Years passed.
At seventeen, the boy became less a boy, but not quite a man. A real man, his father often told him, was marked by self sacrifice. The will to give away a piece of yourself for someone else was what made man more than simple beast.
Not just that.
It made man into something greater than themselves.
It made a man into a hero.
And now, the boy had a chance to prove himself.
"It's over." The boy said, his voice accented with a wheeze speckled with blood. His hero costume was a good match of colorful and military with a meshweave black bodysuit balanced out with circuit-like streaks of glowing light, almost white green. The streaks drew out an insignia of a three pointed shield on his chest - the symbol he had chosen to represent himself as a hero.
