Kingdom of Heroes (2 page)

As would be expected, a military battalion pooled from several of the various bases located throughout the state rolled into Shore City two days after the initial attack. The fight itself was short but vicious on both sides. The might of the U.S. military proved ineffective against the powers of people who could run faster than the human eye could detect, project flames from their hands, or pick up tanks with their bare hands. When The Human Fly (a man with the proportional powers of a fly, obviously) was shot between his third and fourth eyes (yeah, he had more than two) by a “cowardly” sniper, The Agent furiously declared, “No Survivors!” And with that decree, all U.S. military unlucky enough to be on the battlefield that day were ripped to shreds, burnt to ashes, frozen and shattered, or just simply found their minds shut down by a psychotic telepath.

Within hours, The Agent had his attack party ready to travel across California, destroying each of the state’s military bases in turn. More super powered individuals died in battles throughout the day, but for the most part, The Seven stood victorious. The Agent appeared on TV again that night, congratulating the government on their attempt to stop them while simultaneously noting that any more shows of violence would be met with equal and exact aggression. He also promised the people of California that they were safe.

“When The Seven and the rest of the super powered community are in charge,” he assured them, “this country will become a virtual Utopia.” And with those words, with that one simple decree, Agent America began the war.

The rest of the west coast fell with relative ease. Military bases were destroyed, and surrendering soldiers were ushered into the prisons alongside the criminals. Local law enforcement agencies were ordered to continue keeping the peace until the new governments were established. Members of the old administration found themselves either imprisoned or put to death, all depending on their level of cooperation with the new regime. Every state also brought new recruits, as people who once hid their abilities from a nation which feared them discovered a way out of the shadows.

The war pushed east, with more and more casualties occurring on both sides of the battlefield. The establishment fought hard to find weapons capable of damaging their super powered opponents, but The Agent always seemed capable to “recruit” the right soldier to solve any problem he or his collective encountered. In less than two years from the start of the war, The Seven and their soldiers pushed into Washington D.C.

The battle there was short but brutal, as the last foothold of what was once a free nation held their ground as long as they could; in the end though, it quickly became a moot point, and Washington, just like the rest of the country before it, fell to the super powered war machine. The Agent, on live TV, personally placed the President of the United States under arrest for crimes against the country, then assumed his mantle as Supreme Chancellor of the country, placing the rest of The Seven as the governing body around him. Life as the normals once knew it came to a sudden and sad conclusion, leaving the unpowered population as an unrepresented workforce for those with abilities.

But this is nothing you didn’t already know; to be honest, any history book can fill you in faster and more conclusively than I could ever hope to, and you were there for the rest. I sit here now, my only friend, writing this as my last act of life, so you can know the truth, the history which hasn’t been written in any book, of how this godless war was won; so you can know the atrocities The Seven committed to attain their lofty positions as Lords and Masters of this once great land. I’m writing this to let you know what they did, and why I’m going to make sure they understand my pain…

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SYSTEM ONLINE

SYSTEM BOOT IN PROGRESS

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SYSTEM BOOT COMPLETE

SYSTEM MOVEMENT OPERATIONAL

SYSTEM WEAPONS ONLINE

SYSTEM WEAPONS FUNCTIONAL

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TARGET: ANTHONY BARREN

LOCATING TARGET

TARGET AQUIRED

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Metro City

10 years after the war.

Anthony Barren sat on his overly stained sofa, a half drunk bottle of government issued alcohol in his hand, staring with a half awake intentness at the fireplace and the dying fire within it. Forty stories and countless other rooms in the building he called home, and this spot, this one exact spot, was the only place he could stand to be. His beard had grown too long and grey; his hair was unkempt and unwashed, and he cared about neither. It had been a long time since he had cared about anything. The liquor in his hand and the weekly hooker who was due in a few hours seemed to be the only things to even slightly pique his interest.

He had once been a hero; he had once been a man, a man he was proud to be, and now he was nothing more than the leftover broken bits of something that had once been human. Now he was nothing more than the living embodiment of shame and loathing, all that was left of a man who had once made the world proud.

He turned the bottle to his lips and took another drink.

And then he heard it: the whir of the motor, the sound of the hydraulics stirring to life, the familiar footsteps of his own mechanized suit of armor as it crossed the long hallway in his direction. Step after mechanical step, until he could clearly hear the machine’s beautiful whining and whirring, a sound that at one time had been the most beautiful thing he had ever known.

He looked back. A smile crossed his haggard face as he stared up at the Iron Knight armor which stood behind him. He turned back towards the fire and raised the bottle to his dry, cracked lips. “Not nice to take things that don’t belong to you.”

The red and black armor glinted from the firelight reflecting off of its metallic skin, standing almost seven feet tall and looking down at the man who created it. It said nothing in return.

“That particular suit you have there,” Barren said, taking another drink as he spoke, “that one is my favorite. I always kept it up here in the penthouse to remind myself of the man I used to be. To remind myself that I was once capable of great and noble things.”

He downed another drink. The red tinted reflection from the armor’s fiery skin danced across the room. “I was pretty sure I had that particular model bio locked so that it would only allow me to command it, but I guess you always were quite adept at getting around such minor inconveniences.”

“I told Psychosis all those years ago that those damn mind locks of his were never going to hold.” Barren looked back at the seven foot tall armored suit standing behind him. “And you know what? Sometimes it really fucking sucks to be right.”

The machine lowered its head down towards him, the soulless eyes, glowing red, staring at him to the point they appeared to be looking all the way through him. He held up the bottle towards the machine. “Drink?”

The armor said nothing in return.

“I take it that’s a no.” Barren turned back towards the fire and swallowed another drink. “I guess we are kind of past the point of two old friends sharing a drink together. Can’t blame you for wanting to kill me. Hell, I can’t blame any of the thousands of people that I’ve fucked over in this lifetime for wanting to kill me, but you, after the shit we did to you, I completely understand why you would want all of our heads on goddamn platters.”

He downed another drink from the bottle. “Hell, it doesn’t matter. All of the would ofs, should ofs, and could ofs in the whole fucking world wouldn’t make a goddamn bit of difference. Not now, not anymore.” Barren turned the bottle up one last time, finishing off the last of the brown liquid. He looked into the bottle, verifying for himself that it was empty. He turned back toward the machine and stared up into the metal face. “I guess there’s no time for another round?”

Without a sound, the armor shook its head from side-to-side.

“Well hell,” Barren replied, as he turned back towards the still roaring fire. “I guess we should just get this shit over with.”

The machine took a step closer to the sofa and raised the right wrist towards the back of Barren’s head. A gun barrel ejected from the wrist and settled into place with a loud click.

Barren turned back towards the armor, staring up at the machine he had created what seemed like a lifetime ago, back when he was a man, back when he had been a hero. “One thing. There’s a file within the system. It’s labeled ‘Self-Defense Protocols.’ It is a complete listing of strengths and weaknesses for every member of The Seven, just in case, you know, just in case they ever turned on me, and I had to defend myself. A cautionary tactic, but also, sadly, a necessary one.”

Barren turned back towards the fire. “You’ll need that. I don’t have to tell you the power they possess. I’m nothing, just a drunk with a knack for building things and a fancy mechanical suit, but the rest of them, they are beyond deadly. And they will kill you without hesitation, without thinking twice. But you know that already, don’t you?”

The machine pushed the gun barrel hard against the back of Barren’s skull.

“If it helps,” Barren began to say, even as he continued to face the fire, “I really am sorry for everything we did to you.”

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It doesn’t
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The gun fired, pushing a single bullet through Barren’s head. The brains of the man who had once been The Iron Knight splattered onto the fireplace and the adjacent wall. The liquor bottle rolled out of his hand and landed on the floor, rolling to a stop next to several bloody pieces of skull, and the empty body collapsed against the couch, crimson blood soaking the expensive material.

The armor walked out a door and stood on a balcony, the just setting sun reflecting from the suit’s metallic skin. A compartment on the left wrist opened, revealing a series of buttons and gadgets. After pushing several of the buttons and marking a set of coordinates, the machine disappeared, leaving the body of Anthony Barren behind without a second glance.

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Journal Entry

[Found on page 53]

Note: The following is a news story published approximately twenty years ago in an old daily paper called The US Now.

A man in a red and black armored suit has been seen destroying terrorist cells throughout the Middle East. The man, calling himself The Iron Knight, is using a machine capable of firing machine gun rounds from its wrists and rockets from launchers on its back. According to several reports, the man is trying to follow on the heels of more recent successful superheroes such as Agent America in Metro City.

But while The Agent has kept his crime-fighting duties isolated to the local level, this Iron Knight is taking the fight to all of America’s enemies. So far, the man in the armor has targeted several alleged terrorist outposts and training centers in Afghanistan, Iran, and Iraq. But the Iron Knight has done more than just fight America’s enemies. When a French shipping freighter found itself under siege from Somali pirates, the Iron Knight, after picking up the ship’s distress signal, intervened and saved the lives of twenty crewmen.

Atlantic City, New Jersey resident and MIT graduate Anthony Barren takes claim for the invention of the armor itself, but he refused to confirm or deny if he was the man beneath the red and black helmet. Barren claims to have obtained from the M-Virus the ability to create any invention he can think of or imagine. Before this revelation, Barren was known more for his good looks and party life style, having built himself into a minor celebrity, famous for dating billionaire debutantes, famous actresses, and super models.

While the claims of Barren’s powers haven’t been tested or proven, his advanced scientific skills and high intelligence are both well documented from his time at MIT. Currently though, the technology inherent within the Iron Knight armor seems far more advanced than anything currently available, which may add validity to Barren’s story of being the super powered individual who created the suit. But now, without knowing who is in the suit or who created it, we do know we have a hero fighting for America throughout the world whose name is The Iron Knight. And he is on our side.

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Super Powered Containment Unit #3

Also known as “The Hole”

Located one hour from Metro City

Main holding cell placed approximately 1000 ft below ground

“Light up containment unit 5,” he heard the voice yell. It was one of the usual voices, a guard probably, too deep and scruffy to be one of the scientists or doctors. “Light up 616.”

616. That was him, or at least what they called him. He had a name, but it was gone from his memory, at least for the moment. Everything always seemed foggy, a fog mixed with flashes of the voices around him.

“This is him,” another voice said. This one did belong to one of the doctors, a female doctor, pretty from what he could remember, short brown hair. She had been polite to him, almost apologetic. He always liked hearing her voice.