Chapter 2: Isekai'd
The Devil lounged with his dark eyes fixed on Tyson as a holographic display materialized between them, showing various origin choices for villains.
Rising Star
Powerhouse
Mastermind
"Powerhouse," Tyson said, reaching out to tap the glowing option. The selection pulsed with an ominous red light.
Powerhouse (Origin)
Powerhouses are what most people think of first when superpowers come to mind. Equal parts villain and sex icon, you win people over with raw presence, forming teams and occasionally even seducing heroes to your side.
[Free] Rescue Romance (Perk)
Villains are larger-than-life figures who inspire fear and trepidation. They can also raise other feelings, ones best demonstrated behind closed doors. You're about as charismatic as villains get, with a winning smile and a natural charm perfect for flirting with love interests or bantering with enemies, and those charms are most effective when performing villainous deeds. Help someone out and you'll take a big step to winning their heart and maybe even convincing them to turn to your side.
[Free] World of Cardboard (Perk)
Many villains prefer to take heroes down non-lethally, and some will even refuse to kill. This is easier said than done, but you've trained extensively to bring your enemies down without killing them and have mastered an arsenal of techniques to secure defeated foes. Even if you're going all-out you can easily pull your punches just enough to avoid killing opponents and limit collateral damage without impairing your performance. Once your foes are beaten you can be sure they'll stay beaten instead of getting a second wind or escaping to cause more trouble simply by tying them up. Whether you slap on a pair of handcuffs or lock them down with your superpowers, your bonds are impossible for defeated foes to break or escape without help.
[Free] Symbol of Anarchy (Items)
Whether emblazoned on his costume or beamed into the night sky, a villain's emblem is a symbol to strike fear into the hearts of do-gooders or inspire hope in those aligned with you. This symbol is an image of your creation which does all that and more when embellished on your belongings because it magnifies your presence and charisma. When worn on a costume it makes you instantly identifiable to anyone who's so much as heard of you, making imposters trivially easy to spot by their lack of presence. It echoes your charisma in your absence and can broadcast it far and wide. Of course, those who've felt your presence more intimately might also feel more amorously inspired by such a symbol…
[Free] Artifact of Power (Items)
Capes rarely rely on powers alone. Like heroes and villains of ancient myth, they often possess unique or magical items with special powers, such as an invincible shield or a unique helmet that blocks psychic powers. You've acquired one of these magical or technological devices. It possesses a special quality such as indestructibility or magically enchanted and secondary use of a more perverse nature. For instance, you might have an invincible shield that resonates with enemy attacks and vibrates strongly enough to stun your attacker with a burst of pleasure, or you might have a magical whip that suppresses the powers of those wrapped by it.
"And here I thought you might pick something more subtle letting you avoid direct confrontation. Given your... reluctance to embrace true villainy." The Devil's voice carried an undercurrent of amusement.
"That's exactly why I chose it," Tyson said.
The Devil's eyebrows raised. "Do tell."
"The strongest person in the room doesn't need to prove anything. They can afford to show mercy." Tyson met the Devil's gaze. "When you have overwhelming power, you get to choose how to use it. I can protect people without killing them. Stop threats without destroying cities."
"A gentle giant approach?" The Devil's laughter echoed through the chamber. "How delightfully naive."
"Not naive. Strategic." Tyson gestured to the hologram. "Rescue Romance. If I have to be a villain, I can use that. Build connections. Maybe even turn some heroes to my side."
"By playing the noble villain?" The Devil leaned forward, his throne creaking. "The honorable opponent?"
"By being genuine." Tyson's voice carried conviction. "The best lies have truth at their core, right? Well, I genuinely want to protect people. Being a Powerhouse lets me do that, even as a villain."
"And when the time comes to truly commit villainy?"
"Then I'll do what needs to be done." Tyson's expression hardened. "But I'll do it my way." he said, before turning to study the options for superpowers.
Elemental
Magic
Parasite
Technology
His finger hovered over each choice before settling on Elemental. The selection flared bright red, casting crimson shadows across the obsidian walls.
[Free] Superpower: Elemental (Perk)
The world contains many elemental forces, from fire, water, wind, and earth to gravity and magnetism, and many supers have learned to bend those forces to their will. Your power gives you control over one such element and allows you to command it, even in ways that seem unnatural or physics-defying. A master of fire might conjure up flames hot enough to melt steel or turn his body into plasma and soar through the sky on a jet of flame, while a master of electricity might levitate metal objects with magnetism and hurl lightning bolts like javelins. Such power isn't free, however. Just like a muscle you can strain yourself or run out of energy if you overuse your abilities. Your powers also grow much stronger if it has more energy to draw on, so being turned on can multiply your power several times. Broader elements are also much harder to master; for example, a user of magnetism might need an entire lifetime to gain complete control over their power.
The Devil conjured a drink, swirling it. "Another interesting choice. Not the versatile potential of Magic, or the adaptability of Technology. Not even the growing strength of a Parasite."
"They all have drawbacks." Tyson crossed his arms, his posture confident. "Magic needs rituals and ceremonies to reach its full potential. Technology breaks down and needs maintenance and supplies. You run out of ammo or power cells at the wrong moment, you're done."
"And the Parasite?" The Devil's teeth gleamed. "Such potential for corruption. For true villainy."
"A Parasite needs constant feeding." Tyson shook his head. "It can leave you vulnerable, maybe even abandon you for another host. Plus, I don't need some alien creature whispering in my head, trying to influence my choices."
The Devil's claws tapped against his glass. "But Elemental powers have limitations also. They can be countered, contained."
"Every power can be countered. But Elemental powers are natural. Instinctive. Once you master them, they become part of you. No equipment to maintain, no rituals to perform, no symbiote to feed. Just pure power, ready whenever you need it."
"I want to know more about how these powers work. The description mentions they grow stronger with... certain conditions. How exactly does that function?"
The Devil's laugh filled the chamber. "Arousal amplifies power. The more excited you become, the stronger your abilities grow. A rather interesting quirk, wouldn't you say? Perfect for a villain. Additionally, if you're in an environment where the element is strong, say in the ocean with a water element, you'll be significantly stronger."
Tyson studied the display again. "This isn't just about raw power. It's about versatility. I need to pick an element that can protect as well as it can harm. Something that works with my plan to be a different kind of villain."
"Such careful consideration." The Devil's eyes glowed with amusement. "One might think you're taking this seriously."
"I made a deal." Tyson met the Devil's gaze. "I intend to fulfill it. But like I said, I'll do it my way. And picking the right element is crucial to that."
The Devil replied, "Oh, YOU don't get to pick. Limited power remember. I just give a push and the universe answers my call however it sees fit. The same will happen with your Artifact of Power."
Tyson frowned but he couldn't argue with the Devil. Looking over the companion options he easily made his selection.
Fire from the Stars
Nevermore
Golly Gee!
He selected Fire from the Stars.
[Free] Fire from the Stars (Companion)
When war came to their homeworld these two alien princesses fled and came to Earth in search of refuge from their enemies. Luckily, they found you shortly after landing and latched on to you to be their guide on this strange new world. Though twins, their personalities are opposites. The younger is sunny and optimistic, perhaps even naive, while the elder has a more cynical and ruthless disposition and could easily be lured into villainy. Despite their differences, they're as close as sisters can be, maybe even as close as lovers. Both girls possess the Alien powerset and their powers recharge from both sexual activity and ultraviolet light, so they're quite fond of skimpy outfits and naked sunbathing between battles. They're also highly empathic and responsive to emotions, yours especially thanks to the close bond they've formed with you. Both girls occupy a single companion slot.
"You chose that one faster than the others." The Devil said swirling his drink.
"It's a no-brainer." Tyson shrugged. "The other options are single companions, this one has two. Why choose one when I can have both?"
"Pragmatic." The Devil's lips curled into a smile. "Though I suspect there's more to your choice than simple mathematics."
"They're refugees." Tyson's voice softened. "Running from a war, lost on Earth. That means they'll understand what it's like to be dropped into a strange world. Plus, their powers recharge from ultraviolet light. That's sustainable, predictable."
"And the other method of recharging?" The Devil's eyes glinted with mischief.
"That's their business."
"Sure it is." The devil said, unconvinced.
Tyson crossed his arms. "The point is, having two companions means backup, someone to watch your blind spots."
"The elder sister's cynical nature doesn't concern you?"
"Everyone's cynical about something." Tyson gestured at the hologram. "It says they're close despite their differences. That means they balance each other out. The younger one's optimism probably keeps the elder from going too dark. The elder's caution probably keeps the younger from being too trusting."
"And their empathic nature?" The Devil leaned forward. "Having companions so attuned to your emotions could be... complicated for someone playing the villain."
"Or it could be perfect. They'll know I'm genuine when I help people. That I'm not just playing a role. And when I have to do villain things, they'll understand the conflict behind it."
"Such confidence." The Devil's laughter echoed through the chamber. "You think you can maintain that delicate balance? Being both protector and villain?"
"I think having companions who understand nuance, who can sense the truth behind actions, is exactly what I need." Tyson's voice carried conviction. "Plus, they're aliens. They might have a different perspective on Earth's hero-villain dynamic altogether."
"Before we proceed, are there any other purchases you'd like to make?" The Devil swirled his drink.
Tyson's brow furrowed. "Actually, yes. But first, a question. I chose the Powerhouse origin. It comes with discounts toward similar perks, correct?"
"Indeed." The Devil's claws clinked against his glass. "There is a selection of Perks and Items discounted for each Origin."
"Can I choose more than one Origin, or purchase another?"
"No." The Devil's response was flat, definitive.
"In that case…" Tyson trailed off as he made a selection.
[400 CP] Kiss of Life (Perk)
Everyone knows that few things heal a broken hero like love, but failing that lust is an excellent substitute. Genuine affection and pleasure both massively accelerate the healing of wounds and ailments of all sorts, whether by rubbing healing oils on scarred bodies, holding them close when the terrors come at night, or simply helping them feel whole again. Even if you were to come home riddled with bullets or infected with an alien virus, a night spent in the arms of a lover will have you walking again by morning, and if you can squeeze in some sexy time you'll be ready to give those crooks some quality payback by the afternoon. This benefits not only you but also any target of your affection. No matter how dark the night may be, so long as you have each other all wounds will heal and you'll face the coming dawn together.
Character Points: 1600
Before the Devil could ask, Tyson gestured at his latest selection. "If I'm going to play the villain, there needs to be a good reason for the heroes not to go after me too hard. Even if my methods are questionable, everyone wants to protect the healer."
The Devil's eyes narrowed. "Interesting strategy. Though healing powers seem an odd choice for a villain."
"Not really." Tyson's voice took on the confident tone of someone explaining game mechanics. "It's a staple in MMOs. The healer is always the priority target, but also the one everyone wants to recruit. Take them out first, and the whole team falls apart. Keep them alive, and your team stays in the fight."
"And you think this translates to real-world heroics and villainy?"
"Think about it. Heroes get hurt. A lot. I don't know how rare healing powers are in this world. But assuming they're not a dime a dozen, what if there was someone who could heal almost anything? Someone who could get you back in the fight in hours instead of weeks?"
The Devil swirled his drink. "Someone like you?"
"Exactly. Even if they see me as a villain, they'll think twice about taking me down permanently. Because the next time one of their friends is dying, they might need me. Plus, it fits with my whole approach. I can help people without compromising my position as a villain."
"By healing their wounds?" The Devil's voice dripped with amusement. "Through rather intimate means?"
"That's just efficiency." Tyson crossed his arms. "The description says genuine affection works best, but other methods work too. Either way, it's faster than conventional medicine."
"And the fact that it requires close contact?" The Devil's teeth gleamed. "Physical intimacy?"
Tyson shrugged. "I'm offering a service. How they choose to receive it is up to them. Some might prefer a longer recovery time over getting intimate with a villain. Others might decide it's worth it. Either way, I'm not forcing anyone."
"I played an alt that was a healer in ForeverQuest... the game version, not our match." Tyson's expression grew serious. "I know how valuable they are. If I'm going to be a villain, having healing abilities gives me options. Ways to help without compromising my role."
"And if heroes start relying on your healing?" The Devil raised an eyebrow. "Becoming dependent?"
"Then they'll have to weigh that against whatever I do as a villain." Tyson met the Devil's gaze. "Maybe it makes them hesitate before trying to take me down. Maybe it gives them a reason to try talking first. Either way, it's leverage that doesn't require hurting anyone."
"A healer villain." The Devil's laughter filled the chamber.
"Now," Tyson leaned forward, "is anything stopping me from purchasing the Artifact of Power Item again?"
The Devil fell silent, his dark eyes narrowing as he considered the question. Finally, he answered, "No."
"So to clarify." Tyson's lips curved into a slight smile. "I can purchase multiple Artifacts of Power for only 50 CP?"
"Correct." The word seemed to echo through the chamber.
"That's broken." Tyson straightened, his confidence growing. "I'll take three more Artifacts of Power."
Character Points: 1450
The Devil's wicked smile spread across his face, revealing rows of sharp teeth. "I think you'll do nicely."
"You don't seem surprised I found this loophole." Tyson studied the Devil's expression.
"Surprised?" The Devil's laughter filled the chamber. "My dear boy, finding loopholes is what villains do. You're already learning."
"This isn't being villainous." Tyson crossed his arms. "It's being a smart gamer. Four artifacts means four different tools, four different approaches to problems."
"Four different ways to wreak havoc." The Devil's eyes glowed with amusement.
"Four different ways to control situations." Tyson corrected. "The more options I have, the less likely I am to need lethal force."
"Always thinking of ways to avoid true villainy." The Devil shook his head. "Yet using villainous thinking to do it."
"To thoroughness," the Devil agreed, raising his glass in response.
His lips curled in a sly grin, baring the points of his fangs. With a flick of his clawed hand, he hurled his wine glass at Tyson's face.
Tyson reacted on instinct, throwing up his arms to shield himself.
— The Devil's Villain In A Lewd Superhero World —
Surprised to feel no liquid or glass hitting his skin, Tyson slowly lowered his hands from his face and opened his eyes. He had to dig himself out of layers of clothing and rags. He found himself seated on a worn, blue fabric seat. Glancing around in confusion, he noticed a few fellow passengers giving him curious looks, likely reacting to his sudden startled motion. Looking down, he took in his disheveled appearance and realized, he looked like a vagabond. He couldn't help but smile. Really staring from the bottom this time.
The gentle swaying of his seat and rhythmic clacking sound reverberating through the train cabin indicated he was aboard some sort of railcar. Squinting up at the sign above the door at the far end, he could make out the words "Metro-North."
A feeling of unease washed over Tyson. Only moments before, he had been seated across from the Devil himself. Now, he was transported onto a commuter train. He shifted in his seat, muscles tensed, unsure what to expect next. Gazing out the dingy train window, he squinted to see past the grime and scratches obscuring his view. In the distance, the jagged silhouettes of skyscrapers rose up from the horizon, backdropped by the hazy morning sky. As the train rumbled onto an aged metal bridge, Tyson caught glimpses of weathered signs.
Harlem River...
Broadway Bridge.
The names sparked recognition in his mind. Harlem was a neighborhood in Manhattan. He was in New York City.
The entire bridge groaned and shuddered beneath the weight of the packed commuter train. Tyson gripped his seat as the train squealed deafeningly, braking hard and fast. Through the scratched plexiglass window beside him, he spotted the Harlem River's murky brown waters churning below the graffiti-tagged concrete pillars. The train jerked to an abrupt halt, its passengers lurching forward in their seats.
A businessman in a wrinkled suit checked his watch. "What's the holdup?"
"Probably signal problems again." said a woman in scrubs clutching her travel mug.
Tyson stretched his arms, his knuckles brushing against the overhead luggage rack.
"Anyone else having phone issues?" A college student waved her dead phone in frustration.
Around the car, passengers pulled out devices, each meeting the same fate. Screens were blacked out, leaving only confused mutters and growing agitation in their wake.
"This is ridiculous." The businessman stood, pacing the narrow aisle. "Some of us have meetings to get to."
Through the window, Tyson watched a flock of pigeons take sudden flight from the bridge's steel girders. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, a familiar sensation from his gaming days when a boss battle was about to begin.
An older woman fumbled with her tablet. "Even my e-reader won't turn on. What in the world?"
The train's overhead lights flickered, casting intermittent shadows across worried faces. Outside, car horns blared from the traffic deck below, their angry chorus rising through the morning air.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the conductor's voice crackled through failing speakers. "We are experiencing technical difficulties. Please remain seated while we..."
Static consumed the rest of the message. The air conditioning sputtered and died, leaving the car in uncomfortable silence broken only by the sound of nervous breathing and rustling clothes.
A teenager near Tyson pulled out his earbuds checking to see why they'd shut off.
"Maybe it's solar flares," someone suggested from the back of the car.
"In New York City? Please." The businessman had given up pacing and now stood by the emergency exit, peering through the window.
The train car creaked, a low metallic groan that vibrated through the floor. Several passengers grabbed their armrests, exchanging worried glances.
"That didn't sound good." The nurse in scrubs stood up, moving toward the window.
A child pressed her face against a window, pointing. "Mommy, why is the water moving funny?"
Tyson followed her gaze. The Harlem River's surface rippled in an unnatural pattern like someone ran invisible fingers through dark water.
The businessman pulled at his collar, sweat beading on his forehead despite the failed air conditioning. "It's got to be construction. They're always doing work on this bridge."
"All our phones dying at once isn't construction," the college student countered.
Another metallic groan echoed through the car, longer and deeper than before. The train shifted slightly, causing several passengers to gasp.
"We should contact the MTA," an elderly man suggested, his cane tapping nervously against the floor.
"How?" The businessman gestured at their dead phones. "Smoke signals?"
The train rocked again, more violently this time. Outside, car horns from the lower deck became more insistent, a cacophony of mechanical panic rising from below.
"We need to contact someone," the nurse said, her professional calm starting to crack. "There has to be a way to radio for help."
"The conductor's radio is probably dead," the teenager pointed out. "Whatever's killing our phones probably fried that too."
The businessman loosened his tie. "Well, we can't just sit here waiting for..."
His words cut off as every window in the train car suddenly vibrated in unison, producing a high-pitched tone that made passengers cover their ears. The sound built in intensity, rising to a painful crescendo before stopping abruptly.
In the silence that followed, someone whispered, "What was that?"
A deep thrumming filled the air, vibrating through the train car's metal frame. Through the grimy windows, massive shadows crawled across the bridge, darkening the morning sky. Tyson's jaw dropped as he watched sleek, metallic ships emerge from the clouds, their hulls gleaming in the morning sun.
"Holy shit," the teenager breathed, phone forgotten in his slack grip.
The ships spread across the Manhattan skyline like a swarm of deadly insects, their angular forms blocking out the sun. One vessel positioned itself directly above the Broadway Bridge, what could only be weapon ports glowing with sickly green energy.
The businessman stumbled back from the window. "This can't be happening."
A blast of emerald light struck the bridge's support structure. The entire span shuddered, steel groaning under the assault. The train cars shifted as the tracks beneath them began to warp and twist.
"We're going to die," someone screamed from the back of the car.
Streaks of red and gold cut through the sky as the first… heroes arrived.
The elderly woman with the tablet set her device down carefully. "Well, I suppose I can't stay retired forever." She stood up. Walking to the back of the train car, she planted her foot against the emergency exit and kicked. The door flew off its hinges.
"What are you doing?" The businessman called after her.
She turned back, a slight smile on her weathered face. "Helping." Without another word, she jumped down onto the tracks. Placing her hands against the rear of the train car, she pushed. The entire train began to inch forward, metal wheels screaming against warped rails.
More heroes appeared from the Bronx side of the bridge. A massive form began reinforcing the bridge's supports with pillars of stone. Two women, little more than a blur, darted between cars on the traffic deck below, evacuating trapped civilians.
A high-pitched whine filled the air as the alien ships charged their weapons. Green beams of concentrated gravity energy lanced out, catching several flying heroes in their paths. One tried to dodge but was caught in the crossfire. The heroine's plasma aura flickered and died as she plummeted toward the river.
"No!" One of the other heroes shouted as he dove to catch her, but another beam struck him. His silver form crumpled like tissue paper before disappearing beneath the murky waters.
The alien vessel above the bridge adjusted its aim, targeting the heroes on the ground. The massive man reinforcing the bridge saw the blast coming and raised a stone wall to protect himself. The gravity beam compressed his stone pillar into dust, leaving nothing but a crater in the bridge deck. But it served its purpose, protecting the hero.
One of the speedsters screamed as her twin was left in the ground, smoking, her costume in tatters after being struck by a flash of green light. She stood frozen for a moment before another beam did the same to her.
The elderly woman pushing the train grunted with effort as the tracks continued to buckle. "This isn't good."
More heroes arrived, only to be systematically cut down by the precise alien attacks. A hero in powered armor tried to stabilize a failing support column but was forced to engage the ship after several beams were sent in their direction. Three heroes working together to evacuate a school bus were laid low in a single blast.
Through the window, Tyson watched as the alien ships methodically targeted anyone trying to help. The bridge continued to groan and shift, each blast from above weakening its structure further. The elderly woman's strength was keeping their train from sliding backward, but the tracks ahead were becoming more twisted with each passing second. A massive explosion rocked the bridge as an alien blast destroyed a major support column. Cars on the lower deck began sliding toward the gap, their horns blaring in panic. Two more heroes tried to fly in to help but were immediately targeted.
The businessman pressed himself against the far wall of the train car. "They're not just attacking. They're hunting the heroes down."
Outside, the elderly woman's feet left grooves in the wooden railroad ties as she continued pushing against the train's weight. Her face showed strain as she watched more heroes fall to the precise alien attacks.
A young hero, barely more than a teenager in a homemade costume, flew up from the Harlem River. Green light flashed, and he was falling toward the water before he could even attempt a rescue.
The alien ships maintained their positions, their weapons tracking and eliminating any superhuman response with terrifying efficiency. The bridge's structure continued to deteriorate as blast after blast weakened its supports. Through the chaos, the screams of trapped civilians rose from the traffic deck below, punctuated by the sounds of twisting metal and shattering concrete. The train car shuddered as a support beam beneath the tracks gave way. The elderly woman's muscles strained as she fought to keep the train from sliding backward.
A blast struck near the tracks, sending vibrations through the train car. The child clutched her mother tighter. "Why isn't anyone stopping them?"
"Because they're not letting anyone get close enough to try," Tyson answered.
Another support cable snapped with a thunderous crack, whipping through the air like a metal serpent. The bridge's remaining structure groaned under the shifting weight. Concrete chunks broke free from the deck, plummeting into the churning river below.
"The supports won't last much longer." The elderly woman's voice strained with effort. Her feet dug deeper grooves into the wooden railroad ties as she fought to keep the train from sliding backward.
A massive beam struck the bridge's main tower. Steel beams twisted and warped, their molecular structure compromised by the alien weapon. The entire span shifted, causing the train to lurch violently.
The businessman stumbled toward the front exit. "We need to get out of here!"
Tyson looked at the clear path through the rear exit. The elderly woman was alone out there, fighting to save everyone while they ran. The tracks were breaking away, but he could still reach her. He just had to move now.
More support cables gave way, their ends flailing wildly through the air. The train tracks began to separate from the main bridge structure, bolts shearing under the immense stress.
"Move!" The nurse grabbed the teenager's arm, pulling him toward the front exit. "Everyone out, now!"
Passengers scrambled from their seats, shoving past each other in their desperation to escape. A man in a construction vest fell, only to be trampled by those behind him. The child screamed as she was torn from her mother's grasp by the surging crowd.
Tyson lunged toward the rear exit, shouldering past the crowd still pushing toward the front.
"Hold on!" He called out to the elderly woman. Her arms trembled as she braced against the train's massive weight.
The bridge deck buckled, causing the train car to tilt at a sickening angle. Outside, the elderly woman's feet slid backward, leaving deep gouges in the wooden ties.
"It's not going to hold!" She shouted over the sound of twisting metal. "Everyone get out of here!"
There was an eerie shifting sound and a flash of green light just as Tyson reached the exit. He saw a figure in a suit, equal parts uniform, and armor, materialize in the flash. He realized the aliens were transporting down. This was a full-out invasion.
The alien soldier pointed his futuristic-looking rifle at the old woman. Tyson knew if she went down they'd all be in trouble. The soldier ignored him, dismissing him as a threat. The woman couldn't defend herself while holding the train.
He grabbed a loose metal bar from the tracks and swung it at the soldier's weapon arm. It didn't crack the armor, but it was enough to knock the weapon off target and force the rifle out of the soldier's hand onto the ground. Tyson grabbed the dropped rifle and pointed it at the soldier. Luckily it wasn't as complicated as it looked, the rifle spit out a green beam of energy. It penetrated the alien armor and killed the soldier.
The armored figure collapsed in a heap. Tyson let out a shaky breath, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He looked up to see the elderly woman giving him an approving nod before refocusing her efforts on the train.
More flashes of light preceded the arrival of two more alien soldiers, their weapons trained on Tyson. He pointed the scavenged rifle at them and fired two quick blasts from the rifle.
Looking up, he noticed more transports locking onto their location. They were running out of time.
"We have to move, now!" He called to the elderly woman.
She shook her head, face tight with exertion. "I have to keep the train from sliding while there are still people aboard."
Tyson wanted to argue but knew she was right. The sounds of screaming and panic still echoed from the passenger car.
"I'll buy you as much time as I can," he said. "Just tell me when everyone's clear."
The woman gave him a grim smile. "I will. Now go on, hero. We're all counting on you."
Tyson snorted at the irony then, he turned and sprinted down the crumbling bridge span, rifle gripped tightly in his hands.
Skidding to a stop near a collapsed section, he took aim at the alien ships methodically blowing apart the bridge. He fired off a few shots, more to get their attention than actually damage it from this distance. As expected, green energy built along its forward arrays as it targeted Tyson.
He dove and rolled behind a ruined vehicle just as a beam struck the pavement where he'd been standing. The scorched asphalt smoked around him as he scrambled to his feet. He needed to draw them away from the train.
Weaving between abandoned cars and debris, Tyson fired haphazard shots at the alien ship in pursuit. He knew he stood no chance of damaging it, but he wasn't trying to. He just needed to be enough of a nuisance to keep the ship distracted.
The ship fired again, two beams converging melted through a taxi, leaving glowing holes in its chassis. Tyson laughed despite himself.
Darting through tangled wreckage and around smoldering craters, Tyson led the enemy vessel further down the bridge span. He glanced back to see flashes of light as more soldiers were transported onto the tracks near the train. His heart sank, but he knew he had to keep leading this ship away. It was the only chance those people had.
Ahead, he spotted a school bus perched precariously near the edge of a collapsed section, its rear wheels hanging out over empty space. Tyson got an idea. Running toward it, he fired at the alien ship for good measure.
"Yeah, that's right. Come get some!"
The ship rotated to bring its weapons to bear. Energy built along its forward arrays. Tyson braced himself. At the last second, he dove behind the brightly colored bus, using it as a shield.
Twin beams of gravitation energy slammed into the bus's armored flank. Tyson gritted his teeth against the noise and heat washing over him. The beams penetrated the rear of the bus, compromising its structure. With a metallic groan, the back half of the vehicle tore free and tumbled into the river far below along with the section of the bridge it sat upon.
Tyson rose from behind his makeshift barricade. The front half of the bus was partially melted, but it had done its job.
The ship rotated its weapons toward the front half of the bus just as Tyson pointed the stolen rifle and fired right into one of the ship's glowing energy arrays. Something exploded in a shower of sparks and green fluid.
Tyson punched the air. "Boom! How do you like them apples?"
The ship listed to one side, trailing smoke from its damaged weapon system. But it was far from finished. Tyson's excitement evaporated as ports along the ship's hull spiraled open. Dozens of small, spherical drones began pouring out.
"Uh oh."
Tyson turned and ran as the drones gave chase. He felt the heat from their blaster fire at his back. The sidewalk beneath his feet disintegrated as shots impacted all around him.
The ground fell out, and Tyson fell with it. The rail portion of the bridge was on the upper span. He fell 20 feet to the lower level with all the passenger cars. Tyson did his best to roll with the landing, but he still felt the impact on his ankles and knees. Rising to his feet, he felt nothing was broken, though he knew he'd be sore the next day.
The lower level offered him a brief respite from the direct fire of the ship and the harrying drones. Tyson looked around. Thanks to the heroes' earlier efforts most of the civilians were evacuated. However, there were still a few stragglers. And also a few downed heroes. He saw the two speedster women from earlier. Both were still lying on the ground. He thought about his perk Kiss of Life. Did he have time to get to them? Looking around, he wasn't in immediate danger. He made his way to where they fell.
The first speedster lay crumpled against a concrete barrier, her costume smoking and torn. Tyson knelt beside her. Gently turning her over, he saw that her costume was torn and smoking, the fabric barely clinging to her slender frame. Her eyes were closed, her face pale. Pressing two fingers to her neck, Tyson let out a breath of relief as he felt the steady pulse beneath her skin. Though faint, it was there. She was alive, if only just barely. The speedster's breathing came in short, ragged gasps, a worrying wheeze in her chest with each inhale. By all appearances she was in poor condition, teetering on the brink. Tyson knew he had to act quickly if there was to be any hope of saving her.
The sounds of battle raged around them, punctuated by explosions and the whine of alien weapons. Time was running out.
"I'm sorry about this," he muttered, though she couldn't hear him.
Another explosion rocked the bridge. Concrete dust rained down from above. The speedster's breathing grew more labored, her chest barely rising with each shallow gasp.
Hesitating meant death.
He had already watched too many heroes fall today. The woman's pulse fluttered weakly under his fingers. Her skin felt cold, growing colder by the second.
Tyson cradled her head gently, supporting her neck. "I won't let you die when I can prevent it."
He placed his hands gently on her chest, feeling the stuttering rise and fall, and the soft mounds beneath his palms. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers in a tender kiss. A soft glow emanated from his hands and mouth as healing energy flowed from him into the heroine's battered body. The speedster's lips were cool beneath his, but he thought he felt a hint of warmth returning as his power worked its way through her system.
Tyson's eyes fluttered shut as he focused on the transfer of energy. He could feel the damage within her, the shattered bones and torn muscles knitting back together under the influence of his power. His heart ached at the thought of her pain, and he poured more of himself into the kiss, willing her to heal, to live.
Her body shuddered beneath him, a gasp escaping her lips as the healing energy surged through her. The glow intensified, casting a soft light over the wreckage of the bridge.
Tyson's hands moved of their own accord, tracing the contours of her body, feeling the warmth return to her skin. He felt her lips begin to respond to his kiss. There was a tentative pressure, a flicker of life that sent a jolt of hope through him. Her tongue began to explore his, timid at first. The taste of her was sweet, tinged with the metallic tang of blood that his power was rapidly purging from her system. His groping became more fervent, squeezing her breasts, running his hand down her abs, feeling the softly defined muscle.
When he finally pulled back, color had returned to her cheeks. Her chest rose and fell in a normal rhythm once more. The glow faded from his hands, the last of his energy seeping into her body. He released her lips with a final, lingering brush of his mouth against hers.
Her eyes fluttered open, revealing bright green irises filled with confusion. She pushed against Tyson's chest with trembling hands, but her movements were uncoordinated and weak. She tried to sit up, wincing at the residual pain.
"Wha...what happened? What the hell kind of CPR was that?" Her voice came out hoarse and uncertain.
"You took a bad hit," Tyson explained, helping her sit up against the barrier. "But I think you'll survive now." He kept his hand on her shoulder to steady her as she swayed slightly.
Her eyes narrowed. "That wasn't CPR. You kissed me."
"Yeah, about that… My healing power requires intimate contact. It's not exactly conventional medicine, but it works."
She touched her lips with shaking fingers, then ran her hands over her body where the worst injuries had been. "Everything hurt and then..."
"Like I said, unconventional." Tyson glanced toward where her partner lay.
She looked at him, her eyes wide and questioning. "Who are you?"
"Just a guy trying to help," he replied with a small smile.
Her hand went to her chest, feeling the steady beat of her heart. "I should be dead," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "I felt my life slipping away."
"Not today," Tyson said, offering her a reassuring grin.
"Thank you," she said sincerely. "I owe you my life."
"Your sister needs help too. Will you let me save her?"
The speedster grabbed his arm, her grip still weak but urgent. "Sister? Sarah. Yes, please. She's my girlfriend, not my sister," she explained, eyes filled with tears. I watched her fall. I couldn't... I couldn't get to her in time."
"Your girlfriend? You two looked so alike I assumed…"
She nodded, leaning back against the barrier. "I'm Amy. It's our power. Our earrings, we share them. They give us our speed and make us share our appearance. When we take them off, we don't look like this." She gestured vaguely at herself. "Thank you for... saving me. Even though I'm not convinced you weren't just perving."
"Tyson. And you're welcome." he snorted. "I'll help her."
He started to move toward Sarah but paused. "Just so you know, I normally would've asked first, but given the circumstances..."
"I get it." Amy managed a weak smile. "Better an awkward kiss than death. It wouldn't be the first time I got groped during the morning commute."
Tyson gestured toward the other fallen hero several yards away. "I was heading over to check on her next."
"Oh no, Sarah." The speedster cried, seeing her girlfriend's state. She lurched to her feet, swaying. "We have to help her!"
"Whoa, take it easy." Tyson steadied her. "You're still recovering. I'll take care of your sister, don't worry."
With an arm under Amy, Tyson half-carried her over to check on the other speedster. She lay crumpled against a taxi, her costume smoking from multiple blast impacts. Tyson felt for a pulse and was relieved to find one, faint but steady.
He turned to Amy with a serious expression. "Since you're the closest thing I can get to consent right now, are you okay with me kissing her? Things get kind of... spicy when I use my power."
Amy chewed her lip, conflict played across her features as she considered. Finally, she nodded. "Do what you have to do to save her."
Tyson knelt, carefully gathering Sarah's limp body into his arms. Her costume was torn and scorched, revealing patches of pale skin beneath. He cradled her head gently, supporting her neck as he had done with Amy. His fingers threaded through her hair, marveling at its silken texture despite the battle damage. He traced the delicate lines of her face, fingertips ghosting over her high cheekbones and down the elegant curve of her neck.
Sarah's skin was cool to the touch, growing colder by the second. The alien weapon had affected her just as it had Amy. Her breathing came in shallow, irregular gasps that barely stirred her chest.
Tyson leaned down, bringing his face close to hers. He could feel Amy's eyes on them, watching intently as he prepared to save her partner. His hands continued their gentle exploration, one tangled in Sarah's hair while the other traced soothing patterns along her neck and collarbone.
"I'm sorry," he whispered against her lips. "But I promise this will help."
He pressed his mouth to hers in a tender kiss. The familiar warmth of his healing power began to flow, spreading from his lips and hands into Sarah's battered body. A soft golden glow emanated from the points of contact between them, bathing their faces in ethereal light.
Sarah's lips were soft beneath his, though lacking the warmth of life. As his power worked through her system, he felt that warmth slowly returning. His fingers traced down her neck to her shoulders, following the flow of healing energy as it spread through her body.
The kiss deepened naturally as his power intensified. Tyson felt Sarah's body beginning to respond, her back arching slightly as the healing energy coursed through her. A small sound escaped her throat, somewhere between a whimper and a moan. Her lips grew warmer, more pliant against his as life returned to her form.
Behind them, Amy made a strangled noise. Whether from concern or something else, Tyson couldn't tell. He kept his focus on Sarah, on the steady transfer of power between them. His hands moved with care, tracing the curves of her shoulders and arms as the healing energy knit her wounds back together.
Sarah's breathing grew stronger and more regular. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm against his. The chill left her skin, replaced by natural warmth that spoke of returning health. Her lips began to move against his, unconsciously responding to the kiss as awareness slowly returned to her healing body.
Tyson's hands moved almost of their own accord, driven by the innate knowledge of his power. They slid lower, fingers brushing against the soft swell of Sarah's breasts. The fabric of her costume was thin and offered little resistance. He could feel the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips, the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. Amy had said they were identical, and indeed, the feel of Sarah's body beneath his hands was eerily similar to Amy's. The same softness, the same firmness. Yet there was something different about Sarah, a subtle distinction that made his pulse quicken. Her lips began to move against his, the kiss deepening as awareness returned to her. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. Her grip was weak, but the urgency behind it was clear. She needed him, needed the life-giving force that flowed from his lips to hers.
The kiss was no longer one-sided.
Sarah's lips parted beneath his, allowing him to taste the sweetness within. Her tongue tentatively met his, exploring with a hunger that surprised him. She moaned into his mouth, a sound that was part relief, part desire. His grip on her tightened, one hand tangling in her hair while the other cupped her breast, feeling the hardened peak of her nipple through the fabric of her costume.
Sarah arched into his touch, her body seeking more of the delicious sensation that coursed through her veins. The healing energy flowed more freely with their growing intimacy, a golden glow that enveloped them both. Tyson could feel the wounds within her knitting back together, the broken bones mending, the torn muscles weaving themselves whole.
The world around them seemed to fade into insignificance. All that mattered was the connection between them, the transfer of life from one to the other. Tyson lost himself in the sensation, in the taste and feel of Sarah's lips against his. His body responded to her nearness, the heat of her skin seeping into his own.
Amy's voice shattered the moment.
"I think that's enough," she said.
Sarah's eyes flew open at the sound of her girlfriend's voice. Her body stiffened beneath his hands, and she broke the kiss with a gasp. Her eyes flew open and then went wide with confusion as she looked up at him. She weakly tried to push him away, her hands fluttering against his chest.
"Don't try to move too fast. You took some nasty hits." Tyson said quickly, releasing her and sitting back on his heels. "I had to heal you. Your girlfriend gave me permission."
Sarah's eyes darted to Amy, who stood a few feet away with her arms crossed over her chest. Her expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of ]jealousy, maybe, or concern in her eyes.
"Amy?" Sarah's voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.
Amy limped over, dropping to her knees. "Thank god you're okay!" she threw her arms around her. "It's okay, Sarah. He saved us."
The two hugged tightly. Tyson stood back to give them a moment.
Sarah's gaze returned to Tyson, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Who are you?"
"Tyson," he replied, offering her a small smile. "I'm... kind of a healer."
Sarah looked down at herself, taking in the healed wounds and the absence of pain. She touched her lips with shaking fingers, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. "I remember... I remember being hurt. And then... you were there."
"I did what I had to do to keep you alive," Tyson said, his tone earnest. "I'm sorry if it was... inappropriate."
Sarah shook her head, her hand reaching out to grasp his. "No, I... thank you. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't been here."
Amy placed a hand on Sarah's shoulder, her expression softening. "We owe you our lives, Tyson. We owe you one. A big one."
Tyson smiled widely. "I'll keep that in mind."
The sound of an explosion in the distance brought them back to reality. The battle was far from over, and they were still in the thick of it.
A loud crash made them jump. One of the alien drones had spotted them and slammed into the side of a nearby minivan. Tyson scooped up his rifle and shot the drone before it could lock in on them.
He peered over the barrier and around the corner of the van they were wedged between. At least a dozen drones encircled them, their weapon ports glowing ominously. Tyson hefted his captured alien rifle and fired at the nearest drone. It exploded in a satisfying shower of sparks and shrapnel.
The remaining drones adjusted their aim, strafing the van with blaster fire. Tyson ducked back as chunks of brick disintegrated around him. The two speedsters, still recovering, lowered their heads and covered their ears.
Tyson fired a few blind shots around the corner, forcing the drones back briefly. But it wouldn't take them long to overwhelm his position. He had to find a way to draw them off.
A massive energy beam erupted from the alien warship, striking the final support pillar of the bridge with earth-shattering force. The entire structure convulsed violently, concrete and steel shrieking in protest as the deck sheared away from its moorings. Jagged chunks of the once-mighty bridge tumbled downwards, trailing dust and debris before crashing into the churning river below.
The drones became a lesser concern as Tyson wrapped his arms protectively around the two speedsters. The healing kiss had restored them, but only enough to ensure they remained conscious and aware. They needed time to recover their strength and speed. Time that they didn't have.
"We need to move, now!" Tyson barked. He stepped forward, only to find empty air where solid ground had been a moment before. The floor dropped beneath them as the bridge finally surrendered to gravity's relentless pull.
Tyson's stomach lurched and his heart seized in his chest as the yawning chasm opened below. Instinctively, he clutched the speedsters tighter, shielding their vulnerable bodies with his own. The world slowed, each nanosecond stretching out as his body responded to the flood of adrenaline. Or perhaps it was the close contact with the speedsters and their enhanced perception.
Either way, Tyson watched with horrifying clarity as they plunged towards the churning river below. But then as he plummeted…
...Tyson felt the Wind call to him
The air wasn't just moving around him anymore. It was speaking, whispering secrets of freedom and power. Each gust that whipped at his clothes seemed to carry meaning, an ancient language of currents and pressure differentials that his mind was suddenly beginning to comprehend.
A thick metal support cable, capable of splitting him in two swung by, missing him and the speedsters by inches. The cable hadn't moved by chance. He could feel how the air had parted around it, creating invisible channels that guided its path away from him and the speedsters in his arms. The wind wasn't just a force. It was a vast network of invisible corridors and pathways.
Debris spun through the air around him, but now he could see the patterns in their chaos. Each chunk of concrete and each bridge fragment created a wake, disturbing the air in ways that rippled outward like stones dropped in a still pond. The train seat cushion wasn't drifting aimlessly, it was riding currents, paths of least resistance that wound through the falling wreckage like threads in a tapestry.
Others from the bus earlier fell aside him. He watched the businessman's tie flutter and understood for the first time how the air moved around it, creating tiny vortexes and eddies that affected its motion. The mother reaching for her child wasn't just falling, she was suspended in a complex web of air currents that he could almost touch with his mind. The teenager's spread-eagled form, still clutching a dead phone, displaced the air in patterns that seemed clear to Tyson now.
As his descent continued, his gaze was drawn to the water below.
...Tyson felt the Shadows call to him
The shadows cast by himself, the falling debris, what was left of the bridge's structure, and the alien ship that had destroyed it; became doorways into something deeper that resonated with a part of his mind he'd never known existed. The darkness wasn't just an absence of light anymore. It was a presence that reached out to him with eager tendrils. The silhouettes of falling passengers against the morning sky weren't just shapes, they were gateways into a darkness that seemed to pulse with its own life. Each body tumbling through space left trails of shadow that lingered in his vision like afterimages, but these weren't merely optical illusions. They were glimpses into a realm of pure darkness that existed alongside their world, waiting to be tapped.
Through gaps in the debris he could see the alien ship, its hulls creating shadows that seemed to call to him. These weren't just areas where light didn't reach. They were pools of potential power, wells of darkness that he could somehow sense were as real and manipulable as the air around him. The shadows beneath the surface of the brown river weren't just murky depths, they were a vast reservoir of darkness that reached with hungry fingers.
As they drew closer to the river's surface, the spray from previous impacts began to reach them.
... Tyson felt the Water call to him.
The spray wasn't just droplets anymore. It was a message, each tiny sphere of water carrying information about its nature and its power.
The wall of spray thrown up by falling debris became more than just water in the air. Each droplet was a lens through which he could somehow sense the entire river below, feel its currents and depths as if they were extensions of his own body.
The river's surface, with its complex patterns of ripples and waves, became a text he could suddenly read. Each impact point told a story, and each competing ripple carried meaning. The brown depths weren't just muddy water - they were layers of potential, each at a different pressure, temperature, and state of motion that he could somehow perceive with perfect clarity. His reflection in the approaching surface wasn't just an image. The merging reflections of himself, the elderly woman, and the speedsters created patterns in the water that spoke to him of connection and unity, of how all things were bound together by water's endless cycle.
As the distance to the river's surface shortened, Tyson began to understand that water wasn't just a substance to be moved through or consumed. It was a fundamental force that could be shaped, directed, and controlled by a mind that understood its true nature. The river wasn't just a body of water, it was power in its purest form, waiting for someone who could speak its language and direct its force.
Tyson felt the call of the elements; the wind, the shadows, the water. He just needed to pick one to answer.
— The Devil's Villain In A Lewd Superhero World —
Chapter 2 Choices:
Choose 1 Element:
Wind
Shadow
Water
Choose the fate of the Speedster Girlfriends:
Option 1: Abandon Amy and Sarah. While they're weak, take their earrings as an Artifact.
Option 2: Let Rescue Romance do its work, earning favor with Amy and Sarah.
Note: Sara and Amy are not the Fire from the Stars Companions. But if Option 2 is chosen, they could eventually become full Companions.
— The Devil's Villain In A Lewd Superhero World —
Tyson
Origin: Powerhouse
Character Points: 1450
Drawbacks:
Iron Age Morality
Non-Stop Action
Origin Story
Running The Devil's Gauntlet
Perks:
Most Common Superpower
Secondary Superpowers
Rescue Romance
World of Cardboard
Superpower: Elemental
Kiss of Life
Items:
Symbol of Anarchy
Artifact of Power
Companions:
Fire from the Stars