just how lucky I’d been.

Mom was in labor. Dad was driving her to the hospital in Talos.

And Statesman and Lord Recluse were having one of their countless battles.

Statesman was winning.

He was close to beating Recluse once and for all. He knew it. Recluse knew it. The entire world knew it.

So Recluse changed the rules.

He broke from Statesman, grabbed my parents’ car—and threw it into the bay.

Statesman had a choice.

Put an end to Recluse once and for all—or save lives.

He chose life.

Statesman not only dug my parents’ car out of the water, he flew them to the nearest piece of land—one of those godforsaken islands—and delivered me into the world.

Mom and Dad have a picture on the wall. It’s a picture of them, baby me, and Statesman.

Mom and Dad are still soaking wet. Statesman is standing between them, holding me—

And I’m wrapped in his cape.

I was still young enough to think Statesman was cool when the first Rikti War Invasion came. I still have nightmares about it.

I was in class when one of the bombs hit. My classroom—my school—was leveled.

My best friend died that day.

I remember being there in the dark, calling Timmy’s name, trying to get him to wake up—knowing that he never would. His cousin Sally was sitting next to me, crying—

And we both knew we were going to die.

But we didn’t.

Statesman pulled tons of wreckage apart looking for us. Somehow he just knew we were there—he knew we needed him.

And he saved us.

I want to say I never forgot what it felt like when he reached into the darkness and pulled us to safety, back into the light, back into life …

But I did.

I was 17 the day Statesman died.

And like every other kid in school, I thought he was a joke.

We made fun of his helmet. His cape. The way he talked. How short he was compared to modern heroes.

We called him old fashioned. We called him a relic. We said he was behind the times.

We laughed at him.

No one’s laughing now.

No matter how dark things got, no matter how hopeless it seemed, we always had hope that as long as Statesman was there fighting for us things would be okay.

Now he’s gone.

And the world still needs heroes.

I’ve always been a little tougher than the average kid, always able to hit a little harder than anyone else my age.

Maybe Statesman had something to do with that—or maybe there was something magical about the island I was born on. I don’t know.

I never thought about being a hero.

I dreamed about it, sure. No kid in Paragon doesn’t dream about being a hero.

I dreamed about swooping in and beating up the bad guys, about saving the prettiest girl in school from a fate worse than death … whatever that was.

I wanted to be Manticore. I wanted to be Night Fox.

I didn’t want to be Statesman.

I wanted to be cool.

I was such an idiot.

We all were.

We forgot what Statesman had shown us. We forgot that heroism is more than fancy costumes and energy blasts. We forgot there’s more to being a hero than beating up a bad guy …

I can’t bring Statesman back.

I can’t tell him how sorry I am that I didn’t respect him more when he was alive.

But there’s something else I can do.

Like I said, I’m a little stronger, a little tougher, than most people.

It’s not much, but it’ll have to be enough.

I can’t fill his shoes. No one can. There’s only one Statesman, and we’re never going to have him back again.

But I can be a hero.

I am going to be a hero.

Not like Manticore or Night Fox.

I’m not going to wear dark colors and haunt the rooftops, striking terror in the hearts of criminals.

I’m going to wear red and blue. And white stars.

And my name?

I’ve thought about that a lot.

I’m not going to call myself Statesman, Jr. or anything like that. I can never live up to the legend that the other Marcus Cole created.

There have been a lot of heroes in Paragon City … and a lot of them have died being heroes.

But there’s always more heroes to continue the fight.

Statesman. Miss Liberty. Galaxy Girl and Dauntless. The Grimm Fairy. Tin Mage. The Justifier. The Alpha and Omega Teams.

Heroes die, but heroism never does.

When one falls, yet another hero steps forward to take up the fight.

So that’s my name:

Yet Another Hero.

Rest, Statesman.

You’ve earned it.

Your City—your world—will be safe.

We’ll see to that.

I promise.


My COX Fanfiction:


Blue's Assembled Story Links

 

Posted

Okay, that is just awesome!


"Don't you know dead is spelled m-e-n-t-a-l in CoH? - SapphireShot