Let's get the exposition dump out of the way to avoid the hundreds of chapters it would take to smoothly 'show' it all before the real story even begins.
It is roughly a decade after the final confrontation between superheroes and supervillains, which the villains had won in an undisputed victory. While only a small percentage of the population have superpowers, even a normal human can cause sufficient trouble, so one can imagine what disasters these powered individuals caused in the wake of the war.
Over this past decade, the overall population and economy have finally reached a point of hero-free stability. Estimates place the world population somewhere between one-fourth and one-third of the pre-war population, not that anyone would dare attempt a census when you're more likely to get shot than receive an accurate answer in regards to who lives where.
Throughout the years, at any given moment the world is merely one step of an unsupervised white long-haired cat onto an uncovered large red button away from the surface of the entire planet getting glassed. In the face of this alarmingly likely scenario, the supervillains had all fallen into a cold war of death lasers, orbital cannons, robot armies, and of course, their superpowers.
Thanks to this stalemate, grand displays of power had mostly lost their appeal, as they were no longer unique, and could only be demonstrated once. So, they had switched to the pursuit of more creative ways to flex their prowess, or to at the very least amuse themselves.
No small number of these supervillains decided they enjoy receiving lots of attention, so they opted to become celebrities with public-facing personas. They are still just as likely to cut you as before, they're just also happily basking in all of the praise in the meantime.
Individual material wealth had lost most of its value, while paper currencies completely lost all of their value. This is in no small part due to the rampant counterfeits, as well as the sheer challenge of carrying it from one destination to another without getting mugged en-route.
For those with no, or only weak, superpowers, not attracting attention to yourself became one of the best survival methods. As such; flaunting jewelry, fancy clothes, or other such accessories was just painting an unnecessary target on yourself, further reducing such belongings' intrinsic value.
With the shift away from personal wealth, the majority of valuable art, jewels, and artifacts were actually returned to the various museums they were robbed from. It was by no means out of altruism though, it was predominantly because private collections were just so damn unreliable.
This led to capable thieves gaining the entertainment of comparing theft speed runs amongst themselves before returning their loot within a day or two. In shows of one-upmanship, they would even make security recommendations in order to further challenge themselves and others.
Those villains inclined towards intelligence had gone on a continuous spree of invention design and problem-solving. Several mad scientist types effectively went full circle, as chasing solutions to global issues was one of the greatest challenges of all, and provided much-desired mental stimulation. Of course, just as many of them made new problems, just for the sake of having something to do.
However, due to all of the previous standard currencies being rendered useless, the world as a whole had fallen into a barter system. This drove the inventive types who needed constant materials for their creations truly mad. Before long, they were driven to the point of teaming up with the elites from amongst the thieves to create genuinely secure banks for the storage of precious metals and other such valuable materials to serve as the gold standard behind a new digital currency.
A small non-magnetic chip was designed to be implanted within one's body, in a random location so as to not be readily cut out and stolen. These now serve as an ID, replacing easily stolen papers and strings of numbers. Heavily encrypted multi-step authentication is required for every transaction, designed such that even if the data is intercepted it can't be used to steal someone's identity.
Once a reliable basis for an economy was back in place, various occupations returned to work in a state mostly akin to how they had been pre-war. However, barely any customer-facing positions were filled by humans any longer, as the majority of transactions would simply lead to murder, regardless of how much income is offered. Most of these positions are instead filled by robots or other similar technologies.
There was one positive change, beyond technological advancements, that built up during the downward spiral of all previous standard currencies; a large number of people with sufficient resources had begun the habit of regular distribution of food and medications out of sheer spite. This was predominantly because they were actively opposed to anyone who would want to exploit essentials for profit during the economic crash.
Even when money and income were rebalanced, these practices stayed in place. Of course, there is plenty of social stigma behind requiring free assistance ever since the economy had stabilized, but it still remained a necessity for numerous people.
Junk food, snacks, and specialty diets you always had to take care of for yourself, though.
With all of this out of the way, it's time to focus on the present. Enjoy!
A gentle late-spring breeze blows past, stirring up a few dead leaves, and bringing along a tattered plastic shopping bag to dance in the wind. Its graceful performance is interrupted when it slams into the face of a casually dressed young man, who was observing an old woman in the nearby crosswalk.Slender lightly tanned hands reach up to remove the offending trash, exposing his clean-shaven face. His disgusted expression is punctuated by his brown eyes being narrowed into near slits. Tossing the trash back over his shoulder, the breeze changes direction and brings the filthy bag back to molest the back of his head in an aggressive assault upon his short brown hair. He stiffens briefly before defending himself, eventually managing to successfully swat his assailant away.
After a brief moment of disorientation, Lucas reflexively clutches his stomach and starts leaning forward, gasping for a deep breath. When his eyes snap open mid-motion, his face is enthusiastically greeted by a vaguely familiar tattered and soiled plastic bag. Freezing in this position for a few seconds before realizing he's not in any pain, he slowly reaches up to grab and hold the repeat offender bag. Lowering his gaze, he stares at the familiar hand holding the happily billowing scrap of plastic. Waiting a few moments more the direction of the wind shifts and he gently releases the bag, watching it float away in front of him with a blank expression.'This... Well then. I guess that's better than barely holding on while bleedin’ out. Hmm... knock knock super system, or whatever the hell you said you're called, ya still t
Coming back up into daylight from the gloom of the subway station, Lucas squints briefly as he adjusts to the change in brightness, shielding his eyes with a hand temporarily. Now in high spirits, he softly hums tunelessly to himself as he sets out for what was once upon a time his initial destination; his favorite pizza place.'Only had to elbow five people away, I'm impressed. I gotta say, that guy that tested my grip on the handle gettin’ completely knocked over when I shoved him with the suitcase was pretty great. That look on his face was priceless. It all bein’ followed up by that granny stuttering awkwardly before managing to say thank you was definitely the best part though, I could tell that she hasn't said it in... sheesh, years?'
Trigger Warning: This chapter features the first instance of real gore.After having mostly composed himself, Lucas now wields a cardboard box full of beer and garlic knots upon his left shoulder, with the treasured pizza box held before him. He is still making a conscious effort to stay calm, however, his mind keeps uncontrollably drifting back to the newly discovered knowledge of his... contractual obligations.Walking the few blocks back to his apartment, he does his best to project an aura of, 'want my pizza? Fuck around and find out.' Thankfully, every covetous look upon his illustrious cardboard is successfully glared away by him.Being fully aware of Lucas's foul mood, 427 has tacitly stayed silent throughout his journey home.
When Lucas makes it to the door of his apartment, he drops the knife on the ground. He shakily pulls his keys from his pocket, further smearing bloody debris on his clothes, and slowly fumbles through unlocking the four external locks. Once the door is open, he kicks the knife inside, then staggers in after it. Once inside, he hurriedly sets the boxes down on the floor by the doorway, closing the door behind him by kicking his shoes back at it. He dashes to his bathroom to wash his hands with hot water, not stopping until the third complete cycle of scrubbing them. With the sink still running, he braces himself against
For what somehow simultaneously feels like both an eternity yet also just a moment, Lucas trembles with stomach-churning disorientation. Startling awake and gasping deeply, his unfocused eyes snap open, looking up at a yellow-stained large-paneled ceiling. Vision clearing as he gets his bearings, he finds that he is currently slumped across two chairs next to a thick round solid metal table that is bolted to the ground. With one hand on the table, he dazedly pulls himself upright. He slowly looks down at the casual clothes and unzipped hoodie he is wearing before looking up again with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.'Wai… Wha? This is… Why did I go back again?'[You… You didn't do it intentionally? You were chugging alcohol that would be better used as rocket fuel or paint stripper rather tha
With his eyes fixed on the treacherous purse, Lucas swallows nervously.'It won't be very long before he shows up right? What should I do 427, just immediately grab the bag back and find a way to disarm him, but then let him run off? It's not like I can restrain him and turn him in to the police, they'd probably just laugh me away if I even tried. It doesn't feel like it's enough though...'[While that would count as a successful GDV task completion, you don't want to let him off that easily do you? I understand you're probably still traumatized from last time, but you don't have to let him go unscathed. Break an arm or two perhaps?]Lucas's nervous expression falls from his face, instead, his mouth stretches into a sinister smile.
With the flush starting to slowly fade from his face, Lucas slams the door of his apartment shut by leaning back against it heavily. Taking a few deep breaths, he then kicks off his shoes and goes to set the pizza plus partners down on his coffee table. Once his hands are free, he heads back over, re-locking the door. Feeling some semblance of security, he heads into the kitchenette to wash his hands, grabbing the confiscated jagged knife on the way and tossing it into the sink before promptly ceasing to care about it.Returning to the patched-up sofa, now wielding a butter knife, Lucas closes his eyes for a moment in silent directionless prayer before opening the box to see the damage."Nooo, my baby! Look how they massacred my boy." He mourns aloud, witnessing the majority of cheese and sausage being stuck to the lid of the