Major Comic's main building occupied fifteen floors of a skyscraper. Mike stood in the lobby, fifteen minutes early for his interview at 10 o'clock. He dressed professionally, in a suit similar to ones he's in when terrorising heroes and civilians. He considered cancelling multiple times.
He remembered what an old friend had told him when he was in a similar situation. 'Do the thing that scares you'. So here he was.
A young woman approached with a clipboard in her hands and a professional smile.
"Mr Hastings? They're ready for you in conference room B. I'll guide you there," she told him.
He decided to use a fake identity. Better safe than sorry when your alternate persona is one of the most wanted criminals on the planet.
Mike followed, taking the elevator to the twelfth floor. He was then led to the conference room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Two men and a woman were waiting for him, all seated and with blank expressions.
"Arthur Hastings. Please sit. I'm Richard Burg, executive editor. To my left is Amanda Rodriguez, our creative director, and to my right is James Park, marketing," said the man in the middle, extending his hand.
Mike shook hands with all three before sitting down.
"We've been following your Spider-Man series, and we all agree that the character work is exceptional. It's the type of writing we look for in our flagship titles," Richard started.
"Thank you."
"Your sixth issue was what really got us interested. It was incredibly mature storytelling, and right now it's the type of direction Major Comics would want to pursue," Amanda joined in, leaning forward.
Mike nodded and waited. He could sense a 'but' coming.
"We'd like to bring you on staff. Initially as a contributor to our Spider-Man anthology series, we would like to produce it. Eight issues to start. We'll see how you work within our editorial structure, and if it goes well and we meet certain quotas, we can discuss ongoing opportunities," Richard continued.
"Anthology series? Meaning I'll be one of several writers working on Spider-Man?" Mike asked.
"Correct. It'll allow us to explore different aspects and ideas with the character. You'll have creative input but within parameters set by our senior editors," added Amanda.
Mike felt the trap. The offer sounded good, but it meant giving control of his original work to the company. Sophist would never work within someone else's framework.
Mike wasn't supposed to be Sophist right now, but maybe they were more alike than he thought.
"Can I ask a question?" Mike said.
"Of course," said James.
"Why Spider-Man? You have your own characters. Why focus on my own property?" Mike asked.
"We're always looking for fresh characters and original ideas that readers would love. We believe Spider-Man to be one of those characters," Richard answered with a smile.
"What kind of parameters would I be working with?"
"Editorial oversight on plot and characterisation. Our senior team will review outlines and scripts, providing feedback to ensure consistency. It will be a standard freelance agreement. You'll earn five thousand per issue, and if performance meets expectations, you'll have the opportunity to work with us further," Amanda answered, pulling out a contract.
"I appreciate the offer, but I would like to propose an alternative," Mike replied carefully.
"We're listening," Richard replied.
"I don't want to work within parameters. I want to create my own series with full creative control. You get to publish it under your name, and I get to write my vision with the benefit of having people read it," Mike replied.
"That's... ambitious for someone with no professional credits and a small webcomic following," James replied with a laugh.
"I know, but I know my work better than anyone. You offered me a job because you know I have the skills. You know what I can do with my characters," Mike responded.
"Original series from unknown creators are high-risk investments," Amanda replied.
"They're also how you move forward in comics. How else do you build new IP instead of recycling existing properties? I want to join Major Comics as a creator with ownership of my own work," Mike replied.
The silence stretched for a while. It was uncomfortable, and Mike was wondering if he had completely fucked up the interview. Richard exchanged glances with his associates.
"Give us a pitch. Right now in thirty seconds," Richard told Mike.
"I want to create a comic that inspires the people who read it and teaches them to be better versions of themselves. I want to create characters people can relate to and feel a connection with besides, I wish I was cool like him. I want to create a story that makes the readers think and feel about their own situations and relationships. Comics are an art form, and I believe I should treat them as such," Mike responded.
"And you think that sells?" Amanda asked.
"Eight issues as a mini-series. Your concept and you'll have full creative control. The split will be seventy-thirty in our favour. If it performs well, we'll discuss whether we'll continue working with each other," Richard offered.
Mike was a bit upset about the split, but for a complete newbie with his first contract, it wasn't that bad, especially for eight issues.
"Deal."
They shook hands and discussed timelines. Mike would submit a detailed series outline in two weeks with an art team that is to be assigned.
An hour later he was back in his apartment, and it was exactly as he left it. He set the contract on his desk, looking at it.
He realised that he had no one to talk about his new success with. Mike sat down at his desk and pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts. Willow.
His finger hovered over the call button and then moved it. It was too much too fast. Mike sat down his phone and walked away from it.
...
Dr Brittle was standing before the containment unit.
"Status report on Bette Noir?" he asked his assistant.
"Psychic emanations increasing. The entity is becoming more active and more... aware," Jennifer replied.
Brittle moved closer to the observation window, seeing nothing inside. Bette Noir was beautiful darkness, a woman turned into a psychic horror that struggled to maintain physical cohesion. She was getting stronger.
"What's causing the increased activity?" asked Brittle.
"Unknown," Jennifer replied.
"Bette Noir is drawn to psychic power. It needs to feed on consciousness. Can you pull up the readings for 14:07?" asked Brittle.
Jennifer pulled up the data on her datapad and showed it to Brittle.
"She's being drawn to Martian Manhunter. The increased activity seems to coincide with when he was active in Denver. His psychic signatures would be like a... beacon. An invitation for a feast," Brittle continued.
Inside the containment unit, the darkness seemed to pulse. It knew they were there, and it knew that the two Martians were vast sources of psychic energy.
Bette pressed against the glass before her hand dissipated. Soon she would escape, and the barriers to keep her contained would fail.
They always did.