Chapter 10 - Chapter 10: April

The Devil's Villain In a Lewd Superhero World

Chapter 10: April

A sudden, crushing blow slammed into his back as Tyson stood over Siren's defeated form. The force of the impact sent him hurtling through the air, his body crashing into the facade of a nearby building. Concrete cracked and crumbled around him, leaving a Tyson-shaped indentation in the wall. As he flew, his helmet activated automatically, the Alien Battle Armor absorbing the brunt of the damage.

The blow had contained far more raw power than anything Siren had unleashed against him. He stepped out of the indented facade, helmet retracting as he extricated himself. He blinked away the dust and debris that clouded his vision. When his sight cleared, he found himself facing Boogiedown.

Mirror Image ran up beside the Bronx hero. Queens Kid clung to a nearby lamppost, electricity crackling around his fingers as he watched the confrontation unfold. Boogiedown's deep voice rumbled with anger. "That's enough. You attacked one of this city's greatest heroes! And you brought the Aliens back. We shouldn't have trusted you."

Tyson scoffed, brushing concrete dust from his shoulders. "You didn't trust me, remember? Still not sure why. I was the one who took down the mothership. I defeated the leader of the invading aliens. I coerced most of their forces from the skies and back into the mothership. And yes, I brought the aliens back to fight, but only to help fight Siren, who, in case you missed it, was killing civilians." He finished with a mocking tone, "You're welcome. Again."

Boogiedown's eyes narrowed, his fists clenching at his sides. "You expect us to believe that? We saw you beating her into the ground. How do we know you weren't responsible for the deaths here?"

Queens Kid dropped from his perch, landing gracefully between Tyson and Boogiedown. "Hold up, guys. Let's take a breath here. Tyson, care to explain what happened?"

Tyson explained, "Siren was… infected by some alien experiment. It turned her into that... thing. I had to stop her before she killed more people."

Mirror Image stepped forward. "And the aliens? Why bring them back?"

"Because I needed firepower," Tyson explained. "Siren became too strong for me to handle alone."

Boogiedown crossed his arms skeptically. "Convenient explanation. Why should we trust you? You've been nothing but trouble since you arrived."

Tyson's patience wore thin. "Look, I get it. You don't like me. I thought she was your leader." he said, pointing to Mirror Image, "Can I just talk with her instead? She's easy on the eyes and at least level-headed."

Boogiedown took a menacing step forward. "I'll show you level-headed," he threatened, raising his fist.

But then, an unexpected voice cut through the tension like a knife.

"This is April Lane reporting from Pier 17, where the newly crowned King of New York is about to be attacked by the Empire 5 after saving the city."

Tyson and the heroes stopped their argument and turned to face the source of the interruption. A woman had broken through the nearby crowds, her cameraman following closely behind.

A beauty with long, chestnut hair, baby-blue eyes, high cheekbones, and full, pouty lips. She approached wearing a yellow dress that showed her ample curves and hourglass figure, and clutched a microphone in her hand.

"For those just tuning in," April continued, "let's recap the events that have unfolded in our city over the past few hours." She turned slightly, gesturing towards the bay where the alien mothership had rested. "Yesterday, this man, who calls himself Tyson, single-handedly took down the alien mothership, strategically dropping it into the bay to minimize damage to our city."

The cameraman panned to show the massive structure hovering above them, blocking the afternoon sun. April continued, her tone filled with admiration. "Following this heroic act, Tyson engaged in battle with King KZ'Orr, the leader of the alien invasion. Somehow, he stopped the alien monarch, who had been fighting the entire Empire 5 to a stalemate and critically injured Archmage."

She paused for dramatic effect, eyes scanning the assembled heroes before settling back on Tyson. "And most recently, we witnessed Tyson subdue Siren, a member of the Empire 5 who had been infected by alien science. She went on a killing spree, ending the lives of dozens of innocent New Yorkers."

The reporter turned to face Mirror Image with a serious expression. "As the leader of the Empire 5, would you like to make a statement, Mirror Image?"

Mirror Image blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in focus. She glanced at her teammates, then back at April, her stance uncertain. "I... we're still assessing the situation. It's been a chaotic couple of days, and there's a lot we need to verify."

April pressed on, her journalistic instincts kicking in. "But surely you must have an opinion on King Tyson's actions? He's saved countless lives today, yet it appears you were about to attack him. Can you explain this apparent contradiction?"

Boogiedown stepped forward, his earlier anger now tempered by the presence of the media. "We are concerned about his methods and sudden appearance in our city."

"But isn't he exactly what we needed?" April countered, her gaze intense. "A man who stepped up to defeat one of the greatest threats this city has ever seen."

Queens Kid cleared his throat, drawing attention. "Look, we're all on edge after everything that's happened. Maybe we should take a step back and…"

"A step back?" April interrupted, her voice rising with passion. "While you're taking steps back, King has been taking leaps forward to protect our city. He's shown more initiative and effectiveness than the Empire 5!"

Tyson watched the exchange with amusement. He hadn't expected such a fervent defense from a stranger, let alone a reporter. He studied April more closely, noting the fire in her eyes as she challenged the heroes.

"The people of New York deserve to know why their supposed protectors are turning against someone who's done nothing but help," April pressed on. "Is this about protecting the city or protecting your status?"

Mirror Image held up a hand as she tried to regain control of the situation. "Ms. Lane, I understand your concern. We can't simply…"

As April grilled the Empire 5, Tyson dove into the system, reviewing his options. The heroes didn't notice his momentary distraction. He scanned through various options, contemplating which one would best serve his immediate purposes.

[+300 CP] Renegade (Drawback)

The authorities and the heroes consider you a villain. You're wanted for a crime. Convincing them of your innocence will take time and effort. In the meantime, get ready to duck, and you can forget about getting that Empire 5 invite any time soon.

Character Points: 650

Tyson withdrew his awareness from the system. If he was going to be treated like a villain… which he was supposed to be. He might as well get some Character Points out of it. He interrupted the ongoing discussion. "I promise you'll get the full story, Ms. Lane. How about an exclusive interview later?"

April's eyes lit up at the prospect. "Really? You'd do that?"

"Of course," Tyson replied smoothly. "I admire your passion for the truth. It's refreshing in this day and age."

April beamed, her earlier frustration completely forgotten. "Thank you, King Tyson. I look forward to it."

As April and her cameraman reluctantly backed away, Tyson turned to face the Empire 5. Still standing over Siren's defeated form, his gaze sweeping across the crowd of onlookers, heroes, and the media. The air was tense as he cleared his throat to address the assembled masses.

"People of New York," he began, his voice carrying across the hushed crowd. "I stand before you today not as an invader but as a conquerer. Since arriving in this city, I have dedicated myself to stopping the threats its faced." He gestured towards the alien mothership looming overhead. "I single-handedly took down that behemoth, preventing untold destruction to your homes and lives. I faced King KZ'orr, the leader of the alien invasion, in combat and emerged victorious where the heroes failed."

Tyson's eyes narrowed as he looked down at Siren's unconscious body. "And now, I've subdued this threat. A member of your Empire 5, transformed into a monster."

April Lane pushed closer, her microphone extended, capturing every word. The cameraman zoomed in on Tyson's face, broadcasting his speech to millions across the city.

"But my work isn't done," Tyson continued, his voice growing more intense. "The biggest threat to this city lies at my feet. Siren, once a protector, is now a killer. She's taken lives, growing stronger with each soul she consumed."

He looked directly at the Empire 5, his gaze challenging. "I cannot, in good conscience, leave her in the hands of the authorities or even the Empire 5. The risk of her breaking free, of this tragedy repeating itself, is too great."

Boogiedown stepped forward, his fists clenched. "You can't just…"

Tyson held up a hand, silencing him. "I can, and I must. For the safety of everyone in this city."

He turned back to the camera, his eyes locking with April's, then shifting to stare directly into the lens. "I make this promise to you, people of New York. I will personally ensure that both the aliens and Siren remain contained. They will pose no further threat to your lives or your city."

Mirror Image said, "You have no authority to…"

"Authority?" Tyson interrupted, his voice sharp. "I'm a king."

He knelt beside Siren's prone form and winked at Mirror Image. "See you soon," he whispered, loud enough for the microphones to pick up.

Mirror Image lunged forward, her hand outstretched. "No, wait!"

But it was too late. Tyson placed his hand on Siren's shoulder, and they both faded into the Shadow Realm, leaving behind a stunned audience and a group of frustrated heroes.

April Lane turned to face her camera, her eyes wide with excitement. "This is April Lane, reporting live from the scene where King Tyson has just taken matters into his own hands. After subduing the transformed and dangerous Siren, he has disappeared with her to parts unknown, promising to keep both her and the alien threat contained."

She paused, allowing the cameraman to pan across the faces of the Empire 5, capturing their mix of shock, anger, and confusion.

"The question on everyone's mind now is what happens next? One thing is certain. King Tyson has proven himself to be a force to be reckoned with, a man of action in a crisis. With him possessing both alien technology and one of the city's former protectors, how will the balance of power shift in New York? This reporter, for one, is eager to find out. This is April Lane. Signing off, but stay tuned for further updates on this developing story."

As the camera light blinked off, April turned to face the Empire 5, her journalistic instincts kicking into high gear. "Mirror Image, can you comment on King Tyson's actions? How do you plan to respond to this unprecedented situation?"

Mirror Image hesitated, clearly caught off guard by the rapid turn of events. "No comment..."

Boogiedown stepped forward, his face a mask of barely contained fury. "This is outrageous! He can't just take Siren. We need to get her back, now!"

Queens Kid placed a calming hand on Boogiedown's shoulder. "Easy, big guy. We don't even know where to start looking."

Boogiedown gestured towards the looming mothership. "Let's start our investigation there."

Mirror Image stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. "First, we need more information about what transpired." She turned to April, who was hovering nearby. "Ms. Lane, do you have any footage we could review? It would help us understand the sequence of events."

April's brow quirked upwards in surprise. She nodded to her cameraman, who retrieved a tablet from his bag. With a few taps, April pulled up a video compilation stitched together from various cell phone recordings and her footage.

The three heroes gathered around the small screen, their expressions growing grimmer as the scenes unfolded. Boogiedown's reaction was especially intense. His youthful features reflected his heartbreak over Siren's monstrous change, anger at Tyson for harming her, and shock at how she used the men and her manner of taking their… life force. His shoulders trembled, and his fists clenched and unclenched.

Mirror Image gently touched his arm. "Stay calm. We'll get to the bottom of this." She glanced at April with a warning. "Ms. Lane, I understand you're doing your job, but this sensitive matter requires discretion."

"The public has a right to know what's happening," April countered, "Especially when it concerns their safety and the actions of their supposed protectors."

The crowd around them dispersed as the heroes and the reporter continued their heated discussion. Some looked worried, but most seemed relieved that the immediate danger had passed.

Queens Kid, trying to mediate between his teammates and the persistent reporter, suggested, "Look, we're all shaken up right now. How about we take some time to regroup and then make a statement? We need to assess the situation fully before answering any questions."

April reluctantly nodded. "Alright, but I expect a full statement soon." As the heroes began moving away, she returned to her cameraman. "Let's get back to the station. We're putting together a special report on everything that's happened."

The cameraman nodded, and they started to make their way through the debris-strewn streets. April's mind was already thinking about the exclusive interview King Tyson had promised her. She couldn't help but feel excitement about what was to come.

Meanwhile, New Yorkers were glued to their screens across the city, watching replays of the unfolding events. In diners, bars, and living rooms, heated discussions broke out about King Tyson, the Empire 5, and the future of their city.

— The Devil's Villain In A Lewd Superhero World —

Tyson stepped out of the shadows into the Mothership's command center, cradling the unconscious Siren in his arms. Maya, Thara, and a handful of Greys stood nearby, keeping everything moving smoothly.

As he fully materialized, he ordered. "Recall the ships. Once they're all in, take the Mothership back into the bay."

"Actually, back into the bay?" Maya asked.

"Nah, let's hover at a reasonable distance above the water. There are cruise ships and ferries that pass through there. Let's not incense anyone more than necessary."

Thara's gaze shifted to Siren's limp form. "What are you going to do about her?" She pointed at the fallen hero.

"Do you have that helmet I sent back with the Greys in the sewers?" Tyson asked, his eyes scanning the room.

Maya lifted an alien-looking device. "This one?"

"Yeah, that's the one." Tyson nodded. "I need an open room, like a cargo hold or something."

Without hesitation, Thara pulled up a holographic schematic of the mothership. Her fingers danced across the glowing display, highlighting a specific area. "This should suit your needs," she said, transmitting the information to Tyson's armor.

Tyson's helmet engaged with a soft hiss, the HUD lighting up with directions. "Thanks, ladies. I'll handle the 'hero.' Send any of the Greys that were working on this thing to that area. Let them know they aren't in trouble. We're just going to continue their work in a different direction." With that, he turned and strode towards his new workspace, ready to put his Technology power to use.

As Tyson made his way through the corridors, the ship hummed with activity, alien crew members scurrying about as they followed the recall order. Some looked curious at Tyson and the unconscious woman he carried, but none dared to interfere. The cargo bay doors slid open with a pneumatic hiss, revealing a large, empty space. He gently laid Siren down on a nearby workbench.

"Alright," Tyson muttered, "let's see what we're dealing with here."

He placed the alien helmet beside Siren and began to examine it closely. As he studied the helmet, his Technology power kicked into overdrive. Information flooded his consciousness, schematics and data streams intertwining to understand the helmet's purpose and capabilities.

It was designed to interface directly with the wearer's nervous system, overriding their sensory input. As he delved deeper into his examination of the helmet, the cargo bay doors slid open once more. A group of Greys filed in, their large, dark eyes blinking nervously as they approached. Tyson looked up from his work, acknowledging their presence with a nod.

"Glad you could join me," he said, gesturing for them to come closer. "I've got some questions about your research."

The Greys exchanged glances before one of them stepped forward, its slender frame barely reaching Tyson's chest. "We are here to assist, as requested," it said.

Tyson pointed to the helmet. "Let's start with this. What was the original purpose of this device?"

The lead Grey tilted its head slightly. "The neural interface was designed to facilitate rapid information transfer and control. It allows direct manipulation of the subject's sensory input and motor functions."

"And what steps have you taken to adapt it for human use?"

Another Grey chimed in, its voice a touch higher. "We've made several modifications to account for the differences in human neural structure. The primary challenge has been adjusting the interface to cope with the decreased complexity and increased variability of human brains compared to our own."

"What specific issues have you encountered with human physiology?"

The Greys launched into a detailed explanation, their words overlapping as they eagerly shared their findings. Tyson held up a hand, and all the discussion stopped. He said, "One representative, please."

The first Grey spoke up. "The issue is with the folds. It's like the human brain has functions plotted to specific areas, but because of all the folds, the areas end up in different physical locations. At least, that was the theory we were working with." They continued speaking of the difficulties in mapping human neural pathways, the unexpected reactions to certain stimuli, and the challenges of maintaining long-term stability in the neural link.

"Humans have a remarkable capacity for neuroplasticity," one Grey noted. "This adaptability presented both opportunities and obstacles in our work."

Tyson listened intently, his mind racing with possibilities. "And what about the psychological effects? Have you observed any unintended consequences?"

The Greys fell silent for a moment, exchanging uneasy glances. Finally, the lead, Grey, spoke up. "There have been... complications. Some subjects experienced heightened emotional states. Others displayed personality shifts. In extreme cases, we observed complete dissociation from reality. We didn't focus on improving these conditions, as it was easier to override the existing personalities and focus on directives."

Tyson's eyes narrowed in anger. "I see."

"We could begin refining the neural mapping process," another Grey explained quickly, trying to appease their king. "By creating more precise connections and implementing safeguards, we'll reduce the occurrence of adverse effects."

"What about reversing the process on the Vagabound? Have you developed any methods to undo the changes?"

The Greys shifted uncomfortably. "Reversal has proven... challenging," the lead Grey admitted. "The changes within the Vagabound were extensive and not intended to be reversed. The conditioning led to severe neurological and psychological trauma. Additionally, we don't have an efficient way of regrowing the removed biological parts."

Tyson absorbed this information, his mind already formulating potential solutions. "Alright, this helmet is improved compared to the ones you used in the sewers." The Grey looked at him skeptically. In truth, it was the same one they'd been using. But having system backing, Tyson believed most of the flaws and issues they faced were corrected. He instructed, "We're going to use this on her. She killed several humans, so no one's going to be upset if something happens to her." He paused, thinking about how Boogiedown looked at Siren, then clarified, "Well, people might be upset, but whatever. While most of you are monitoring her, I want you to walk me through your research step by step. Show me everything you've done, from your initial theories to your latest experiments."

The Greys eagerly complied. Most began monitoring Siren and the Disengage Safety Protocols Item, pulling up displays filled with complex diagrams. The rest explained each phase of their work to Tyson, from their first tentative attempts at human neural interfacing to their most recent breakthroughs. Tyson began to see the potential in their work as he listened and asked probing questions. With his enhanced understanding of technology, he could keep up and learn on the fly.

"I think I see where we need to go with this," Tyson said, "Let's get to work on modifying this helmet. We're going to make some changes."

Tyson set to work. He adjusted the helmet, carefully laying out its components on the workbench. His power-granted technological insight guided his fingers. As he worked, he spoke aloud, partly to focus his thoughts and partly out of habit.

"Okay, I'm recalibrating the neural interface. We're using this particular specimen to keep her within the virtual world while her body here is maintained. It'll make her a prisoner within the simulation, but that's the goal. Her mind will be trapped regardless of how powerful her body is."

Hours seemed to fly by as Tyson immersed himself in the intricate work. He barely noticed when Maya entered the cargo bay.

"How's it going?" she asked.

Tyson looked up, blinking as he refocused on his surroundings. "Progress," he said with a small smile. "Slow but steady. I've got Siren locked away. There are no issues there besides having to maintain her body. I'll have to develop a system for waste management and nutrition."

Maya moved closer, peering at the tools and devices Tyson had cobbled together. "I'm impressed," she admitted. "You seem to have a natural affinity for our technology."

Tyson shrugged, trying to downplay his abilities. "Just putting my skills to good use. How are things up top?"

"All ships have been recalled," Maya reported. "We're holding position above the bay, as you suggested. The human authorities have been trying to make contact, but we've maintained radio silence for now."

Tyson nodded, his mind already racing with potential diplomatic scenarios. "Good. We'll need to address them soon, but I need to finish this first and get working on my next project. I don't want to talk to them until I have something to work in our favor." He gestured to his work. "Any word from the surface about Siren's disappearance?"

Maya's expression darkened slightly. "There's been some chatter on their communication networks. Opinions are mixed. No humans were in the sewers to see how her transformation happened, but Siren was respected. Some are blaming us. Others are thankful that we helped take her down. It earned us some goodwill, but not much after how much damage and destruction was caused. Public opinion of you seems to be favorable, however."

"About as good as we could expect," Tyson muttered, glancing at Siren's still form. "But hopefully, what I'm working on will help."

He turned back to his work, fingers flying over the delicate components. Maya watched in fascination as he seamlessly integrated alien technology with Earth-based electronics, creating something entirely new.

"There," Tyson said finally, holding up a projector. The connections leading from Siren's helmet into a bank of computers also connected to the projector he held. "This should do the trick."

Maya leaned in for a closer look. "What exactly will it do?"

"If I've got this right," Tyson explained, "it'll project a solid holographic image."

"And if you've got it wrong?" Maya asked, a note of concern in her voice.

"Then it won't, and I try again." Tyson shrugged. "Here goes nothing."

Tyson flipped the switch on the projector. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a flicker of light, a solid image materialized before them. It was Siren, but not quite. The hologram was an exact replica of the hero's physical form.

The holographic Siren smiled warmly at Tyson and Maya. "Welcome to the Hero Simulator," she said, her voice carrying the same melodic quality as the real Siren's. "I'm here to guide you through your journey of becoming a hero." He glanced at Maya, who looked equally impressed. The hologram continued, seemingly oblivious to their reactions. "As a hero, it's important to understand your powers and how to use them responsibly. Would you like to start with a basic overview of heroic ethics or jump straight into power training?"

Tyson chuckled. He reached out and flipped the switch again, causing the hologram to disappear mid-sentence. "Well, that's a good start," he said, turning to Maya. "It's not perfect, of course. The AI needs fine-tuning, and we'll need to expand the program wildly, but it's a solid foundation."

"It's remarkable," she admitted. "But what exactly is your plan for this... Hero Simulator?"

Tyson set the projector down carefully. "Entertainment. Humans love games. Everyone's afraid of the aliens because of the invasion. So, part one. We fix the Vagabound, or as close to fixing them as we can, maybe do some outreach, help repair the damage where our technology offers a solution faster than the city can come up with." He gestured to the group of Greys who had been watching the demonstration with rapt attention. "Part two. I'll have them work on refining this technology. They can expand the database, improve AI responses, and even create simulations of other settings like fantasy or science fiction. The programming has some… quirks. It's particularly lewd. I'm surprised that she didn't offer to suck me off before the tutorial. But with proper programming, we can get past that. And I'm sure some customers will be looking for that. Since it's virtual, it's reasonably safe, as long as we keep the safeguards in place and don't do like the Greys in the sewers were."

"And you trust them with this task?"

"It'll keep them busy and out of trouble while we deal with more pressing matters." He turned back to his workbench, his expression growing serious. "Speaking of which, I need to turn my attention to the Vagabound. That's going to be a much tougher nut to crack."

Maya watched as Tyson began pulling up holographic displays. "What's your plan?" she asked.

"First, I need to understand exactly what was done to them," Tyson replied, his eyes scanning rapidly over data streams. "Then I need to figure out if there's any way to reverse it or at least mitigate the damage. It won't be easy, and I'm not hopeful, but I'll try." He paused, looking up at Maya. "I'm not a doctor, a psychologist, or familiar with cybernetics. But once I have a workable solution, we'll open communications if I can come up with one in a reasonable amount of time. If not, we'll lean heavily on the simulations and hope it earns us enough points with the public."

Maya could see his focus sharpening, his mind racing ahead to tackle this new challenge. She squeezed his hand reassuringly before turning and exiting the cargo bay, leaving Tyson to his work.

— The Devil's Villain In A Lewd Superhero World —

The cargo bay had transformed into a makeshift laboratory filled with alien technology and the occasional beep from monitoring equipment. He'd been at it for hours, pouring over every scrap of information the Greys had on the Vagabound.

As the data streamed by, Tyson felt a growing sense of unease. His Technology power allowed him to grasp complex alien concepts, but even with this enhanced understanding, what had been done to the Vagabound was far beyond what he could handle. The Greys hadn't started their work with the invasion. Some had been on Earth for months or years working on the project in the sewers.

"This is worse than I thought," he muttered, rubbing his temples.

One of the Greys approached cautiously. "Is there a problem, sir?"

Tyson sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah, you could say that. The modifications you made to these people... it's not just physical. You've rewired their nervous systems, subjected them to psychological conditioning, replaced organs and appendages, and the list goes on and on."

The Grey tilted its head, large eyes blinking slowly. "That was necessary for the integration of our technology."

"I get that," Tyson said, frustration creeping into his voice. "But do you understand what you've done? You haven't just changed their bodies; you've fundamentally altered who they are as people." He pulled up a 3D model of a human brain, then overlaid it with the scans from a Vagabound subject. "Look at this," Tyson pointed. "You've bypassed entire brain regions responsible for things like empathy, decision-making, and memory formation. And these implants... they're not just additions. They've become integral to basic functions."

The Grey nodded. "Yes, that was intentional. It allows for more efficient control and…"

"Enough," Tyson interrupted, his voice rising. The Grey stopped immediately, not wanting to anger the King any further.

He stood up abruptly, pacing the length of the workbench. He tried to find a solution, but every avenue he explored led to a dead end. The Vagabound's modifications were too extensive, too deeply integrated into their very being.

"Even if I could somehow remove all the cybernetics," Tyson thought aloud, "their brains wouldn't function properly anymore. And growing back the removed biological parts... that's way beyond our current capabilities." He returned to the holographic display, pulling up file after file on the Vagabound subjects. Each one told the same story.

Irreversible changes, permanent alterations to body and mind.

He might be able to fix what had been done, but it would take months, if not years. He didn't have that kind of time. Kiss of Life might be able to fix the damage. But he wasn't going to be intimate with the Vagabound. How long would it take to heal them with just massages? Probably years, easily as long as the technological approach.

So he turned to the System. There had to be a better form of mass healing. He'd accepted a Drawback, time to put the Points to good use. As he browsed, he came up with two possible solutions.

Doomsday Drawings or upgrading the mothership.

[400 CP] Doomsday Drawings (Items)

Chucking cans of horny gas around is all well and good, but when you want to spread a little chaos, you'll need to think much bigger in scope. This doomsday device hasn't been built yet but the heroes had better watch out if they don't want you getting your hands on one in the near future. Rather than an actual weapon this item is a suitcase full of blueprints for devices that let you scale up other items or powers you might have from personal scale to city-scale or even bigger. Those super-charged aphrodisiacs you might have picked up earlier? You can now turn those into suitcase "nukes" capable of turning an entire city into an animalistic sex-crazed orgy. Have mind control powers? Soon, you'll have an amplifier to help you enslave a whole metropolis at once, or even more than that if you were already that strong. Someone with a technological focus could build these things from scratch, but less inventive villains will also find that the components for these weapons can be acquired via crime sprees in most large cities.

A case of designs that could boost his abilities would give him something to boost his Kiss of Life. If he could be with Maya and make the healing effects cover a large area, he could apply the healing to the Vagabound. The description of Kiss of Life indicated that it should cover the modifications done to them, though it would take multiple sessions.

[200 CP] Med-Bay (Item Upgrades)

A state-of-the-art medical facility that can remedy anything short of brain death, though replacing missing body parts or organs will take some time and may require the patient to be placed into suspended animation.

The Med-Bay could fix the Vagabound, too, and it cost less than the Doomsday Drawings. But looking over his character sheet, Tyson saw how many Perks and Items he had, and the Doomsday Drawings could enhance all of them.

For 200 Character Points, the Med-Bay would fix his immediate problem and be able to heal any of his forces and allies going forward. For an extra 200, he solved the immediate issue but could boost all his powers going forward. However, future healing would require a more… personal touch. His secondary concern was that by taking the Med-Bay it would make Kiss of Life obsolete, making those Character Points a wasted purchase. So, instead, he purchased Doomsday Drawings, which would enhance Kiss of Life and the other purchases.

Character Points: 250

Tyson pulled up the main database within the Mothership. He sifted through layers of alien encryption and data storage protocols. After several minutes of intense searching, he found the Doomsday Drawings. His Technology Perk allowed him to analyze the schematics and grasp the underlying principles. Scrolling through various options, each more outlandish than the last, he settled on one that caught his eye.

"This could work," he murmured, studying the blueprint.

The design called for a complex array of energy amplifiers. This would transform his intimate healing ability into something capable of affecting an entire city block or more.

He began gathering the necessary components, raiding the Mothership's storage bays, and repurposing alien technology. Some of the required materials were unfamiliar, but his Technology power allowed him to improvise suitable alternatives. With his arms full of alien gadgetry, Tyson went to his bedroom and approached the bed.

"Sorry, but you're about to get an upgrade," he said to the empty room.

He set down his collection of alien tech and began disassembling the bed. He removed the mattress, set it aside, and laid out the components according to the Doomsday Drawing's specifications. As he worked, Tyson couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. Here he was, a reluctant supervillain, turning his bed into a sex-powered healing device. It was the kind of scenario that would have seemed ridiculous just a few days ago.

The base of the bed frame became the foundation for the energy amplifiers. Tyson carefully integrated alien power cells into the structure, ensuring they were properly shielded. The headboard was transformed into a control panel, its wood veneer hiding a sophisticated array of bio-sensors and energy modulators.

Tyson worked tirelessly, his enhanced intellect guiding his hands through the complex assembly process. Hours passed, and the area resembled a mad scientist's laboratory more than a bedroom. Finally, he stood back to admire his handiwork.

"Well," Tyson said, wiping his brow, "I think it's good. I need to clean this place up, and then it's time for a test run."

As he approached the hangar bay, a faint echo of voices caught his attention. The hangar doors stood slightly ajar, and Tyson spotted a sea of grey figures through the gap. Princess Thara stood atop a raised platform, commanding attention from the assembled Greys.

His eyes narrowed. Something was off about this gathering. Without a sound, he cloaked himself in darkness, melting into the shadows along the wall, and crept closer.

The Greys' large eyes remained fixed on Thara, oblivious to Tyson's presence. Her clear and authoritative voice carried across the hangar. "My fellow warriors, we stand at a crossroads. Our invasion has been thwarted, our plans disrupted by an outsider who claims to be our new king."

Tyson's jaw clenched. He'd expected resistance, but not this soon and not from Thara.

"But I ask you," Thara continued, her voice rising, "who truly understands our ways? Who has led you in battle, shared in your victories and defeats? I, Princess Thara, should rightfully guide our people in this new world." A murmur rippled through the crowd. Some Greys nodded in agreement, while others shifted uneasily. "This usurper, this 'King' Tyson, may have defeated our father," Thara spat, "but he knows nothing of our culture or goals. He would have us abandon our conquest and turn our backs on everything we've fought for. I say we take back what is ours!" The crowd's reaction was mixed. Some Greys cheered, while others looked uncertain.

A frown creased Tyson's brow. Though it had seemed he'd earned everyone's loyalty, watching Thara's speech reminded him of the fickle nature of allegiances, particularly in a world of heroes and villains. The Perks and Items gave him some advantage, but would they be enough? Rescue Romance improved his relationship with those he saved. His Artifact, Every King Needs His Crown, would help rally his followers together. World of Cardboard ensured that once his opponent was down and bound, they stayed that way. But he needed something more to guard against betrayal and dissent. Something to make his hard-won victories permanent, to combat the cliché of defeated heroes returning again and again.

The coup Thara was attempting proved that. And while Siren seemed pacified for the moment, more challengers would inevitably emerge. The fallen King K'Zorr was still trapped in the shadow realm, not completely defeated and still a faraway threat. And who knew what new threats would arise?

His reserve of Character Points was running low, but solidifying his power base and shoring up this weakness was critical before making another move. Tyson turned to the system, searching for the solution.

[200 CP] Puppet Master (Perk)

When you consider the character of the average crook, loyal and competent minions are a precious commodity in the supervillain business. Still, a good mastermind has his ways of turning ordinary criminal scum into useful and reliable pawns. Your villainous charisma makes you especially charming to fellow evil-doers and men or women of loose morals, and it wouldn't be difficult for you to persuade other villains to team up with or work for you. Your influence is insidious, almost impossible to break once you've got your claws into someone, and once you earn a person's loyalty or submission, it sticks. Your goons will never sell you out to the cops, mercenaries always keep their ends of your bargains, and brainwashed or corrupted heroines stay brainwashed. Even if their friends try to deprogram them, they relapse and become yours again after a few weeks. Moreover, the more loyal your underlings become, the more effective they are at their jobs, making up whatever they lack in skill with motivation. Your leadership will turn common thugs into loyal and effective stormtroopers and lesser villains into obedient pawns.

Puppet Master was exactly what he needed. With this Perk, recruiting villains and criminals would prove simple. A few honeyed words and they would flock to him, compelled by his charm, which Rescue Romance already boosted. Those serving him would have unshakeable loyalty bound to his cause. Betrayal or disobedience would become unthinkable. The perk ensured his followers would never even consider selling him out or rebelling. Thara, Siren, the Greys, and the Vagabound would not dare challenge his authority once this Perk took hold.

Character Points: 50

Tyson committed most of his remaining Character Points, selecting the Perk. The pieces were falling into place. Perks didn't work retroactively unless stated to do so. Now, all that was left was to secure his holdings.

The time had come to claim his rightful place as king.

He stepped out of the shadows, his sudden appearance causing nearby Greys to freeze in shock. Silence spread through the hangar as more Greys noticed his presence. Thara was caught up in her speech, but it didn't take long to realize something was amiss. She turned, her eyes widening as she spotted him.

"What do you think you're doing?" Tyson asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Thara recovered quickly. "Merely exercising my rights as a Solaran princess. Usurping the leader's forces is a valid way to raise one's status. It's how you became king, after all. I'm just returning the favor."

Tyson's eyes flashed with anger. "This is how you return the favor after I cleaned up your mess?"

Thara's composure cracked, her voice rising. "It was your mess! If you hadn't interfered, none of this would have happened. And now Plan B is lost. It could have been our route to taking over Earth!"

The hangar bay fell silent, and the tension was palpable. Greys glanced back and forth between Tyson and Thara, unsure where to place their loyalty.

Tyson took a step forward, his voice carrying across the cavernous space. "You think you're the rightful leader?" He pointed to his head, where the Artifact crown he took from Siren rested. "You want the crown? Come and get it."

"With pleasure."

In an instant, the air around Thara darkened. Tendrils of shadow coalesced around her hands, writhing like living smoke. Propelled by dark energy, she launched herself from the platform and hurled bolts of condensed darkness at Tyson.

"Is that the best you can do, 'princess'?" he taunted.

The bolt of dark energy hurtled toward him. At the last instant, his skin radiated shadowy tendrils. When the attack struck, the tendrils drank in the attack like a sponge absorbing water. The dark tendrils writhed across his palm, seeming to fight against being pulled into his flesh before dissipating completely with a faint hiss.

Thara snarled, her next attack doubling in intensity. A wave of darkness surged towards Tyson, threatening to engulf him.

Unfazed, Tyson planted his feet and raised his hands to meet the attack. The wave crashed against him with tremendous force, momentarily obscuring his form in the churning void. He slid back several feet from the impact, his heels carving furrows on the metal floor. Still, he stood firm, his palms radiating an eerie glow as he held the attack at bay as if it were physical.

The darkness writhed and fought against being drawn into his flesh. Slowly but surely, though, Tyson overpowered Thara's attack. With a final, defiant flicker, the last remnants of shadow were pulled into his hands and dissipated with an ominous hiss.

Tyson met Thara's gaze, eyes burning with contempt. "That won't work on me. You'll have to do better, princess."

"I'm just getting started, pretender." Darkness swirled around her hands as she gathered herself for another attack. The onlooking Greys shifted uneasily. Their loyalties hung precariously in the balance between the two dangerous leaders. She raised her hands, and the shadows around her began to twist and churn. They coalesced into a massive, writhing creature of smoke and shadow that towered over the assembled Greys. Its featureless head swiveled towards Tyson, maw gaping wide to reveal an inside of darkness so pure it rivaled the Shadow Realm.

"Well, that's new," he muttered.

The shadow beast lunged, its jaws snapping shut where Tyson had been standing a split second before. He rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding being crushed by its massive paw.

"You like it?" Thara's voice dripped with smug satisfaction. "A little trick I picked up during my studies. Let's see how you handle this, 'Your Majesty'. Any last words before I take back what's rightfully mine?" she asked.

Again, the shadow beast tried to close its jaws around Tyson. But instead of dodging, he allowed the attack to land. He was engulfed, disappearing from view.

Thara's smile turned predatory as her dark devourer swallowed Tyson whole. For a brief moment, she relished her apparent victory. The hangar was silent, save for the crackling of her void energy.

Her triumph was short-lived.

Without warning, Tyson burst from a pool of shadows at Thara's feet. His fist slammed into her jaw, wreathed in inky darkness interspersed with whisps of pink. The blow reverberated through the hangar, sending Thara hurtling backward to crash into a tall stack of supply crates, toppling them.

"You'll have to do better, princess," Tyson taunted.

He didn't waste a moment as she stood, launching himself forward, shadows coalescing around his fist. As Thara struggled to regain her bearings, Tyson's punch connected squarely with her solar plexus.

The pink wisps surrounding his fist infused her body. She released a strangled breath at having the wind knocked out of her, but a gasp, not of pain, followed it, but of pleasure from the erotic energy of his attack. The impact sent Thara flying backward. She hit the ground hard, skidding across the hangar floor before stopping at the feet of the assembled Greys.

Silence again fell over the hangar as Thara struggled to push herself up. Tyson approached slowly at a hover, intimidating the watching aliens.

"It's over, Thara," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. "You've lost."

Thara looked up and bit her lip, seeing Tyson in a new light. He radiated palpable strength, and she couldn't deny it was attractive.

"This isn't over. I am a princess of the Solaran Empire. I won't be defeated!"

Tyson crouched down, meeting her gaze. "I beat your father, and now, I've beaten you." He stood, addressing the crowd of Greys. "Does anyone else want to challenge my right to lead?"

The Greys looked at each other, then back at Tyson. They dropped to their knees, bowing their heads in submission.

Tyson nodded, satisfied. He turned back to Thara. The defeated princess glared up at him, defiance still burning in her gaze despite her prone position.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this, Thara," Tyson said regretfully. "But I can't risk you trying to overthrow me again."

With a gesture, Tyson called upon the shadows around them. They responded eagerly, slithering across the hangar floor like living ink. The darkness, dotted with pink energy, coalesced around Thara's ankles, wrapping tightly and binding her feet together. She struggled against the shadowy bonds, but they held firm.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

Tyson didn't respond. Instead, he focused on manipulating the shadows further. They crept up Thara's body, twisting around her torso and arms. Her hands were pulled behind her back and bound tightly together.

The shadows infused with motes of pink energy slithered around Thara, their tendrils wrapping around her ankles and calves, pulling them together. The princess of the Solaran Empire, a being of immense power, struggled against her ethereal bonds, but the darkness held her fast, binding and forcing her down onto her knees. Thara's eyes went wide with surprise as she realized the full extent of Tyson's control over the shadows. She writhed in a futile attempt to break free, her body undulating with each desperate effort.

The shadows responded to her struggles by tightening their grip. They wound their way up her torso, constricting around her waist and ribcage, each tendril leaving a trail of pink luminescence on her skin. The motes of energy seeped into her pores, their warmth spreading through her veins. Her hands were forced behind her back, bound together by the shadowy ropes. The pink energy danced along her fingers, its touch sending shivers down her spine. Thara's breath hitched as she felt the energy's effects; an unexpected warmth stirred sensations within her.

The more she fought, the more the shadows seemed to delight in their task, the pink motes intensifying with each of her struggles. The feeling of being both physically restrained and inexplicably aroused by the very bonds that held her was strange. The dual sensations of helplessness and pleasure warred within her, leaving her flushed and panting.

His World of Cardboard Perk activated; the shadow bindings, though appearing as nothing more than smoke, had become unbreakable restraints. She thrashed against her bonds. Her face contorted with effort as she tried to summon her dark energy. But no matter how hard she strained, her strength couldn't break them, and her powers refused to respond to her call.

"It's no use," Tyson said. You can't break free."

Her wiggling became more pronounced, her body arching as she sought to alleviate the building pressure. The shadows adjusted to her movements, ensuring she remained exposed and vulnerable. The sight of her, bound and helpless yet radiating a fierce beauty, was captivating. Tyson had not anticipated the erotic undertones of his shadowy powers, nor had he intended to arouse her in such a manner. Yet, there was no denying the effect his dominance was having on her. Thara's pride warred with the sensations coursing through her. She was a princess of a mighty empire, not some commoner to be subdued. Yet, her body betrayed her. The pink motes grew brighter, their light now visible through the fabric of her clothing, tracing the outlines of her breasts and the curves of her hips. The energy pulsed in time with her quickening heartbeat.

Tyson gazed intently into Thara's eyes, seeking any lingering trace of resistance. But the proud princess's defiance had melted away, replaced by conflicting emotions that flushed her cheeks. She squirmed against her shadowy bonds, torn between embarrassment at her helplessness and unexpected desire kindled by the energy's persistent touch. Her struggles grew weaker, half-hearted twists that only tightened the shadows' hold. The pink motes swirled eagerly over her skin as if sensing her weakening resolve. Thara bit her lip, unable to tear her eyes away from Tyson's intense stare. She was acutely aware of her body's reactions, the quickening of her breath, and the warmth blossoming within her.

As Tyson peered closer, the shape of Thara's eyes shifted before him. Her pupils were no longer round but had taken on an unusual heart-like shape. The change seemed linked to the energy flowing into her, the pink glow brightening with the transformation.

"Now isn't that interesting," he mused.

Indignation and flustered excitement stirred within Thara. She tossed her head in a pretense of pride, though her bonds allowed little motion. "I do not yield."

"Is that so?" Tyson traced a finger, covered in black and pink energy, along her jawline, eliciting a faint gasp from the princess. "Because you look rather... yielding. This doesn't have to be a defeat. It can be a new beginning." She turned her head away, unable to meet his gaze. The shadows gently turned her face back towards him. "You have fought bravely," Tyson continued, "but it's time to put aside our differences. I need you by my side."

Thara's breath caught in her throat as she considered his words. The pink energy continued its work, suffusing her with a warmth that seemed to soften the edges of her resistance.

He crouched down beside her. "I know you think I'm some usurper who doesn't understand your ways. But we don't have to be enemies, Thara."

He could sense the princess's simmering anger toward her helpless state, battling against her body's reaction to his energy. With ragged breaths and flushed cheeks, she squirmed against the shadows' hold one final time. But the futility of her struggle only served to heighten her arousal.

Finally releasing a long exhale, almost a moan, Thara lifted her chin. "I submit," she conceded, the words heavy on her tongue.

Tyson stood, addressing the assembled Greys once more. "Let this be a lesson to all of you. I don't want to rule through fear or intimidation. But I will do what's necessary to maintain order."

"Listen up! I want you to gather all the Vagabound and bring them whatever workshop space is available. Remove any artificial limbs or implants they have, but keep them stable. Don't worry about their lost limbs. I have a plan."

Spurred into action, the alien beings scattered to carry out their leader's orders. Tyson watched them go, then turned his attention back to Thara.

"As for you, princess," Tyson said, reaching down to grasp her arm, "you're coming with me."

He pulled Thara to her feet. She stumbled slightly, still bound by the unbreakable shadow restraints, but Tyson steadied her. "Where are you taking me?"

"You'll see soon enough."

He guided her through the corridors of the Mothership. Greys scurried past them, some carrying unconscious or semi-conscious Vagabound, others pushing hovering gurneys laden with cybernetic parts. Tyson nodded approvingly at their efficiency.

"What are you planning to do with the Vagabound? And why remove their implants?"

"I'm going to fix them," Tyson replied simply. "Those implants were forced on them. It's time to give them back their humanity."

Thara scoffed. "And how do you plan to do that?"

"I have my ways, princess. You're about to see one of them firsthand."

They arrived at Tyson's quarters, the door sliding open with a soft hiss. He ushered Thara inside, and she took in the transformed bedroom. The bed, now a complex array of alien technology, dominated the center of the room.

"What is this?" Thara asked, unable to hide her fascination.

"This," he said, gesturing proudly, "is how we will heal the Vagabound. And it's also how you will prove your loyalty and earn your freedom."

He guided Thara closer to the bed, explaining as they approached. "I've modified it to amplify my healing abilities. With this, I can restore the Vagabound to their original human forms. No cybernetics, no mental conditioning, just pure, healthy humans."

Thara's brow furrowed. "But how does this involve me?"

"My healing power works through intimacy," he explained. Normally, it would only affect me and whoever I'm with, healing us completely. But this bed," he gestured to the complex array of alien technology, "magnifies the effect. It'll spread across all the occupants within the Mothership."

Thara's eyes widened as she began to understand. "You mean..."

"With this, any Greys or other injured forces will also be healed. We can heal all the Vagabound at once. Restore them to their original human forms, free from cybernetics and psychological conditioning."

Thara's gaze darted between Tyson and the bed, clearly considering his words. "But why do you need me for this? Surely, you could use anyone."

Tyson took a step closer, his voice softening. "I've proven myself as king, Thara. I defeated you and your father. I took down this ship and restored it. I defeated Siren. I don't know what more you want from me." He paused, letting his words sink in. "I can't have the princess scheming whenever I turn my back. I need you to accept me as the King. Not just in words, but in action."

Thara's pride visibly warred with the truth of Tyson's words. "That's how you want me to prove my loyalty?"

"Yes," Tyson replied. "Come to me. Prove your loyalty, heal your people and those your people harmed."

For a long moment, Thara was silent, her internal struggle evident in her eyes. Then Tyson reached out, gently cupping Thara's face in his hand. "I don't want to be your enemy, Thara. I want us to work together to make something good out of this mess."

She leaned into his touch, almost unconsciously. "You think we can heal them all? Undo everything that's been done?"

"I do," Tyson nodded. "But I need your help. Your acceptance. Your trust."

Thara took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, her heart-shaped eyes showed her resolve. "I'll do it for my people. For the humans we've harmed. And... for you. My king."

— The Devil's Villain In A Lewd Superhero World —

April Lane and her cameraman positioned themselves on the East River Greenway, a small stretch of boardwalk between Pier 11 and Pier 15 on the southern curve of Manhattan. The FDR Drive stood raised on concrete pillars above them. Beyond, a few blocks inland, was the financial district, its skyline towering above the waterfront park. Lush trees and manicured lawns provided a patch of nature to contrast the glass and steel structures that dominated the cityscape.

The waves lapping gently against the shoreline usually created a tranquil atmosphere, but the air now thrummed with tension as a growing crowd pressed against hastily erected police barriers. Onlookers craned their necks, smartphones held aloft, eager to glimpse the impending spectacle.

April smoothed her yellow blazer and checked her microphone while her blue eyes sparkled excitedly. This was the story of a lifetime, and she'd be damned if she didn't nail it. Her cameraman gave her a thumbs up, signaling they were ready to roll.

"We're live in three, two, one..."

"This is April Lane, reporting live from the East River Greenway. In just moments, we expect the arrival of the aptly-titled King of New York, Tyson, for his first public appearance since the alien invasion."

She gestured behind her, where four members of the Empire 5 stood in a tense formation. "As you can see, the Empire 5, minus Siren, who remains in King Tyson's custody, are present and on high alert."

The heroes cut imposing figures against the backdrop of the river. Fully recovered from his earlier ordeal, Archmage stood in his mystical robes. Queens Kid, the youthful protector of Queens, was next to Boogiedown, the Bronx's champion who exuded an aura of barely contained power. Mirror Image held her shield relaxed at her side; its reflective surface shimmered, catching the sunlight and casting prismatic patterns across the boardwalk.

April continued her report, "The State of New York has issued a warrant for Tyson's arrest, but sources tell us the Empire 5 have been ordered not to engage in combat due to the presence of civilians and the potential for escalating tensions with the alien forces." She lowered her voice conspiratorially, leaning closer to the camera. "This leaves our heroes in a precarious position. They can only attempt to reason with King Tyson and convince him to surrender peacefully."

Voices rose from the crowd behind her. April turned, her eyes widening as she caught sight of something beyond the camera's view. "Ladies and gentlemen, it appears King Tyson's arrival is imminent. We can see three alien ships departing from the mothership."

The camera panned away from April, focusing on the massive alien vessel that had become an ominous fixture in New York's harbor. It hovered menacingly between Ellis Island, Governor's Island, and the Statue of Liberty.

As the crowd watched in awe, three craft, the same kind that was so prevalent during the invasion, emerged from the mothership. They glided silently through the air as they approached the Greenway.

April narrated the scene. "The alien ships are heading directly towards us. King Tyson notified us beforehand so as not to cause undue fear. He has chosen quite the entrance for his debut."

The Empire 5 tensed visibly, their stances shifting from wary observation to battle-ready alertness. The crowd pressed against the police barriers. Officers struggled to maintain order, urging people to stay back.

The alien ships settled, hovering over the waters beyond the boardwalk railing. A hush fell over the crowd as ports opened with a pneumatic hiss and walkways extended from each vessel.

April Lane gripped her microphone tightly. "Ladies and gentlemen, it appears King Tyson is about to make his grand entrance." But instead of the self-proclaimed King of New York, ordinary people began to emerge from the ships. Men, women, and children of various ages stepped onto the walkways. "This is... unexpected," April breathed. She quickly regained her composure and continued her report. "It seems that these ships are carrying human passengers." One guy walked out wearing Tims and a Yankees hat. "New Yorkers, from the looks of it." she added.

The police sprang into action, their initial wariness giving way to concern for the disembarking civilians. Officers rushed forward, helping people down from the walkways and guiding them towards a hastily established gathering area.

"The NYPD is now assisting these individuals," April narrated, her eyes darting between the ships and the growing crowd of rescued New Yorkers. "They appear to be gathering information from the passengers."

April approached the nearest group to interview one of the rescued individuals. Her microphone was poised, questions forming on her lips when movement from the ships caught her attention. From the two vessels on either end, familiar figures emerged. The alien princesses who had fought alongside their king during the invasion now stood on the walkways, their regal bearing unmistakable even from a distance.

"The alien princesses have appeared," April reported, "But where is King Tyson?"

As if in answer to her question, two figures appeared at the entrance of the central ship. King Tyson himself stepped onto the walkway, his presence commanding instant attention. But it was his companion that caused April the greater surprise.

"Incredible. King Tyson has emerged, and by his side is none other than Siren, the missing member of the Empire 5!"

The pair made their way down the walkway, followed closely by the alien princesses. They moved with purpose, heading directly toward April and her camera crew. April's professional instincts kicked in, overriding her momentary shock. She straightened her posture and cleared her throat as King Tyson approached.

"King Tyson," she began, her tone respectful yet probing, "can you explain who these people are and why they were on your ships?"

"Of course, April. These are New Yorkers who were captured during the invasion. The aliens had been experimenting on them." A collective gasp rose from the onlookers. April's eyes widened, but she pressed on. "And what's become of these experiments?"

"As the new king and leader of the aliens, I've done everything in my power to reverse the experimentation," Tyson explained, "My goal was to return these people to their homes and families."

April nodded, absorbing the information. "That's certainly admirable, Your Majesty. But what about the aliens responsible for these abductions?"

Tyson's expression hardened slightly. "All the rogue aliens I've encountered have either been killed or returned to the fold. I won't rest until all the remaining aliens that didn't return after the invasion are recaptured. They will face justice for their actions."

April turned her attention to the figure standing beside Tyson. "And what about Siren?"

Siren stepped forward to speak for herself. "I regret the damage my actions caused and the recent loss of life that incident incurred. I'll be remaining with King Tyson to assist in his efforts," she stated.

As Siren spoke, April noticed something peculiar about her eyes. The reporter leaned in slightly, trying to get a better look without being too obvious. Siren's pupils were unmistakably heart-shaped.

Glancing at the alien princesses standing nearby, their eyes bore the same distinctive heart-shaped pupils, to her surprise. Quickly taking in the alien vessels hovering behind them, she saw that on the sides of each ship, a similar black heart symbol was prominently displayed.

"I couldn't help but notice the recurring heart motif," April said, gesturing towards the ships. "Siren's eyes, the princesses' eyes, and even the decoration on the ships. Can you tell us about this symbol?"

Tyson laughed, a warm, rich sound that seemed to put those around him at ease. "Very observant, April. It's become something of a symbol of my leadership."

Before April could inquire further, Boogiedown stepped forward from where the Empire 5 had been watching the proceedings. His stance was tense as if ready to spring into action at any moment.

"A symbol of anarchy, maybe," Boogiedown growled, his voice laced with barely contained hostility.

The atmosphere shifted instantly, and tension crackled in the air. The other members of Empire 5 moved closer, forming a united front behind their teammate.

Tyson, however, seemed unperturbed by the hero's aggressive tone. His lips curved into a smile that was equal parts charm and challenge. "Symbol of Anarchy," he said. "I like that."

The two men locked eyes, neither willing to back down. The crowd held its collective breath, sensing the potential for conflict.

April, ever the professional, seized the moment. "Your Majesty, you mentioned reversing the alien experiments. Can you elaborate on that process? And what exactly were these experiments attempting to achieve?"

Tyson broke his staring contest with Boogiedown, turning his attention back to April. "The experiments were varied," he said vaguely. He gestured towards the rescued New Yorkers being tended to. "We did what we could to ensure their full recovery."

Boogiedown stepped forward, interrupting the interview. "Siren, come back with us. Please. We'll figure everything out." His voice softened, a hint of desperation creeping in. "We know it wasn't your fault. It was something they did to you. Just come and talk with the DA. I'm sure he'll drop the charges."

Siren's face hardened, her heart-shaped pupils narrowing. "No, Boogiedown. I'm doing important work with King Tyson."

April Lane, ever the opportunist, seized on this revelation. "Important work? What kind of work, exactly?"

Tyson smoothly interjected, his charismatic presence drawing all attention. "Two services, primarily." He held up two fingers, ticking them off as he explained. "First, we'll be providing healing services. We can heal nearly any ailment like we healed these men and women." The crowd murmured in amazement, and even the Empire 5 members exchanged glances. "We will provide transport from various points in the city," Tyson continued. "Amputated limbs, illness, neurological diseases, we can heal them all." His voice took on a somber tone. "As penance for the damage and loss of lives the invasion caused, we'll offer this service, once daily, for free going forward."

April's eyes widened. "That's incredible! I'm sure it will be well-received throughout the city."

"It's the least I could do. These aliens aren't just invaders. They're refugees. Their previous king forced them down a path of violence. I'm doing my best to rectify my predecessor's actions."

"Additionally," he added, "as a paid service, we have a fully immersive entertainment experience we'll be offering."

Boogiedown's face contorted with anger. "We can't trust you," he spat. "You abducted Siren and turned her to your side."

Tyson remained calm, his voice level. "Have you seen the footage of what she did? I helped Siren recover. She's been returned to normal now."

"Normal?" Boogiedown scoffed. "You ruin everything you touch. Look at her eyes and tell me that's normal."

The tension in the air was palpable. The crowd held its collective breath, waiting for Siren's response.

Siren's eyes flashed, her voice sharp. "Don't act like you know what's best for me. This is my choice."

Boogiedown recoiled as if struck. The hurt in his eyes was visible even behind his mask. He turned to Tyson, his voice low and filled with venom. "Your heart is black. I won't be part of this."

Without another word, Boogiedown launched himself into the air, his figure quickly becoming a speck against the New York skyline.

The remaining members of the Empire 5 shifted uncomfortably, clearly torn between their loyalty to their teammate and their duty to the city.

Queens Kid couldn't resist breaking the tense silence that followed Boogiedown's dramatic exit. "Well, looks like Boogiedown just crowned you King Blackheart," Queens Kid quipped, gesturing towards the ships with their prominent heart symbols. "Gotta admit, it's got a nice ring to it. Matches your whole aesthetic, too." The crowd's nervous energy shifted, a few chuckles rippling through the gathered onlookers.

Tyson, caught off guard by the unexpected moniker, considered it. King Blackheart. It did have a certain flair with its mix of authority and edgy appeal that seemed to fit his new role perfectly. He turned to April Lane, his smile widening. "What do you think, April? Does it suit me?"

"King Blackheart," she mused. "It does have a certain... power to it. And a memorable quality, Your Majesty. Though I imagine the PR team at City Hall might have a few thoughts on the matter."

Tyson laughed, a rich, warm sound that seemed to dispel the lingering tension further. "I'm sure they will. But then again, I've never been one for conventional PR strategies."

Mirror Image, who had remained silent until now, stepped forward. "A king by any other name would still need to answer for his actions," she said firm but not outwardly hostile. "What are your intentions for New York?"

Tyson turned to face her, his expression becoming more serious. "I intend to heal this city. To make amends for the damage caused by the invasion and to use everything at my disposal to improve the lives of New Yorkers." He gestured towards the rescued civilians. "These people are just the beginning. I intend to use my resources to address the root causes of suffering in this city. Starting with illness and injury."

"That's quite an ambitious agenda, Your Majesty. How do you plan to implement these changes, especially given the current... skepticism from the authorities?"

"Change is never easy, April. But it's necessary. I'm prepared to work with the city officials, the Empire 5, and anyone who shares the goal of making New York a better place for all its residents."

He paused, looking out over the crowd, his gaze sweeping across the faces of the curious onlookers, the wary heroes. "As for the skepticism... well, actions speak louder than words. I intend to let my actions do the talking."

Queens Kid, still riding the wave of his earlier quip, couldn't resist another comment. "So, what you're saying is... King Blackheart has a heart of gold?"

The crowd erupted in laughter, breaking through the vestiges of tension.

Tyson grinned, embracing the moment. "Something like that."

"Your Majesty, these are some bold claims and ambitious plans. How soon can the people of New York expect to see these healing centers in operation?"

"They're not healing centers. The process has stringent requirements. It can only be performed within the mothership. So, anyone seeking healing will need to be transported there. We're prepared to begin immediately. In fact," he gestured towards the ships, "we'll accept anyone who boards these ships for any ailment. They'll remain here for an hour or until filled. If anyone here needs immediate attention, we'd happily accommodate you. Any issues from simple muscle aches to the most complex conditions can be healed." A murmur ran through the crowd. People began to push forward, calling out ailments and injuries.

"Now, now," Tyson said, raising his hands. "We'll get to everyone in due time."

"You can't just take these people away, promising healing with untested, unapproved medical techniques," Mirror Image declared.

April's microphone darted between her and Tyson as the tension escalated. The crowd pressed closer, hanging on every word of the heated exchange.

Tyson approached the returned New Yorkers, gesturing towards them in turn. "This man only had one eye," he said, pointing to a middle-aged gentleman who now blinked with two perfectly functional eyes. "He was missing a hand," Tyson continued, indicating another who flexed his fingers in wonder. As he moved down the line, Tyson listed off ailments that had been cured. "Parkinson's, ACL tear, diabetes." Each person nodded in confirmation.

Turning back to Mirror Image, Tyson's voice took on a challenging tone. "You would deny the city a free solution to their healthcare problems?" He swept his arm towards the looming skyscrapers of the financial district. "All the wealth is concentrated there. Meanwhile, homelessness is rampant in the city." His expression softened slightly as he admitted, "The destruction left behind by the alien invasion is a factor in that, without a doubt, which is why we're working to help now." His voice grew passionate as he continued, "62% of people in bankruptcy are there because of healthcare debt. I can't snap my fingers and build affordable housing, but I can help people with their health ailments."

Mirror Image stood her ground. "Well, what about this immersive VR you're trying to sell?"

"We're going to prove that the aliens can be trusted. What better way than providing some entertainment? We won't charge for healing, but we will charge for providing a service that makes people happy."

"The city can bar you," Mirror Image countered defiantly.

Tyson's eyes narrowed, his voice taking on a steely edge. "Every ship barred from transporting customers seeking our entertainment services will never return to provide free healing. If you ban our ships, you cut off all our services from the people of the city who desperately need it."

Mirror Image's accusation came swiftly. "You would withhold healing because we don't let you sell games?"

Tyson took a step closer, his voice low and intense. "You would force me to withhold healing services for what? Who do you serve? The people? Or the system that forces them into bankruptcy to live?"

The crowd murmured, their reactions a mix of support for Tyson and concern over Mirror Image's warnings. Sensing the moment's gravity, April Lane turned to the camera. "Ladies and gentlemen, we're witnessing a pivotal moment in New York City's history. The clash between established authority and a new, unconventional power is unfolding before our eyes." She turned back to Tyson and Mirror Image. "Your Majesty, Mirror Image, if I may interject. This debate touches on fundamental issues of public health, safety, and governance. How do you propose to bridge this divide?"

"Transparency," he said firmly. "I invite the city's medical professionals, scientists, and officials to observe our healing process. We have nothing to hide. We welcome scrutiny. The more people understand what we're offering, the better. The healing is non-invasive, and no surgeries are required, regardless of the condition. Leaving the shuttles isn't required. You ride over, the procedure happens, and then you leave. It's like going to the car wash."

Mirror Image's posture relaxed slightly, though her voice remained cautious. "And what guarantees do we have that this 'entertainment' won't be used for nefarious purposes?"

Tyson spread his hands in a gesture of openness. "Our goal is to help and entertain, not to harm or exploit."

As the two continued their debate, the crowd's attention was drawn to a commotion near the alien ships. A woman in her late sixties, her gray hair windblown and her eyes wide with hope, pushed her way to the front.

"Please," she called out, "My grandson, he has cystic fibrosis. It's been so hard..." Her voice broke, tears welling in her eyes.

Tyson turned to her, his expression softening. "Ma'am, if you're willing, we can help your grandson right now."

Mirror Image stepped forward, her voice urgent. "Wait, we can't just..."

But the woman was already moving toward the ship with a young child. "I've watched him struggle to breathe every day of his life," she said, her voice gaining strength. If there's even a chance..."

Tyson looked at Mirror Image, his expression challenging. "Are you going to stop her?"

Mirror Image hesitated, the conflict clear on her face. The crowd held its breath, waiting to see how she would respond.

Tyson extended his hand toward the grandmother. "Ma'am, if you'll allow me, I'll personally escort you and your grandson to receive treatment. Mirror Image and any medical professionals she deems necessary are welcome to observe the entire process." He turned to Mirror Image, his voice firm but not unkind. "This is an opportunity to see firsthand what we're offering, verify our claims, and ensure the safety of New York's citizens. Will you join us?"

Mirror Image looked from Tyson to the hopeful grandmother, then back to her fellow heroes. Queens Kid gave a slight nod while Archmage remained impassive.

"I... I will observe," Mirror Image said finally. "But this doesn't mean I approve or endorse anything. I'm here to protect the people of New York, and that's exactly what I intend to do."

"Shall we?"

As Tyson, Mirror Image, and the grandmother made their way toward the alien ship, April Lane turned back to the camera, her eyes alight with excitement.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're about to witness a potentially groundbreaking moment in medical history. This reporter will be following this story closely as it unfolds. Stay tuned for updates on this developing situation."

— The Devil's Villain In A Lewd Superhero World —

ALIEN HEALING MIRACLE: KING BLACKHEART DELIVERS ON PROMISE

By April Lane, New York Daily Tribune

In a stunning turn of events that has left even the most skeptical New Yorkers in awe, King Tyson, the Blackheart, the enigmatic figure who emerged during the recent alien invasion, has made good on his promise to heal the sick and injured. This reporter was on the scene to witness the extraordinary events unfold, and I can confirm that the results are miraculous.

The day began with tense anticipation as a crowd gathered along the East River Greenway. Among them were members of the Empire 5, New York's premier superhero team, who maintained a watchful presence despite clear instructions from city officials to stand down. As the alien mothership loomed overhead, a sleek shuttle descended from its hangar, touching down on a makeshift landing pad.

King Blackheart ushered the first group of patients and observers into the shuttle. Among them was Mirror Image, the Brooklyn-based hero known for her impenetrable shield and unwavering dedication to truth. Following the events, Mirror Image shared her experience with me in an exclusive interview.

The shuttle's journey into the mothership's hangar was brief. Once docked, King Blackheart excused himself, leaving the group in the capable hands of Mirror Image. Despite her initial misgivings, there were no signs of foul play from King Tyson or the aliens. For the next hour, the shuttle remained in the hangar. Mirror Image reported that while there were no overt signs of activity, she could hear faint thumping sounds from deep within the mothership. "It was rhythmic, almost like a heartbeat," she mused. "There were moments where it sped up or stopped entirely, but soon picked back up."

The healing process itself was described as both swift and painless. Patients with ailments ranging from chronic diseases to recent injuries were treated without ever receiving individual attention. Mirror Image observed that even the doctors present, who had come to document and verify the procedures, found themselves unexpectedly improving from conditions they hadn't disclosed.

"I watched a man with a prosthetic leg regrow his limb," Mirror Image recounted, "A woman's blindness retreated before my eyes. It was like watching years of medical advancement compressed into minutes."

Perhaps most remarkably, Mirror Image herself experienced the healing firsthand. A shoulder injury she had sustained during the alien invasion, which she had been stoically enduring, vanished without a trace. "I didn't even mention it," she admitted. "And now, it's as if I was never hurt."

As the shuttle returned to Manhattan and its passengers disembarked, the atmosphere was filled with joy and disbelief. Families reunited with loved ones who had entered the craft with wheelchairs and crutches, now walking unaided.

In light of these events, New York City officials have announced that they will not impede the operations of the alien ships in any way. This decision, while controversial in some circles, has been met with overwhelming support from a populace eager to benefit from the advanced healing technology and experience the full immersion virtual reality King Tyson promised. Blackheart's actions today mark a turning point in human history. In a world often divided by fear and mistrust of the unknown, he has extended an olive branch of unprecedented proportions. The healing of our sick and injured is not just a medical miracle but a balm for the collective soul of our great city. As a journalist, I've witnessed my fair share of extraordinary events, but nothing compares to what I've seen today. King Blackheart has not only kept his word but has exceeded all expectations. His compassion and generosity in sharing with the people of New York City demonstrate a level of leadership and benevolence rarely seen in our troubled times.

The implications of this breakthrough are staggering. Diseases that have plagued humanity for centuries could become a thing of the past. The quality of life for thousands could improve overnight. And it all began here, in New York City, thanks to King Tyson Blackheart.

As we move forward into this new era of healing and hope, one thing is clear…

New York City owes a debt of gratitude to King Blackheart.

However, despite the overwhelmingly positive response to King Blackheart's healing miracle, several pressing questions remain unanswered. Chief among these is the fate of Siren, the former Empire 5 hero representing Staten Island. Siren's actions after the alien invasion have been a source of great concern for both her fellow heroes and the public. The NYPD has officially listed her as a missing person and wanted, and King Blackheart remains a person of interest in her apparent abduction.

Queens Kid, speaking on behalf of the Empire 5, expressed his team's ongoing worry. "We're grateful for his healing, but we can't ignore that one of us is by his side. While we know Siren is alive, we need her back to settle this mess."

Questions about King Blackheart's involvement in the initial alien invasion add to the situation's complexity. While he played a crucial role in repelling the attack, some skeptics argue that his quick rise to power and apparent control over the aliens is suspicious at best.

King Blackheart has denied these allegations, insisting that his actions were solely in defense of Earth and its inhabitants. However, the lack of transparency regarding his origins and sudden appearance during the invasion fuels speculation. Perhaps most controversial is the full immersion virtual reality technology that King Blackheart has unveiled. While many are excited about this technology's possibilities for entertainment and education, others worry about its potential risks. Privacy advocates have also raised alarms about the potential for data collection and manipulation through such an immersive system. The Digital Rights Coalition stated, "Any technology that interfaces directly with our minds poses significant privacy and security risks. We must ensure proper safeguards before making this technology available to the public."

King Blackheart has attempted to address these concerns, promising that all safety protocols have been thoroughly tested and vetted but that the technology and all programming and monitoring are in an alien language, requiring years of study before any independent human scientific testing can be performed.

As New York City grapples with the aftermath of the alien invasion and the miraculous healing King Blackheart offers, it's clear that we are entering uncharted territory. The potential benefits of this new era are immense, but sometimes advancement comes with risks. The coming days and weeks will undoubtedly bring many questions and challenges as we navigate this new reality. Aliens, Superheroes, miraculous healing, and games that give reality a run for its money. But for now, New Yorkers can rest easy knowing that a powerful force that brought our city to its knees now watches over us from the middle of the bay. King Tyson Blackheart brought upon this transformation, and this reporter is eager to see what marvels he will bring to our world next.

Tyson closed the tablet and set aside April's article. He then turned his attention to the workbench, which was littered with alien technology and tools. In the center lay his newest creation, a pair of unassuming glasses.

"Perfect," he murmured, lifting them to examine their deceptively simple frames.

The glasses represented more than just eyewear. They were his ticket to freedom, a shield against the authorities, and Empire 5. Despite the healing he'd provided, Tyson knew the heroes would jump at any chance to bring him in. He slipped the glasses on, feeling their negligible weight settle on the bridge of his nose. The lenses were clear, offering no visible change to his vision. Yet, their power was undeniable.

Artifact of Power: Perfect Disguise

This simple disguise is just what the doctor ordered for any cape who wants to keep their work and private lives firmly separated. Somehow, these simple lenses are all you need to keep your face from being recognized even by people who've met both your identities. They're practically unbreakable and always somewhere close at hand when you need them.

Stepping up to a mirror and studying his reflection, he saw himself unchanged but knew that the connection between this face and King Tyson Blackheart would be impossible to make for others.

"Time for a test run," he said.

The shuttle touched down in a secluded area of Central Park. Tyson disembarked, straightening his casual attire. He took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air and set off down a nearby path. Joggers and dog walkers passed him without a second glance. No one pointed or stared. No hushed whispers followed in his wake.

He wandered into a bustling coffee shop and ordered a latte with a smile. The barista chatted amiably, showing no sign of recognition. Tyson savored both the coffee and the normalcy of the interaction.

As he exited, a commotion down the street caught his attention. A crowd had gathered, phones raised to capture something. Tyson spotted Queens Kid perched on a lamppost, scanning the area. He casually approached the crowd, blending in seamlessly. Queens Kid's gaze swept over him without pause, continuing to search for some unseen threat.

"What's going on?" Tyson asked a nearby onlooker.

"Some kind of alien tech went haywire in a bodega," the man replied, eyes fixed on Queens Kid. "They think it might be connected to that Blackheart guy."

Tyson suppressed a chuckle. He'd have to look into that later but was content to watch the hero's fruitless search for now. As the excitement died down and the crowd dispersed, he found himself face to face with Queens Kid. The hero landed gracefully beside him, offering a friendly nod.

"Sorry about the commotion, sir," Queens Kid said. "Just a false alarm. You have a good day now."

"No problem at all," Tyson replied, meeting the hero's eyes through his glasses. "Thanks for keeping us safe."

Queens Kid smiled and took off, sticking from building to building. Tyson watched him go and began his walk back to Central Park and the awaiting ship.

Test successful.

— The Devil's Villain In A Lewd Superhero World —

Origin: Powerhouse

Character Points: 50

Drawbacks:

Iron Age Morality

Non-Stop Action

Origin Story

Running The Devil's Gauntlet

Renegade

Perks:

Most Common Superpower

Secondary Superpowers

Rescue Romance

World of Cardboard

Superpower: Elemental Darkness (Shadow Step, Shadow Cloak, Intangibility, Blinding Bolt)

Kiss of Life

I Can Do This All Day

Superpower: Technology

Puppet Master

Items:

Symbol of Anarchy (Blackheart)

Artifact of Power x4 (Alien Battle Armor, Disengage Safety Protocols, Every King Needs His Crown)

Vehicle (Alien Mothership)

Big Shoes to Fill

Doomsday Drawings

Companions:

Fire from the Stars

April Lane