Chapter 1: Introductions. Part 1: David, Tai, and Ben
Two weeks before the invasion, David changed his position, moving from the formation of a bullet with his arms outstretched, to a form where his legs come down like an eagle preparing to pluck a scurrying mouse. As he approached the top of an office building, plain and grey, he skidded to a landing, on both feet, his green sneakers taking the abuse of cement scratching on it as David slowed his flight. He stood tall and strong and looked out to the glorious sunny day while brushing the brown hair out of his eyes.
Then he turned towards whence he came and there he could see, a boy, no older than twelve, spinning through the air. The boy looked a lot like him, barely twelve, and with a rounder face. His hair was of a darker shade and he looked more like a mop was attacking his head. His eyes were blue, which matched his t-shirt and shorts and his half-length cape. He threw one gloved hand towards a building, his pale pink arm stretching out like an elastic band and his hand immediately stuck to the side like glue. He was soon no longer spinning but swinging through the air as his rubber band-like arm caused him no arm or discomfort while he travelled. This arm let go and slowly retracted while the other reached out to another building, a flow of stretch, stick, swing, retract, stretch, stick, swing, retract, until he landed right beside David. And this boy was Tyler Gem, but everyone just called him Tai.
“Why’d you stop,” Tai asked as he hopelessly tried to move the hair from his eyes. David reached into one of many yellow pouches on his belt and pulled out a vibrating radio with garbled voices and sounds of alarms. This radio also had a screen that streamed bits and pieces of information up and down in green text.
“Silent alarm was tripped at a Bank of America at Farragut West,” David announced with a grin. “This looks like a job for Fistman and Gumboy!” Tai grumbled and rubbed his face.
“Just so long as you don’t introduce us like that again,” Tai said.
“It’s all about presentation, heroes must be grandiose!”
“So you keep saying but when has that ever worked out for us?”
“That one time with Kite Master,” Fistman said, his enthusiasm not waning despite the fact his nephew was shaking his head.
“It’s Kite Master, Uncle Fists. That never counts,” Tai grumbled.
“We’ll discuss this later, right now; we have a bank to save and citizens to protect!” David said swiftly as he ran and jumped from building to building into the general direction of Farragut West while Tai stretched out his arms and followed in suit.
The pair soon descended upon the crowded square filled to the brim with cars and people, particularly people running away from one corner bank. They were met with shock and awe but also cheers and smiles. A sort of mismatched circle formed around the bank of a few spectators while a pair of police cars arrived.
Fistman and Gumboy landed several feet away and stared intently at the bank while four police officers came out of their cars, almost ready to quell the situation.
"Think you all can handle this, officer?" Fistman asked one approaching officer.
"We should." The officer said sternly, looking at the uncle and nephew pair as though they caused everything. His partner, a female officer stepped in front of him with a bit more of an open mind.
"Reports are that it's one of your bogeys, a man with large feet." She said, trying not to stare at Fistman's large hands. Gumboy slouched and sighed while Fistman was oblivious to the officers' suspicion.
"My nemesis Kickman, thank you officer, I think we can stop this, but I need you and Gumboy here on crowd control, I can't have any potential hostages getting hurt," He said excitedly while looking to the bank with fire in his eyes.
"Us on crowd control? This isn't your job, vigilante; we're in charge here!" the first officer said but before his words could be understood, Fistman was already running towards the bank. Gumboy looked between his fleeing uncle and the police officers and he sighed again.
"Sorry, I'd stop him if I knew how," Gumboy said as he jogged along after his uncle.
"This is crazy, why haven't we arrested this psycho?" the first officer grumbled.
"Do you want to try that?" asked one of the other officers who had just arrived. The first officer thought about Fistman's unusually swollen hands and imagined the force he could crush with them and cursed to himself as he decided that actually trying to capture the man would be a bad idea.
As the pair halted in front of the bank, they knelt down below the wide windows, just barely out of sight. They watched civilians, dozens of them, mostly people in suits looking scared, all of them on the ground. There was a hole on the other side where the man who stood in the middle of the bank he just broke in. He was tall, his hair a dirty brown, and his clothing was tacky; an indigo and violet tracksuit with the sleeves torn right off, complete with headband. The man had a crazed look in his hazel eyes and a wild frown below his terrible scratchy moustache. He stomped about the room, occasionally giving threatening looks to anybody who dared to raise a head. His body was tense, but aimless, there was no rhyme to the way strutted about the room and no reason behind his threats of violence.
He was once a scientist, Kevin Le, an associate of David Gem’s. However, they were both rivals in an opportunity to become part of a major scientific project in the field of human advancement. David had won and Kevin was infuriated. The details of the time in between was fuzzy, but Kevin had come to the conclusion Fistman was not David, but a direct reust of his work and Kevin decided to play the same game with his own body.
“Okay Tai, here’s the plan, I distract him from the front doors while you stealth round through the hole and start sneaking the hostages out,” Fistman said excitedly as he rubbed his hands together in great anticipation.
“Well as long as you’re the one getting beat up,” Gumboy said.
“AH!” Fistman and Gumboy both jumped suddenly as they heard a third voice. The interloper put a finger over his concealed mouth and the pair immediately covered their mouths. The Police at the barrier were just as shocked as they were, for who could’ve seen the boy coming? Who was this dark skinned flat-topped ninja in a black and white jumpsuit and headband? While the city knew him as the mysterious Shinobi, the Uncle-Nephew pair knew him as
“Ben!” They both said in hushed voices.
“Sorry to intrude,” He said politely, his voice rather deep for his age, a mere two years older than Tai. He was rather lean and tall with room to grow. The only visible features of his countenance were his round nose and thin black eyes.
“The art of not being seen does not apply to friends, Ben!” Tai sternly said to the very calm companion.
“And miss a chance to practice what I have learned? The Shinobi said peaceably.
“We’re glad to have your help, Ben!” Fistman said as with a big thumbs up.
“But not the heart attack…” Gumboy muttered.
“I presume I should help Tai while you distract big foot?” Ben asked while carefully eyeing the scenario. Fistman responded with a wink and two thumbs up.
“Consider it done.,” he said softly and suddenly, intense sunlight reflected from a nearby building at just the correct angle to blind most of the people in the area. Just like that, he was gone just as mysteriously as he arrived.
“I wish I could study that phenomenon!” Fistman said excitedly.
“Back to the issue at hand, uncle,” Tai groaned as he patted his Uncle on the shoulder and pointed at the bank.
“Exactly, my boy!” Fistman said as he ambled towards the bank whilst Gumboy slithered around the building. Once his nephew was out of sight, Fistman got up and barged through the glass double-doors of the bank entrance. The people in the room gasped as Kickman turned and saw his dreaded rival enter the scene with a goofy triumphant smile on his face and his hands on his hips.
“You!” Kickman growled.
“Fistman!” Many among the hostages cried.
“Have no fear, fair citizens!” Fistman said gallantly. “Fistman is here!” And as he made his announcement and looked around the room, he took a boot to the chest and was sent flying through the doors he just jumped through with an ear piercing shatter and skidded across the pavement, the crowd outside gasped and the coppers already had their guns trained on the now non-existent door. Where Fistman previously stood, Kickman was there.
“Weak! Worthless!” Kickman yelled in wide-eyed frustration. He stared down his opponent who was slowly standing himself up. “Of course you would come to the rescue of these inferior beings! How else would I find you?”
“Well I don’t have “Fist Signal” but I bet you could make one for me,” Fistman grinned through his barely dusted mask. It would take more than that to mark a man of his strength. “You know Kevin, we don’t have to do this! I can help you!” Fistman announced with his arms out wide, trying to welcome is opponent. Kickman merely spat.
“That would be losing!” Kickman declared. He took one great stomp forward, a step that could be heard from a mile. “My genetic evolution is superior to yours, I can prove it, I can can can! You just need to lose, mano a mano! None of your fancy gadgets or science experiments! I could have investors as far as the eye can see, but you ruin everything!”
Fistman rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Come now Kevin, now you’re just being delusional,”
“DON’T CALL ME KEVIN!” Kick man shouted as he stomped angrily once again. “I can get what I want, I have the upper foot! You do one little trick and the hostages die! They die!”
“What hostages?” Gumboy said snidely behind Kickman with Shinobi right beside him. Kickman turned around and saw that the bank had been emptied with only a few stragglers being led out by some police officers. Kickman blanched and his countenance grew uglier. He turned from the two young boys and faced his smug-looking rival once more.
“You really should pay more attention,” Fistman chuckled as he reached into one of his belt pouches. Kickman was spitting and sputtering, completely speechless while Gumboy and Shinobi grinned at his sheer disbelief.
“As should you, villain,” Cried a young voice and before anyone could react, a young man in beige and silver samurai armor had struck the side of Fistman’s head with a sword. The impact produced a metallic clank and Fistman fell over with blood spurting from his head in a sudden flash of red
“Samurai!” Shinobi yelled.
“UNCLE!” Gumboy cried. They ran right past Kickman to aide their fallen comrade, but just before they could reach Fistman’s assailant, the young blade wielder had leapt into the air, possible ten feet, and landed haphazardly beside Kickman.
“What. Do. You. Want?” Kickman said, barely shaking out of his stupor.
“The Samurai of Aether seek you,” the young man said shortly.
“And they sent you, Samurai Kit? Were they truly out of decent messengers?”
“Don’t underestimate me! I just took out Fistman!” the boy named Samurai Kit wailed at Kickman who was vastly taller than him.
“You think that killed him? You are truly out of your league, samurai!” Kickman said as he looked away from the young’un with crossed arms.
“Which is why we need to go!” Samurai Kit said. He took his blade and held it above him and it glowed with a gray light. He swung down swiftly and in a flash he and Kickman were gone. In the meanwhile, Shinobi cursed the escape of their foes, but remained at the side of Fistman who was on the ground, eyes closed and left temple erupting with blood. Gumboy was quick to deal with the issue; he had covered the wound with a seal of his own gum and helplessly watched his uncle come to, his head in a pool or the warm red fluid.
“Uncle! Uncle Fists! Are you okay?” Gumboy cried, trying not to move his uncle. Fistman had no trouble moving himself, however. He was quick to get up on his knees and feel the side of his head while wiping the blood from his face, smearing it in his pure white gloves.
“Damage minimal, barely a scratch, not even a dent in my skull!” Fistman said cheerily. He sounded a little sore but wasn’t the least bit disoriented.
“But all the blood…” Gumboy remarked.
“The head is where a lot of blood is concentrated,” Fistman explained with his finger pointing at his reddened cranium with a matter of fact tone. “Most minor injuries up here can look far worse due to just how much we bleed, our heads are like big old blood sacks, a lot of blood pumps in this general direction through all those large veins in our neck, it’s why it’s a prime spot for vampi-”
“Very interesting, I’m sure, Doctor, but our enemies have escaped,” Shinobi said sternly.
“Well are the people safe?” Fistman asked.
“Then we’ve done the important part!” Fistman said proudly as he got to his feet. “And good on you, Gumboy, sealing this wound with your chicle constructs was a good quick fix!”
“No big deal, Uncle Fists,” The calmer Gumboy said as he rubbed the back of his head. “Just don’t fall into any sawmills or anything, I can’t fix you all the time.” Fistman laughed at the remark while Shinobi sighed.
“You must lighten up, Benjamin, we’ve won this battle!” Fistman said as he patted the boy on the back. Shinobi slouched.
“Have we, Doctor? Do you not find it odd that my foe would so urgently try to rescue yours? They run under completely different circles, they have no need to align themselves with one another!”
“Of course I do!” Fistman said. Shinobi’s eyes widened at this revelation.
“This actually only furthers Uncle Fist’s theory,” Gumboy said sternly.
“But we won’t discuss this here, the cops are looking at us funny,” Fistman said as he took the two young boys by the waist and was off like a rocket into the clear blue sky. The trio swept through the air, buffeted by the sheer force. Fistman’s flight was like a controlled cannonball fire, he could rarely slow down, he couldn’t float, he was on one setting: jet. Gumboy felt his body get stretched by the sheer force while Shinobi was desperately trying to keep his headband and mask on his face.
A few blocks away, Fistman skidded ungracefully along a skyscraper rooftop, letting go his two passengers who adjusted to their sudden halt in speed accordingly. Shinobi rolled across the ground gracefully and was quickly back on his feet whilst Gmboy relaxed his body and he hit the rooftop softly, his body briefly getting wobbly before he was back to his typical anatomy.
Shinobi crossed his arms and looked expectantly at his two allies.
“Well?” Shinobi said shortly.
“Well,” Gumboy said as he turned to his uncle. Fistman smacked his forehead.
“Right! Well, the theory! Well me boys, here’s how the story goes! First, Ben, have you noticed something or anything odd in the past fortnight concerning supervillains?” Ben cocked his head.
“Fortnight means two weeks,” Gumboy said.
“I know what it means, I was thinking…” Shinobi muttered. He thought a little more, his crossed arms pressed closer to his chest. “Umm... Well, they’ve been sort of quiet, less crimes, less attacks, less appearances, less everything I guess.”
“That’s right,” Fistman exclaimed as he gave the boy a congratulatory pat on the back. Shinobi tried to hide the fact he just got winded by that simple pat. “The baddies have been doing almost nothing! They’re disappearing, hiding, all the ones we haven’t put away, they’re just not doing anything!”
“But what about the new ones?” Shinobi inquired, his face screwing up in frustration. “Even when our mainstays are gone there’s always a new one coming out of nowhere, popping up through some freak accident or that strange energy thing you’ve been tracking.”
“No activity whatsoever, what does that tell you, Ben?” Fistman said as his grin grew and grew.
“Calm before the storm syndrome?” Shinobi asked. Fistman cheered.
“Give the guy a medal,” Gumboy snickered.
“Exactly Ben, exactly! Something’s brewing, and it’s all connected!” Fistman said.
“I don’t buy it.” Shinobi said. “Almost every single one of our opponents has different motives: revenge, money, ruling the world, a new home, fame, some were just angry over a parking ticket! And you and I deal usually with different baddies.”
This was true. While Fistman, Gumboy, and the Shinobi were all superheroes within the DC Metropoltan area, their opponents were usually not similar. Fistman and Gumboy usually dealt with crimes big and small, fighting beings that threatened the district to small time crooks, most of them superpowered humans mysteriously mutated. Shinobi had a specific agenda mandated by the secret ninja academy he trained at to combat a syndicate of rival warriors trying to undermine society in more covert ways for domination. He helped with normal crime on the side.
“Yeah, that’s where he lost me too,” Gumboy shrugged. “But listen more; it’ll start to make sense.”
“Well that’s where you got lost and I found answers! I took a different perspective,” Fistman said as he pulled from one of his yellow pouches, an electronic meter with a pair of antennae. He flicked the switch on the side and turned a few dials and as the needle on the meter swished back and forth the screen began to glow a bright glow.
“The random mutations that caused so many superpowered humans to appear, some of our more focused villains, they all had something in common! This radiation I discovered! All their fantastic genetic mutations and abilities seem to stem from a common energy spike! It’s remarkable really, I haven’t discovered all of its properties yet but it seems to be capable of rapidly accelerating human evolution on a specified pattern with the common side-effect of manic behavior and psychotic breakdowns! It took forever to find the base signature for this energy let me tell you-,”
“A-hem!” Gumboy interrupted while tapping his foot. “The point, Uncle Fists? We’re laypersons, remember?” Fistman slapped his head again.
“Right, right! So the point is that I have been tracking the radiation on a wide scale, had to hijack a few satellites in order to do it and used some of my own, but I have it all figured out! That energy signature, it’s from beyond our galaxy and it’s coming here!”
Fistman breathed heavily after his dramatic speech. Gumboy was grinning proudly with his hands on his hips while Shinobi still looked vaguely unimpressed.
“Problem with your spaceman theory, Doctor,” Shinobi said “Wouldn’t NASA or some of Earth’s big fancy telescopes have seen this?”
“If they invented space travel, then they probably invented cloaking Mr. Art-of-not-being-Seen,” Gumboy said.
“Good point…” Shinobi replied.
“Tai is right, which is exactly why we need to research and prepare!”
“I have a few friends I’m going to call, and if my signal is good enough, I might even get a few extras,” Fistman said with a delightful thumbs up.
“I shall see what information I can get from my teachers at the Yin Yang academy. If the Samurai of Aether are involved, then surely their enemies will know of something.”
“Excellent! Then Tai and I will let you know when we learn of something!” Fistman said excitedly.
“When he learns of something, I have soccer practice,” Tai rolled his eyes. “We’ll catch you later, Ben.” And with that, Gumboy leaped off the side of the building, outstretched one arm and was soon swinging across the district.
“Wait for me!” Fistman said as he jetted off right after his nephew.
“Balance find us all,” Ben muttered to himself as he leapt in the opposite direction of his friends and ran alongside the building.