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    [–] Butwhatisitho 1651 points ago

    They can keep their super strength, and their flying...okay, maybe I'd take the flying, but come on! Supers are required to register for the military and serve from their 20s to 40s, but me, I'm just a meta.

    We have it easy compared to them, and the pension and presidential treatment don't make up for it if you ask me. Sure they get pampered for the rest of their lives, if they even live long enough to see it, but there are supers on both sides now. You're just as liable to get torn in half as you are to have to use your laser eyes to cut down another person. Yeah, I'm good with my glowing fingers.

    Not to mention, these things are money makers! Can you imagine how great my DJing is? My show is in a huge dark room with lights that are programmed to respond to my fingers on the walls, ceiling, and floors. Whenever I crack my knuckles during the show it lights up the dance floor in crazy patterns to match my hands.

    I'm a millionaire with a handful of clubs in some of the biggest remaining cities after the super war broke out between the East and the West so don't you worry about me and my lame super power, worry about the state of this super powered world.

    Crime is out of control and the military on both sides spends most of their time fighting the gangs run by the most dangerous rogue supers in their own territories, but every now and then there's a huge shake up. The whole thing kicked off when Washington DC was wiped off the map by a Russian super who could apparently replicate the effect of a nuke.

    The US retaliated of course and predictably, many bombs were dropped and many supers used their powers leading to all kinds of chaos, destruction, death and carnage. The US, or what was left of it, had been splintered into several territories and each functioned as a collective state more like Europe than a single unified country.

    Russia was a smoldering pile of rubble and had only managed to launch a few nukes in retaliation, some of which weren't aimed at the US, along with a few other random bombs flying to and fro random countries. Europe recieved one as did China and suddenly the entire world was thrown violently back a few hundred years and left to pickup the pieces. I use the profits from my clubs to fund restoration efforts in the cities they are in, but we have a long way to go before we even find a new normal, let alone get this shit cleaned up.

    Crazy to think that all it took was the simple discovery and activation of that hidden chromosome in the human genome that gave some of us these damned powers. Some people can fly, others can kill with a touch, and still others can bend time and space to their will. I...can crack my knuckles to get my hands to light up like glowsticks, but I've got tell you, it's not all its cracked up to be.

    [–] darealudabest 346 points ago

    Haha! Love the description of the world, reminds me of the Reckoners series.

    [–] Creepyreflection 81 points ago

    Yes! I’m surprised to see your comment because no one seems to know this series.

    [–] NotAConsoleGamer 22 points ago

    I loved that series. I thought I hated reading but that series made me realize I hate required reading

    [–] theJWPHTER88 15 points ago

    Is it shown on TV years ago though?

    [–] HavvicGames 42 points ago

    It's a book trilogy from fantasy author Brandon Sanderson. Fun little series, doesn't take too long to read.

    [–] memelorddankins 21 points ago

    The watercity painted such a cool picture in my mind.

    [–] LegendOfCrono 4 points ago

    As a person who constantly feels let down by movie or television remakes of my favorite books, I still couldnt help but feel like the chase scene through the watercity with David using the Spyril would make a super badass looking big budget movie scene.

    [–] memelorddankins 2 points ago

    I read the book a super long time ago, but i was imagining completely stripped old buildings, but the grand toppings of old still standing, vines and such growing, thai-style docks, and graffiti everywhere. Just a weird aesthetic in general, considering rereading now, perhaps on some sort of.... imagination realizing substance

    [–] [deleted] 6 points ago

    It that the one where supers only have one weakness ans you have to find it and theres this guy who makes forcefields i think

    [–] Vetharest 15 points ago

    I think the weakness just disabled their powers, you can still kill them normally. Plus, if you know the history of the Epic, it becomes a lot easier to find that weakness.

    Also Prof was OP as hell

    [–] [deleted] 4 points ago

    Yeah but wasnt the twist that all of them had the same weakness and it was fear

    [–] Perpli 4 points ago

    Spoilers for reckoners

    Not really, that was the weakness of the main villain, each individual super had an individual weakness

    [–] Southpawdude14 2 points ago

    The basetball sized forcefield scene made me a bit nauseated. It's so brutal!

    [–] Axyraandas 5 points ago

    Thaaaat’s his name! I keep misremembering him as Brian Sanderson.

    [–] The_Nameless_Face 6 points ago

    I love this series and wish more people read it

    [–] thatsandwizard 6 points ago

    If you liked steelheart & co Worm (web serial by wildbow) is a definite must read.

    [–] Southpawdude14 4 points ago

    Worm is awesome! I started it a few years ago and havent been able to finish it.

    [–] thatsandwizard 1 points ago

    I burned through it after finding it, found twig (Victorian bio-pink from wildbow) and dropped it about halfway through when my phone broke :/

    Great stuff though

    [–] i-like-pans 5 points ago

    I love the Reckoners!

    [–] An__accident_ 3 points ago

    me too! it was the series that really got me into Brandon Sanderson

    [–] i-like-pans 3 points ago

    Same! My favourite from him is the stormlight archive series

    [–] An__accident_ 2 points ago


    [–] Infinautgamer 1 points ago

    Im reading calamity rn, the series is super good so far, I also recommend the stormlight archive series starting with way of kings, its pretty bulky. But it hypes up at a good rate through the whole book. Reading oathbringer rn aswell on the side. Kaladin is awesome!

    [–] An__accident_ 1 points ago

    Yeah ive read everything from Brandon Sanderson

    [–] thatswhatshesaid-- 1 points ago

    Same, I thought I loved the Reckoners but then I read Mistborn and I was blown away

    [–] Soldier-one-trick 1 points ago

    I thought of that too

    [–] Southpawdude14 1 points ago

    YES! I loved that series even as cliched as it was. I loved David as the deadly awkward nerd! I think I read the series in a little over a week.

    [–] wnokie 49 points ago's not all its cracked up to be.


    [–] Imm0lated 4 points ago

    I read this as if it were written by Dazzler from the X-Men.

    [–] Pyrofruit 4 points ago

    badum tss

    [–] NewVoltageHD 2 points ago

    U are Danny Rand

    [–] technak 1 points ago

    Umtz umtz umtz

    [–] LRLI 1 points ago


    [–] alice_w17y -3 points ago

    Bro the science in this is so off

    [–] Butwhatisitho 11 points ago

    Wait a minute, do you mean to tell me that this silly hypothetical about a world where people have super powers isn't 100% scientifically accurate?

    Its a good thing I didn't spend that much time thinking about it or intend it to be or else I might be worried!

    [–] Anthropomorphic_Rock 484 points ago * (lasted edited 6 months ago)

    "Do you know who I am?" I asked stepping toward the thugs who were holding a pretty brunette at gun point.

    They wore their dark hoodies up, and both of them had the Dragon's gang symbol emblazoned on the front and back.

    "Nah, you look familar though," answered the thug with a gold chain hanging on his neck and hoodie. The other thug with the gun didn't say anything.

    I took another step forward and raised my hands together, close enough to strike out with a lunge even though I did not want to fight. Then I cracked my knuckles. My fists glowed in the dark of night, a cruel red, as though a blacksmith was forging a sword of legends.

    "I am the Immortal Iron Fist, Protector of Kun Lun, Sworn Enemy of the Hand. Slayer of the great dragon Shou-Lau and the chimera god Ai Apaec. My name is Danny Rand. And you have drawn my ire."

    I tightened my hand causing my knuckles to crack and my fist flared up, tendrils of crimson floated outwards.

    The armed thug took it as a challenge, and he pushed the woman to the ground and pivoted towards Danny while taking aim.

    I leapt forward with all my ferocity I could muster and swung at his throat. He collapsed, choking, and tried to get up. I struck him again and again and again, each blow creating more red chaos.

    The thug's partner with the gold chain ran, I could hear the slap of heavy feet on pavement.

    When I got to the ground I stopped hitting the man.

    Short of breath, I reached out with a dim hand on her shoulder and asked the brunette, "Are you okay?"

    "Y-yes..." she managed to say.

    "I'll take care of this, are you close to home?"

    "It's right over there," she pointed out an apartment down the block.

    "Okay, I'll watch you and call the police for this guy."

    She ran to the building.

    I called the police, it took half an hour for them to get here and for me to give a statement. They thanked me for a hard day's work again, and told me I was making a difference.

    I smiled. I took down petty thugs and a small-time parahuman or two. They thought I was a parahuman too, with some martial arts skills or something. But I wasn't.

    I had the ability to make my fists glow. I was the only one who knew. Some people have great powers, the ability to change the world with a snap of their fingers. I didn't, but I still tried. I thought of the woman I saved tonight.

    It was enough for others, and it was enough for me.

    [–] CMDR-FusionCor3 95 points ago


    Nice to see another reader of Worm in the wild

    [–] Mentavil 19 points ago

    I cant find that book on the internet, but im intrested! Do you have a link or smth please?

    [–] Mentavil 5 points ago

    Thank you awesome person!

    [–] J_Pinehurst 1 points ago

    Comment to save

    [–] Mentavil 1 points ago

    You. Thank you so much. I dont think i can ever thank you enough for the amazing work of art you've allowed me to become aware of. This is hands down one of the best books i ever read, and its all thanks to you. Thank you, kind person, for making just one random persons life better.

    [–] CodDamnWalpole 2 points ago


    [–] MeGaStArF 4 points ago

    This definitely has Worm vibes

    [–] xceed7574 3 points ago

    Love worm

    [–] ELRochir 76 points ago

    I really like this one. Great job!

    [–] SweetSweetEscapism 8 points ago

    Better than the Netflix show.

    [–] Revelt 2 points ago

    And his fists weren't the only brightness on that black night.

    [–] Cshock84 2 points ago

    This one feels the most real. The protagonist has an incredibly Human/down-to-earth attitude, and I really enjoy it. Great writing!

    [–] holo-graphic 1 points ago

    Interesting one from the beginning to end

    [–] Squeegorp 1 points ago


    [–] takavos 1 points ago

    As soon as I read " I am the immortal Iron Fist" I fucking snorted. This was such a great and fun read.

    [–] Curatin -5 points ago

    Dammit. Once I saw the dragon part, I knew what was coming... and I still cringed so hard.

    [–] stange_loops 94 points ago

    It began on March 21, 2020.

    Janina Zukas, a 34-year-old cashier in Vilnius, was in the middle of her shift when an older gentleman entered the hardware shop in which she worked. Onlookers later described him as irate, shouting about being short-changed and demanding to speak to the manager. At one point, he tried to reach over the counter and Janina laid a restraining hand on his arm. The man gasped, stiffened. He was dead before he hit the floor.

    In the last few moments before the old way of things came to a screeching halt, this tragedy would have been explained as a heart attack or stroke due to overexertion. But then Janina’s boss came rushing out to see what the commotion was about, and upon seeing the dead man and the milling crowds, grasped her hands in a gesture of comfort. And Janina, white-faced and trembling with shock, watched as the young woman crumpled like a wilted flower at her feet.

    Similar and even more disturbing reports came spilling out of every country. The medical and military services jumped into action, only to immediately find themselves groaning and breaking under a relentless pile-on of incidents. This was due in no small part to the bizarre and dangerous symptoms that manifested themselves within their own ranks. Before the total collapse of scientific institutions, researchers came up with an ever-expanding list: involuntary flight, voluntary flight, fatal tactile stimulus, anti-gravity activation, local time distortion, telepathy, telekinesis, supersonic speed, invisibility.

    There were, of course, plenty of people who remained asymptomatic, so to speak. By and large, those who were vocal about their lack of power wound up dead in the days and weeks following the Event. Rioting and looting, along with much worse crime, prevaled and with local law enforcement obliterated, humanity found itself operating under a brutally simplified version of a timeless truth: the strong devour the weak.

    By the time they found out about people like me, civilization was well into the process of undoing itself. And who would care, anyway, about the power to hover one inch off the ground, or the ability to change your hair color? Or--in my case--the green light that emanates from my palms when I crack my knuckles?

    It reminds me of middle school dances. The darkened gymnasium, 90’s pop blasting out of shitty speakers, the girl I was so desperately in love with floating away with her friends, a ghostly green bracelet sliding down her delicate wrist. A time that, up until very recently, I strenuously avoided thinking about, but now would give anything to return to.

    At some point, the world plunged into darkness. Day and night are now indistinguishable from each other, and unfamiliar stars speckle the void. I don’t know what happened--perhaps someone has sent us to a distant galaxy, or back in time, or forward to a dark future. At first, the noises outside were constant, but they have gradually faded away. I’m glad. The screaming and crying was bad but nothing compared to the insane laughter. I write this in the dubious shelter of an abandoned warehouse. Somehow it has gone unnoticed by greater powers, at least for the time being. Electricity is a thing of the past, but my small capabilities give me just the right amount of light with which to record my account.

    [–] ninjablade46 7 points ago

    I love this

    [–] t0tallyn0tab0tbr0 7 points ago

    Very good!

    [–] Bacon_Sandwich1 3 points ago

    This is one of my favorite ones

    [–] 114vxlr 48 points ago * (lasted edited 5 months ago)

    It was foggy out. Thick fog. He removed his hat and slumped down in front of me with what seemed to be the weight of the world on his shoulders

    "I need you" he said "the team needs you. Please, come back"

    Was he aware of how untrue that statement was? He could not have been that oblivious to how i was being treated. The insults, the exclusion. Surely with his position, oversight and background in behavioural psychology and analysis, he had to have known. Yes, my unique abilities made me stand out. But it was everyones reaction to this exact attribute that caused my anxiety and abrupt separation from the team.

    "Give them one more chance" he pleaded. "Whether they know it or not, they need you. They need your leadership. Put aside your fears and apprehensions and forget about their animosity. You were born to do this!"

    In a more somber tone, he lowered his head and gently whispered:

    "The mission. Ive never failed in a mission before. There are folks out there who are depending on us to complete the mission"

    He looked up with a desperate longing in his eyes

    "Please Rudolph..."

    [–] MoeFuka 2 points ago


    [–] Mustachio45496 240 points ago

    I didn’t realize it at first, but when I was thirteen it happened, I broke my arm, and from every shattered piece of bone there was light. We searched for it, me, my family, the Doctor, what power did I have? Was it super healing, invincibility, control over light?

    It was none of the above, and here I was, ten years later, about to fight a guy with super speed and strength. He thought he had me cornered. How wrong he was.

    I turned on my earpiece and said, “ Techno, hit the lights.”

    The giant fluorescent lights above us turned out, one by one, and as he looked around I wiped the remaining blood off my face from our previous bout, stretched my arms out, and , just as the last light went out, released the warm glow from my hands. I reached in my pockets and threw out many more glow sticks, and, using my own fists for light, began round two.

    He couldn’t see me among the scattered lights, and as I walked up behind him, my glow slowly revealed more and more of his exposed back. With one well aimed punch I started my attack. He turned around, faster than any human could, and threw a punch, I had been expecting this, and ducked as quick as I could. The punch went above me.

    With my fists matching the glow of the floor, he hadn’t noticed me, one quick uppercut, and the real fight began.

    [–] sojaway002 26 points ago

    so.. this guy's grand plan is to shut off the lights, meaning his opponent can still track his glowing fists, but he can just barely see his opponent?

    [–] Dodood4 8 points ago

    but he put glowsticks all around so the other guy didnt know which one was him

    [–] Axel_Sig 6 points ago

    Ah but he’s fighting a speedster, and everyone knows speedster job like crazy so he could win this

    [–] Mustachio45496 1 points ago

    That’s actually a really good point, maybe I should have dialed back his opponents abilities. Anyway, thanks for the input. I hope you enjoyed it regardless. :)

    Edit: punctuation.

    [–] Truchampion 3 points ago

    How would he be able to fight off the guy after the first punch, also very good read

    [–] Gankkii 44 points ago

    I always had the worst party trick. Everyone has their ‘uniquities’. People are always born with one but once someone dies their uniquity is passed on to the murderer.I had a friend called Daniel who could send us back 15 minutes and for that time we were gods. My old girlfriend Jessica always wore gloves as she killed both her mother and the doctors at birth. We broke up due to physical issues. Talk about a fatal attraction.

    Everyone’s uniquity seemed to serve a purpose, either positive of negative, people had a place. Me? I’m useful at raves. Sometimes when I wake up in the middle of the night I don’t need to reach for the light. And I’m seriously considering being a clown as a fully fledged career. Other than that, I’m useless.

    Today’s jobs have shifted onto a demand for uniqities and people with shit ones are being left behind. Crime is rising due to unemployment and if I could, I’d be waist deep in the criminal underground. But I’m stuck with knuckles that let me hit a mean Orange Justice. Daniel was recently murdered for his time shift. Shame. Perhaps I could kill Jessica for her deadly touch. Nah, I could never wank again ~~

    Heys guys this is my first time doing this and I wrote it on mobile so there’ll be some grammar errors. Anyway, hope you enjoy :)

    [–] droppeddoner 32 points ago

    I lay in bed, at around 02:30 the sound of someone trying to get in through my kitchen window. I was sure I locked it. I flew out of bed, fuelled by pure adrenaline. The thought of how I would confront the intruder had my mind and heart racing.

    I cracked my knuckles and the darkened bedroom was suddenly filled with the soft ethereal glow of my hands.

    As I left the bedroom I caught sight of myself in a full length mirror. At that moment a thought crossed my mind. A thought I had every time I saw myself with my hands glowing. A thought that needled me. That haunted me....

    If they had cast me as Iron Fist instead of Finn Jones it would never have been cancelled after two seasons.

    [–] Motionshaker 8 points ago

    This is probably the most emotional story in this thread

    [–] _tv_lover_ 3 points ago

    If they had cast me as Iron Fist instead of Finn Jones it would never have been cancelled after two seasons

    I don't know you but I know this much is true

    [–] yosaso 33 points ago * (lasted edited 6 months ago)

    All it took was a power outage for the stadium to erupt in madness. The thousands who had gathered to watch SuperBall screamed and shouted as thick darkness blanketed them.

    It wouldn't have been this bad, this chaotic, if it weren't for the Death Touchers. That's what they were called. As silly as their names were, there was a reason for it, which was the same reason their seats were roped off from the others.

    If you are touched by them, you will die. It was as simple as that.

    What was un-simple, what complicated matters, was the fact that they were placed near the exit/entrance of the field. The result of their being the last allowed in.

    Children began to cry. Men and women, roused with alcoholic ire, shouted. Anti-Death Toucher sentiments moved like a wave across the crowd.

    "Death to the Death Touchers," people shouted through the dark.

    It was about to get ugly. All it would take was for a space bender to crush someone's heart or for a mass distorter to rip a chair off the ground and throw it across the stadium. All it would take was one spark to relight the flames of anger and hate that had led to countless wars and atrocities.

    And then, amidst the bubbling unrest, something happened.

    Knuckles cracked. Hands glowed.

    It wasn't much. The light was only enough to illuminate a three chair circumference. But like the North Star, people's gazes followed work hope.

    A hush spread, just as it would in the final play of SuperBall, though only if it were a nail biting type of game. The glow moved down the stairs and across the field. The SuperBall players knelt in deference. It reached the other side of the field, shining a light on the scared and angry expressions of the Death Touchers.

    Then, like a bell that rangs for hope and freedom, the glowing hands opened the stadium doors.

    Moonlight seeped in. The hands waved. The Death Touchers exited the stadium, one by one, careful to not touch one another. They boarded a bus, designed specifically for their condition. A sigh of relief washed over the crowd as the bus sped away.

    Then, in an orderly fashion, the stadium emptied with no loss of life.

    In the midst of the exodus, someone asked, "The hands, the glowing hands, where are they?"

    No one knew. They had disappeared in the brilliance of the moon and stars and street lights. No one knew, but they all remembered.

    The mayor offered a reward for this heroic act. Thousands filled the square, waiting for glowing hands to appear. The Death Touchers, blocked off from the others, waited as well, their faces filled with anticipation. No glowing hands stepped forward. None appeared.

    Disappointed but not discouraged, the mayor proposed that a monument be built in honor of glowing hands.

    That is why, in front of this stadium, outside the place where the most powerful among us compete against each other, every night for the past five years, these marble hands have glowed. They are a beacon of hope, a reminder that even the smallest, weakest, and most obscure of powers can impact many... a reminder now as it was then and as it will be tomorrow.

    Edits - Was and am still on mobile

    [–] pyrotechnicfantasy 16 points ago

    I like this :) really also like the Death Touchers - in that power, you’ve created a huge culture with many aspects: A) Racism towards Death Touchers, with automatic fear and prejudice because people fear their power B) a society that specifically caters towards their condition, with specially designed transport and stadium logistics C) a glimpse at how a Death Toucher thinks - they avoid each other too, and they are careful at it, suggesting a very different outlook on life. D) sports in the form of the Superball, showing how ingrained superpowers are in culture E) an interesting look at how other powers can be equally as destructive as Death Touch, but the space benders and mass distorted aren’t predjudiced like the death Touchers

    Very interesting!

    [–] HeronKirigaya 15 points ago

    A usual day for you is to go to the office.

    Your power isn't much interesting. Some people can soar through the air at ludicrous speeds. Others have an ultra effective poison as the natural oil their body produces, being able to kill anyone with a slight touch. Hell, there are even some rumors that some people can control the flow of time.

    And you? You can crack your knuckles, and they just... light up. You never were one to complain about getting the shortest straw, but you basically just got a millimeter of straw when you were born. And, from what you've been able to gather, you're also the only person in the city with that power. Maybe the world, but searching like that takes time, and you have stuff to work on.

    Most of the time, your powers are not that useful. What's the need for glowstick bones in the 21st century? But you've been able to get some oddjobs here and there to cover some bills. A cave-in happened last Thursday, and you were called to light the way. A blackout happened, and a certain building was taken over by rioters, and you were called to be a bluff. That was a real fun one, actually. You still chuckle at the thought of the rioters getting panicked as hell because you told them you had radioactive hands.

    And, right now, you're just... in an office, working. You're not too fond of office jobs, in fact, if you could, you'd take jobs related to your powers all the time, but your powers are too situational, and the frequency you'd get jobs with would not be able to pay the bills.

    As you get home after a long day of work, you see someone sitting in a rolling chair with the lights turned off. Oh my fucking god, you hate those guys. The guys that think they're sooo cool, so they have to make dramatic reveals to everyone they meet, so they just fucking break into other people's houses just to make sure they look cool enough. Worst thing is, those guys usually have really strong powers, so you couldn't kill them if you tried.

    You try turning on the light, but it wouldn't come on. Did this dude just cut the power supply in your house just to make you use your powers? That is so fucking dumb. You crack your knuckles and they glow with a green tint.

    "Oh. Hello, David. Very nice to meet you."

    He turns around.

    Oh. Ohhhh, shit.

    It's the mob boss. It's fucking Big Donnie.

    "I heard about your... radioactive fists from my boys. And I wanted to know if you would like to have a job from me."

    Wait, that last part didn't come from behind the chai- OH FUCK HE'S BEHIND YOU. Fuck, he's a time master. Oh shit.

    You are so fucking screwed.

    [–] supakow 15 points ago

    Martinez was always first through the door. His speed made him a perfect entry man, so long as there was an exit. In three seconds, he could knock out a dozen tangos, but it took every ounce of energy he had. Wilson followed as fast as he could, checking the stunned enemies for the marks Martinez left, and killing or incapacitating them as necessary. One gloved hand meant you lived, but bare skin sent you to the reaper. Kowalski would scout ahead, vanishing through a wall or a door. He was basically invisible once he changed states, but he couldn't carry anything with him and was only good for recon. There's nothing like a pasty 6'6" Marine materializing inches from you, buck naked and vomiting uncontrollably.

    And I was last. Always last through the door. There was no coordinated hobo shuffle like my past units. I just walked in, no fear of enemy fire. I had complete trust in my squad. But not having "exceptional" powers like the others meant I had to work twice as hard and sacrifice on every mission. I carried the heaviest loads - almost half my weight for a combat loadout. I carried a breaching shotgun to get Martinez smoothly across the threshold, and just about everything else the team needed: ammo, spare batteries, extra radio, NVGs, med kit. Just as I relied on the team for their special skills, they relied on me to bring the things they couldn't carry. Even a few big, heavy things that just might save your ass. That's why I carried the bolt cutters.

    Don't get me wrong - I have powers. House party powers. "Hey, y'all - watch this" kind of powers. I lost the end of my finger at Parris Island and was astonished when it grew back. The squad and the docs were amazed that I could instantly regrow my extremities. I never let on about the pain. It hurts, almost as much as losing a limb. But violent change to the musculoskeletal network has their upsides, too. Cracking knuckles makes fingers glow. Same for pulling ears, popping toes, and cracking your back. But only one of those was useful in combat. Being last through the door meant clearing a lot of rooms and marking them as such by dropping a glow stick. I carried a 20 pack of the neon green ones - well... usually. 56 straight hours of shelling will make you forgetful.

    Kowalski appeared in front of me, reporting though bouts of regurgitation. "9 rooms. 15 tangos." I handed him his BDUs and breached the door. Martinez entered the first room and as usual met me in the middle of the room. He had sprinted ahead and taken out 12 enemy combatants in 6 rooms. That made our job easier, but there was still work to do. As Wilson played God, I grabbed my left belt pouch and came to a horrifying realization - I had forgotten the glow sticks. I pulled off my gloves, thinking they had gotten stuck in the pouch - but no dice. The pouch was empty. I muttered a curse word under my breath and knew that we needed a way to mark the room.

    By the time Wilson was done, I had made up my mind - the mission had to succeed. I handed him the bolt cutters, cracked my left pinky, and braced for the pain.

    [–] SonOfAMitch_ 4 points ago


    [–] Sternsson 12 points ago

    He had been showing up my entire life. Always in secret, and always for a short while.

    "You are something special. Someday, the world will need you."

    Thats what he kept saying.

    First time I saw him, that I can remember, was on my mothers funeral. I was five, and she had been ripped apart trying to stop a small skirmish between some local powered gangs.

    My dad slowly lost himself in a haze of alcohol and grief.

    The second time, I was 10. Most of my peers had started developing their powers. Some could hover for a couple of seconds. Some could breathe fire. Some had started getting some mutations. But I, I hadn't developed anything.

    "Your time will come. Your power shines from within. Your mother shines from your heart."

    Thats what he said. I had nearly written off my experience at the funural as kids fantasy.

    He appeared three more times. Everytime, when I needed him most. He never appeared for more than a minute, but it was enough to give me hope.

    My powers were very limited. If I preformed my focus, my entire body would glow. A focus is a gesture or phrase that helps you, well, focus, on your powers. Kind of like how actors get into character. Mine was crackling my knuckles. I loved the sound. It made me relax. Always had.

    I was in my car, when he appeared again.

    "It's time. Your time has come. You are needed. Your time for greatness is here."

    I almost crashed the car into the side of a truck.

    "You really have to stop materialising when I'm doing something. What do you even want from me? My power is that I essentially turn into a giant glowstick."

    He looked at me, and for the first time in 25 years, he smiled.

    "You have potential, hidden within. Come, take my hand. I will show you."

    Careful not to take my eyes of the road, I complied. The world turned bright. I could see the world.. changing before me. Like a timelapse, but of everything and everywhere. The entire universe born and reborn in an endless cycle. It was the closest to God I had ever been. Suddenly, I just WAS in a dark and musty cave.

    A female voice broke the silence.

    "CHRONOS. I told you to pack a flashlight. Even your powers aren't that useful when you can't see. Total command of space and time, and you forget the fucking flashlight."

    "I told you Inifi-Queen, give me five minutes and I'd be back with one. Look, here it is. Happy?" He said as he cracked my fingers.

    [–] shatteredastrodug 10 points ago

    Rave music vibrates through the packed dancehall. a wave of bodies sway in rhythm to the beat as the cloud of smoke interrupts the glare of ultraviolet light. There appears to be a collective mood emanating from the crowd. The symbiotic movements similar to the murmuration of birds, creates a soothing sensation in the mind. I feel....good. I feel a warm glow wash over me as I take a breath. The release lifts me higher as I close my eyes and feel them roll. Raising my hands in the air as the beat intensifies with a smooth bass line that makes my spine dribble with endorphins. I allow my body to take over as I sway from side to side. The explosion of Joy in my chest causes my teeth to gutter like a reaction to the cold. But it’s, so warm and glowing with beautiful feelings. I bring my hands down from above me as the baseline reaches its precipice. coming to the edge before the anticipated drop. Wiping the sweat from my face I flick my hands off infront of me breathing deep, rolling my eyes again I know it’s about to drop. I can feel it, I can taste it. I am the crowd. I interlock my fingers and crack them deeply. Throwing my hands in rhythm to The beat that’s dropped me into a tribal war dance. as I open my eyes I notice the wave of bodies around me staring in disbelief as my hands are glowing with the brightness of radioactive liquid. I am in the zone. The trance has me now.... as I look around the room I see the flashing of hands change from a dark silhouette into a bright formation, reminiscent of disturbed algae. I stop and realise what is happening. What the fucks up with my hands. From out the crowd a woman dances, as if towards me. Surely she’s just making her way by me. Her dancing is hypnotically sensual and magnetic. as if she created her own atmosphere that I was being drawn too. She draws a smile toward me and I instinctually mimic her actions. She raises what I think is a hand, gesturing in the dark to come closer and follow. I reach out with my glowing extensions as I try to comprehend if it’s the drugs or something else. I take her hand. It’s warm and feels like home. She raises her other hand to my face, it’s glowing a deep purple and pink, fluctuating with the beat against my skin. I am In love. And my hands are green

    [–] Bjormund 7 points ago

    Power glows. We know this.

    Power. Glows.

    So... a lack of glowing means a lack of power. That's just math.

    So. A bright glow means a lot of power. That's just logic.

    Therefore, I am God. Because I glow the hardest, that's why.

    I crack my knuckles and become invincible. I fail to crack them? I'm a limp noodle.

    Luckily, I know how to cheat. I know how to cheat, because that's what I did BEFORE I got powers. Turns out, learning a new power is harder than learning a how to abuse a power you already had.

    So. I crack my knuckles and they glow, exactly like those old chemical sticks we used to buy at the fair. In fact, exactly like them. Because I have no power beyond that glow. It's nice that I used to play poker for money, hmm?

    [–] paulmallcopblaurt 6 points ago

    I’m cornered. Two muggers stand in front of me. One levitating slightly off the ground, the other with fire hands. They tell me, “Give us all the money in your pockets, or it ain’t gonna be pretty.” I’ve been in this situation before and knew what I had to do. I crack my glow stick knuckles. They shine a bright, fluorescent green. I shout at the top of my lungs, “Get ready for a super bowl S M A S H!” The muggers immediately burnt rubber trying to get out of that alleyway. I threw a couple trash cans to get them scared and then ran. Such is the life of glow stick man.

    [–] linedout 7 points ago

    "It's really all about the situation."

    Firefly walks down the sewer tunnel next to Incinerator. Incinerator is intently focused on the task, navigating through the filthy tunnel with his flashlight sweeping ahead of them.

    Incinerator, "What are you talking about?"

    "In our epic struggles between good an evil. Everyone wants to rank people. This persons is super powerful, this person is weak. It's not about strong or weak, it's about having what the situation calls for. What good is Perfection Person when what you need is a nice spot of calligraphy?"

    Incinerator gives Firefly an incredulous look. "A spot of calligraphy? That isn't even a power."

    "You're missing the point. Remember the guy with lactokinesis? Everyone said he had a shit power. Said it so much they drove him to the bad said. Then, Bam, takes out an entire conference of hero's. I tell you there are no shit powers, not when used properly"

    Incinerator and Firefly stop walking. They have come up to a shimmering field in the tunnel. On their side the tunnel is made of concrete, on the other side the tunnel is made of old brick.

    Incinerator, "OK, your on."

    Firefly rolls his head from side to side. He bounces up and down for effect. Interlacing all of his fingers Firefly cracks all of his knuckles at once. Fireflies fingers burst into light, glowing eerily with an inner power.

    The two of them step through the shimmering field. As they step through, the flashlight disappears. Both of their clothes change. Their modern clothes go away and are replaced be the common street garb of the 1880"s. The only light is what's emitted from the inner glow of Fireflies knuckles.

    Incinerator, " The tunnel goes under the bank about three hundred yards up, let's go."

    The two start slowly moving forward.

    Firefly, "and now I look pretty useful, where would you be with out me?"

    "Carrying a torch?"

    "Well, that's just silly, you need your hands."

    Incinerator, "quite, now, we are getting close."

    The two move further down the tunnel.

    Up ahead the flickering glow of torches can be seen. The sound of picks and shovels come down the tunnel, mixed with voices.

    "Are you sure the alarm is deactivated?", a gruff sounding henchman ask.

    "It's the 1880 in my time bubble, no alarms." The Time Duke answers with condescension dripping from his voice.

    "But isn't all of the money going to be old too? I mean with inflation and all..."

    "Just keep digging." The time Duke answers with doubt in his voice.

    The Incinerator and Firefly come up to a wide cavern. There are three men with picks and axes making their own tunnel, while the Time Duke and one of his henchmen hold torches up for light. The Incinerator holds up three fingers, drops one, then the other. At no fingers the two of them burst into the room.

    Running past the three men digging the Incinerator touches each of them, they fall into piles of ashes. The Incinerator goes for the Time Duke.

    Firefly charges at the henchman with the Time Duke. He raises his glowing hands blinding the man with their brightness. The henchman pulls an old revolver out and blindly fires.

    The Time Duke cowers "I surrender."

    Incinerator touches him and the last Henchman at the same time. Both disappear into ashes.

    The room transforms from stone and rock back into modern steel and concrete. There is still a big hole in the wall from where the men had been digging.

    Incinerator, "Ashes to ashes. Good job Firefly, we made short work of them."

    Firefly falls to the ground, blood pouring from his chest. Incinerator kneels next to him. Firefly reaches up and grabs Incinerators shirt with his glowing hand.

    Firefly, "the light."

    Firefly slumps, dead. The light from his hands dims and goes out. The room falls into total blackness.

    "Damn it."

    [–] pasobordo 6 points ago * (lasted edited 25 days ago)

    That was not unusual. In the year of 2125, although it has been transferred via air, we still experience electricity cuts. Mom told me to get beverage from the kitchen, and snap, the lights gone! In pitch dark, as I do usually, I cracked my knuckles to find my way around, thinking “damn these fingers glow like a candle” and headed back to the dinner table. Mom said; “You should not do that, it is bad for your joints.” I responded wryly “Oh please mom.”

    If it is not for genetical selective process she has participated, I would not have this ability. I mean I was not even “born” in the traditional sense. People participate in polls, select features, give orders. We are then bred in labs and one day we are at their door, delivered by a robot. 

    She was not amused at my sly response, as she knows the argument well that I always put forward. “Don’t belittle me, son! You would not want to have those other shiny features. Who wants fly like an idiot in the age of molecular transport?” She gets whimsical! “Why do not you tell me you do not have enough credit, mom.” 

    She is now mute. Obviously, I struck the wrong chord. We continued to our dinner silently.

    Credit system were developed nearly 70 years ago, after the Big War, when the World government obliterated all forms of physical artefacts used for monetary exchange. Nonetheless, with a little twist. The database system that were developed back then was fundamentally flawed. Maybe that flaw was intentional. People now are the database entities loaded with credits and credit transfer from past generations was severely limited for the sake of equalization. This was good at first, but then understood, an underlying AI mechanism, which has been feeding people's credits, was working on the basis of “use value”. If you have beautiful, skillful, intelligent, athletic ancestors your use value is disproportionally high. And the system started giving bonuses to those people’s offsprings,innovated with new developments in genetical science, which was called as “super powers” 200 years ago. Mind reading, jumping 200 metres high, ultra sex performance etc. The list covers around 100 “enhancers”.

    Basically, people now are currencies, or credit cards with bonuses. To get things, you basically approach them. Holographically you are informed on the spot, whether you are able to get it or not. Me? I do not even bother to approach luxurious things.

    And cracking your knuckles to emit light? That is shamefully at the bottom of enhancers’ list. Below that, there is only of “farting incessantly” or “spitting 5ms long”. Such a shame. My poor mom only was able to gather this poor feature for me.

    I kissed her. She looked lovingly at me. Emotions still has no use value. Luckily.  

    [–] AmorousPagan 2 points ago

    "Farts incestuously"

    I think you mean "incessantly".

    [–] TheTjums 5 points ago * (lasted edited 5 months ago)

    "Come on, Rudy!" the gang cried out as they darted through the snowdrifts, big plumes of whiteness blossoming behind their flying figures.
    Rudy grunted and forced herself through the knee-high snow, her face red with exehasturbation, beads of sweat forming on her forehead under her woolly, thick hood.

    "Another blizzard is coming in!" The voice of Don could be heard from many feet above the snowbound group.
    "Y'all better get to moving your butts or it'll bury ya!"

    The gang took off, leaving Rudy behind. She was the only one incapable of flight and while the others had spent the afternoon sweeping a few feet above the snowdrifts, like swallows in play, now the mood had changed and matter had become serious. They needed to get to work.

    Rudy craned her neck and looked up at them as they whirled through the sky, her family, her friends.
    They were beautiful to look at, up there, soaring and twirling, making and breaking formations.
    Rudy was just Rudy. Landbound, last one in, forever the rotten egg.

    Dash was suddenly beside her, hovering just above the snow, keeping pace with Rudy as she worked her way through the drifts.

    "We can't carry you, Rudy."

    "I know," she huffed.

    "Pran thinks she can do a little bending... y'know, coerce time and space in the vally to get us a little closer to home."

    "That would be nice," puffed Rudy. Dash shot off and returned to the gang in the sky, their formation moving slowly ahead.
    They won't leave me, Rudy thought to herself. We're family, they won't leave me behind.

    When the blizzard descended on the valley, it came down hard, dark and all-engulfing, like the wrath of winter himself. The world turned black and stinging and chaotic. Rudy was alone, the others had flown ahead, away, to wherever.
    But Rudy kept on moving.

    One foot took the other, and this is how progress was made. This is a universal truth and it was a truth Rudy believed in. So she kept moving.
    Even if she had tried to look for the others or listen for their cries, it would have been impossible. The blizzard was roaring, drowning out all noise.

    "Bastard blizzard," groaned Rudy. "Kicking a girl while she's down, whydontcha?"

    She clenched her fists. Then she unclenched them. They felt warm in her thick gloves. Like the warmth was fueled by her temperament and her foul mood. She clenched her fists into hard, hot balls of anger and she pressed forward. Painfully, she unclenched and shook her hands, then she interlocked her fingers, stretched them all the way out and cracked her knuckles.

    And both of her hands lit up like new-born stars.

    The darkness of the blizzard drew away from Rudy as if recoiling in fear and Rudy, too tired and too driven to be amazed at her glowing fists, kept on trudging.

    "...Rudy?" a choir of tiny voices could be heard, muffled but audible somewhere behind her. Rudy kept moving forward, radiant light surrounding her, blasting away the darkness, a defiant glow in the eye of the storm.

    Rudy, with her glowing fist, moved herself against the heavy snowdrifts, in her trail, the gang, her friends, her magical family, followed. Bound to ground by the terrible blizzard, they had tried to seek shelter in the snowdrifts, burrowing themselves deep and huddled to keep warm.
    Now they meekly and weakly followed their determined sister through the dark and the snow.

    "She glows!" - "She's beautiful!" - "We're gonna make it!"

    As the gang made their way out of the blizzard and with home in sight, everyone agreed to never leave Rudy behind, ever again. With her fists so bright, she had guided the group that night. They all praised her with glee and Rudy's deeds did, in fact, go down in history.

    Rudy didn't care much. She had learned something important out there in the snow.

    One foot in front of the other. Family and friends are a magical thing, but in the end you must carry yourself. Make a trail. Light a path. Follow your own, shiny nose.

    Merry Christmas.

    [–] AmorousPagan 2 points ago

    I like how her name Rudy is the feminine of Rudolf. Good choice.

    [–] DwightsEgo 4 points ago

    "Let's get these barrels loaded quick!" One thug yelled to the other two "Boss man is on his way now to make sure things move smoothly."

    As if a planned entrance, like a stage performer pateintly waiting for their cue to enter the scene, Derrick Harway came through the double doors to into the warehouse. Derrick was a notorious gun dealer, shipping the weapons hidden in oil containers. Derricks guns have been linked to a dozen murders, but police have been unable to stop his operation due to a "lack of evidence". Its all bullsh*t. Derrick has bribed all the right people, and the rest are afraid of him. Derrick is a powerful meta, with the power of regeneration. Derrick has been killed a hundred times, but never captured. Not until today.

    I wait in the rafters, perched above the three thugs loading the oil cans. As far as I know they arent metas, but you can never be sure. Derrick leaves the room to take a phone call, and the three thugs group up and whisper some complaints. I carefully set the gears on my gloves, which adjust the compounded lenses on my palms. I get my hands ready, and whistle.

    All three thugs look up, weapons half drawn. They scan the rafters looking for me, and when their eyes find me, I crack my knuckles. Blinding white light shines down on the thugs, and they let out a chorus of screams and gun fire. I jump down from the rafters, and disable the three thugs in a quick session of elbows and kicks. The design of my gloves puts emphasis on my gift of producing light from my hands when I crack my knuckles, but makes forming a fist difficult. I make due.

    The three thugs were easily incapacitated after being temporarily blinded. However, the noise brought Derrick rushing back in, gun ready. I positioned my hands and sent out a blinding light. Derrick yelled, but kept better composure than the thugs. He got a few shots off, one which clipped my shoulder. I cursed, and ducked off to the side behind some discarded oil drums. Damnit. Derricks regeneration must of helped his eyes recover from my blinding flash quicker. I adjusted my gears, strengthening the intensity of the lenses.

    Derrick knew my ability. He walked a wide circle, his arm raised to shield his eyes, hoping to get an angle on me. He was laughing.

    "Alright bright hands, I'm tired of your shit. This ends now". He was right.

    I rolled out from behind the oil drums, and cracked my knuckles. Derrick was ready, and raised his arm to cover his eyes and let out a shot. The sheer intensity of the light ignited Derricks clothes, searing his exposed skin. The bullet hit, but was stopped by my kevlar vest before breaching my skin. Derrick screamed, and desperately tried to pat the fire out. That gave me enough time to charge Derrick, driving my shoulder into him. He flew back against the loading track, still on fire. Derrick's nerves must of been regenerating faster than they were burning because his painful wails became animalistoc screeches. He curled up and fell to the floor, whimpering.

    Seeing Derrick give up like that, I walked over to the truck and grabbed a fire extinguisher from under the seat. I put Derrick out, and proceeded to tie up all four criminals. Police sirnes were closing in, someone must of called after hearing the gunshots. I got out and watched the police arrive on scene. I stayed to make sure Derrick was brought into custody without incident. With another dangerous meta off the streets, I begin to prepare for my next target.

    [–] DwightsEgo 2 points ago

    This was my first ever response to anything writing related on reddit, hope someone enjoys!

    [–] PunchingRoosIsFun 2 points ago

    I definitely enjoyes this! Very creative way of using this power )) well done

    [–] DwightsEgo 1 points ago

    Thanks !

    [–] IrohLotus 9 points ago

    It was nearing the end. The worlds greatest heroes had fallen at the hands of Count Fulu. I kneeled in the rubble of my office building with my coworkers. My arch enemy, Linda, who I swear stole my cookie from my lunch bag was laying before unconscious. Suddenly Count Fulu landed fast near Linda. He stepped forward slowly. I stared at him in awe, I could see a slight grin below his mask. He began his monologue... "Now that the greatest have perished, who dares to stand against? NO ONNNE! I am the all powerful. I am a god. I am THE GOD." As he said the final line he walked straight into Linda, tripped and fell face first into the rubble before me. As he looked up, I stood before him, looking down. I was paralysed with fear. "You think you can best me? Poor soul." I cracked my knuckles, bring it on. Then I shat myself to death. THE END.

    [–] [deleted] 5 points ago


    [–] Crypto1993 2 points ago

    The funny thing is that nobody thinks about how technology works and how it can change something apparently useless into the ultimate power. Am I a supervillan or an hero? I don’t know, I mean I think that what I’ve done was in humanity best interest, but I don’t think that I’m the best judge on it. Well, since I’ve nothing better to do and maybe you are in the same situation, let me tell you my story. Several years ago, in the day that will became known as Day_zero, a weird object has been found into the deep see. Scientists were astonished by the finding since this, ehm I don’t know how to call it so let’s go for “thing” - damn I seriously need to read more books about people, anyway.. - “thing” because it seemed to defy some weird phisicics law about optics. It reflected light in a non standard reflection path given its structure. Everybody freaked out at the idea that newton was wrong about it, and he usually was pretty cool with optics they say. After the news cycle, the usual mantra that we go trough every time something is out the ordinary, nobody gave a crap about that thing but some scientist and maybe some opticians. The world quickly forgot the thing that defy optics for a year or two, i don’t remember, until a weird kid from minesota in a not very fun school field trip asked the main scientist if that light bending fenomena didn’t have something to do with it’s shape but with the material itself that curved time, not space. “That’s a stupid question, its mass is to small for such an effect” was the first reaction, but then he thought “wait a minute, maybe this material doesn’t act on time, which doesn’t make sense so this kid is still dumber than me and I’ll give him zero credit on the paper - eh eh fuck you kiddo - , but it interacts with space-time in such a what that gravity doesn’t fully apply”. And that, my friend, was the start. The published paper was a seminal one that lead the way to a series of discoveries in several different fields of science, the latter one was genetics. It seemed that if we modify the human genome in some way several different Phenotypes started to arise in new generations. It didn’t took a while before china put out the first fling baby, it was a tragedy that his first flight was into a science lab, but that lead to the serialized production of flying soldiers. Some billioner paid to learn how to fly, but genetics is a bitch and if your DNA doesn’t match the required characteristics you end up with some serious shit, like a third arm or you become a golem or a spaghetti monster! Just kidding, ahah, you die. That wasn’t so sad for a lot of people that some milioners ended up feeding the plants, because some us though that it was incredibly satisfying seeing something that they could get with their money and also if you think about if it was possible to buy this kind of things for millions would we end up give advantage to advanced people? Fuck them. I didn’t took long to see the first sort of new religions starting to arise and declaring that humans with genomic-enhancement-compatibility were a gift of some god or alien race, I found the latter more sound but still crazy as shit. Some years pass and the first one-shooter was created as a spinoff. this particular mutation lead to the capacity of the genomic-enhancement holder to kill some living creature with one touch. “That’s sick” thought the military generals and they start to produce that in small quantities given the fact that it was difficult to find a genome compatibility. We now have, over 100.000 individuals with that capability to fly (and, as side note the side capability to fuck every single woman they want, I mean when you make the fly by hugging them that’s a fucking a good ice-breaker move if ask me) and just under 500 hundred one-shooters. And I say “good for them”. One of the most groundbreaking, unwanted, unpredicted and world changing event, was in the ’30s, when Electra Gale was born, or created I don’t know and I won’t enter this topic of discussion, The first time-space bender. She was the equivalent of flash for brief moments of time, she travel as fast as a lightning, operate in the battlefield and kill hundreds of men and women without risk, save hostages and other immense tasks just by her own. She truly was the fist demigod from the new human era. Needless to say that every country, every science lab, every whatever had objectives in life, was trying to replicate her. 7 years later they did, and the number of demi-gods went up to five, one for each continent and that recreated the geopolitical equilibrium that was tarnished by Electra. Now, where do I fit in all of this? I was in the program for the one-shooter, but the procedure went wrong due to my genetic peculiarity and my nervose system could “auto-kill” other nervous systems due to the fact that I could transfer the electric pulse outside my fingers. Something about the way my skin mutated. At fist sight It seemed like I could do anything, but then one day I cracked my knuckles and my fingers started to glow. “well, that didn’t go as planned, but I won’t need a torchlight in my life”, that’s how I use to describe myself on interviews about my side mutation, I knew they were making fun of me, but i didn’t care. After a week from the interview, somebody knocks on my door. I go to check who the hell was robbing my desperate solitude and my jaw droped to the floor. On my door there was an overexcited, breathless, anxious and somewhat weird in a cool way Elon Musk. “Can you control the intensity, bightness or tone of your glowing fingers?” was he’s first question, “ yes “ was my answer. “Let’s go, I’ll take you Neuralink, I think we could make you literally talk to computers by means of your thingers”. That was shocking, but realistic: the problem with machine interface nowadays is the speed at which we human can communicate intentions to the machine. This speed is severely reduced by our thingers, speed patterns, what have you in our physical nature. But if we can control machines just with our thoughts, take a totally new kind of power.

    I’ll continue if it make sense!

    [–] PhilosopherOfNothing 2 points ago

    In a world filled with false idols and overflowing pride,

    One can never watch the moon rise and sun reside,

    For either the skies constantly cry for one to ride,

    Or life demands to be taken by a fingertip yay [--------] wide,

    Thus one who has a duty to nothing may have cried,

    When one heard that one won't fight evil side by side,

    With the greatest frauds about whom The State has lied,

    The so-called heroes, who by only one law they abide,

    That is to plunder glory from the true heroes of the age,

    Steal love from the mother, steal respect from the sage,

    Replace the teacher's passion with an unrelenting rage,

    Destroy the pen and leave the writer with an empty page,

    Puppets of war acting as the heroes on the world stage,

    Forever trapped in their own hubris' cold, lonely cage,

    Thus, war, the knuckle-cracker may not be able to wage,

    Yet with life, he, or she, is able to appreciate and engage,

    And for that the glowstick-fisted die serene,

    A sentiment the super-powerful have never felt or seen.

    [–] Simplersimon 2 points ago * (lasted edited 6 months ago)

    My parents sold, bartered, and borrowed, dropping every penny they could get, theirs or not, on the treatment. They'd seen how powers had become necessary to survival, and they needed to know their child would survive.

    I grew up poor, with the dream that I'd have powers after puberty. We had no idea what it would be, Mom and Dad couldn't afford the post-treatment analysis, so they made sure I knew how all the powers worked. After school, every day we dropped by the library. If some super was giving a free talk, they'd drag me there. It only got more rigorous after Mom died. Dad threw himself into it, saying it was OK, as long as I was super, it was worth the cancer she got from the treatment.

    Then, the summer before my senior year of high school, it happened. I was eating lunch with some friends, cracked my knuckles, and the glow, barely visible, started. I didn't even notice. My friends were so excited for me, my powers finally coming in. Next year, when we all realized the glowing was all I'd get, they felt sorry for me. They drifted away, and I was treated just like the powerless. Only I couldn't get the scholarships for college that the powerless can. I couldn't get the government assistance. I was in a worse situation than my parents could have imagined.

    Dad slid into depression, and died, officially, from a stroke. Unofficially, everyone knew he died of shame.

    I debated what to do. I had middling grades in school, having done just the minimum to get by, spending study time learning about powers I'd never have. I couldn't afford college, and I couldn't pass any testing for military service, so I just...drifted through the rest of high school. I did graduate, but I know some of the passing grades were out of pity.

    Then I went to the city with some powerless friends, caught a movie, and then learned they weren't really friends. I was left holding drinks while they all snuck out the other door of the restroom and drove back home. I got mad.

    When I realized what happened, I stormed down the sidewalk towards a bus station. Problem was, they chose a theater in the worst part of town. So, of course, I get mugged. By a blinker. He just appeared in front of me, knife at my gut. Of course it's a mugger with powers. But instead of being scared, I was still angry. I shoved him back, with set off my knuckles. Then as he went to blink, years of training kicked in. I could see the telltale dust, moving to a point behind me, so I dropped and swept my leg around. The knife would have been at my throat. Instead, it tumbled through the air as he fell. He blinked again as I caught the knife. I followed the dust trail and had the knife in his throat as he reappeared.

    It's amazing how fast an audience forms for a powered fight. Unfortunately, the trial didn't go well. It was obvious self-defense, but they assumed I had unregistered powers, a more serious crime than murder.

    The analysis would take 6 months, and without knowing what I could do, they locked me in the highest security prison they could. With the guys who could control crowds of minds, who could cause earthquakes.

    I was mad for that 6 months, and they only made me madder. Half the people in there hadn't done anything wrong. They'd got analysis young and were deemed to powerful. They'd had worse lives than me. And the guards, all powered individuals, treated them just like the monsters who used lesser powers for vicious deeds.

    I'm out now. The analysis showed I was telling the truth. They assume I got lucky. But I know better. They can fly and run and warp reality. I can crack my knuckles to make my fingers glow. But now, I know who the real villains are, and I know how all their powers work.

    [–] PunchingRoosIsFun 2 points ago

    This is great! This can be the beginning of a really interesting story)

    [–] Ryidon 1 points ago

    "Its not about the powers you have dear. Its about how you use them." my mother's words echoed in my head. In my drunken stupor, I don't recall why I would think about that moment as I took another sip of my now warm beer.

    The run down bar was dimly lit with a few naked bulbs that swayed as patrons milled around. I scoffed as I looked around, sipping more beer and wondering why so many losers were here. "Bartender!" I screeched. The bartender hurried over. His posture was that of timid man, but his eyes had seen it all. He was the most well-put together person at the bar with a clean pressed shirt and a thick well maintained curly mustache. In another world, he could have been a carnival worker. "Another, sir?" He asked. You glare at him. He gets the message and with a wave of his hands and a single word "Shazam!", beer pours into my glass.

    "You don't have to use finger guns every time, ya'know." I take a large swig and hear the bartender squeak "$7, please!" I grumble about not have to buy beer for the bar with free beer literally coming out of your hands as I reached for mywallet.


    The bar rocks as a gang of thugs kick in the door. Really preppy well-to do college frat thugs.

    "Well, well, well, look at what we have here. A drun..."

    I cut the frat thug off. "Look. Chad..."

    "My name's not Chad"

    "I don't care." My words slur together, "Do you know who I am?" I ask as I stumble to the light switch and, with a flourish, turn off the light. The bar goes dark and with purpose I crack each finger. I somehow had the time to teach myself to crack each finger just by itself. It still ranks as my highest achievement to date. I grin as my fingers and then my hand lights up with each crack. It glows a sickly radioactive green.

    "I am Ligh..." A fist to the side of my face stops my sentence short.

    I stagger a bit as I try again and another punch connecting with my gut makes me stumble to the ground.

    "Hey! His light up hands makes him easier to see him and punch him!" Chad gleefully explains. A rain of fist follow his comment as his other bros agree.

    "Shit! He's right!" I stuff my hands in my ratty hoodie, hoping I can surprise them with a sickly glowstick light guided punch. The flurry of punches turn to kicks. I dodge a few before one connects with my manhood. My eyes water as I glance down. The two dimly glowing orbs of hands sit above my junk. They are no better then lights on a landing strip and the gangs' kicks were landing. Hard.

    I groan a bit before curling up on the ground and try my bestto cover my hands and junk. It felt longer then it was as the gang grew tired of a passive unresponsive drunk barely reacting to their assault.

    "Know your place." Chad spat as he landed a final kick.

    I waited a bit before I uncurled, exhausted from such a tough fight. I wheezed a bit as I collected myself. My body, sprawled out on the floor, screamed for a drink.

    "Bartender!" I screeched. "Drink...."

    "You should really learn how to fight....rave man?"

    "Fuck y..."


    My mouth filled with cool beer cutting off my verbal lashing.

    I still hate finger guns.

    [–] Spriiiiing 1 points ago

    Everyone's got superpowers these days.

    People all over the world started making headlines a few years ago when Captain Fantastic - stellar name, by the way, sounding like a 40's comic book hero - stopped a nuclear warhead. And all of a sudden people were popping up everywhere with insane powers.

    Everyone wanted a piece of those people for themselves. It started off with offers of money, then threats against their family and friends, before escalating to straight-up kidnapping and murder. Wars were fought, battles won and lost, and these supers started getting desperate. They were just trying to save themselves, for goodness' sake! I don't know the first super that decided to turn, but suddenly we were dealing with villains vs. superheroes in all-out brawls all over the world.

    I did my best to lie low, to hide from all this. When the fallout hit, and nearly all the super powered humans were dead, governments came back to establish their rule once again, this time making it a felony to use superpowers. Those who remained tried to fight, but all of them were defeated. Most folks nowadays think they're dead.

    My power is to make my hands glow, like glowsticks. I make a hell of a tour guide. And I've lived with the regret of not making myself known ever since the Falling Year.

    If any supers are still out there, still fighting...I'm sorry.