The television at The Last Call bar only worked when it wanted to.
It was a massive set, one of those that had been modern twenty years ago, with a screen that flickered in greenish tones and a channel button you had to smack with the palm of your hand. Erick kept it on more out of habit than necessity. Nobody came to the bar to watch television. But the background noise filled the void when there were no customers.
That night, however, everyone was watching the screen.
It was the first Tuesday of April, and every six months, the government of United City broadcast the global hero ranking live. It was the most-watched event on the planet. In all five continental cities — United City, Hirome, Romulus, Nova Bastion, and Kalos — people stopped to see who rose, who fell, who entered the top 10, and who dropped out.
In the South, too. Though no one here expected to see a neighbor on screen.
Ash was drying glasses behind the bar when the broadcast began.
"Turn it up, boss," said one of the customers, a middle-aged man with a Fracture that made his fingertips glow.
Erick grunted, fished the remote out from under a pile of invoices, and smacked the volume button until the announcer's voice filled the place.
---
"Live from Central Plaza in United City, we begin our special broadcast of the World Hero Ranking. With us, the Prime Minister of United City, Alexander Cross."
The camera showed a massive stage, white lights, and a giant screen behind displaying the government emblem: a shield with the city's four zones — North, East, West, and South — united by a circle.
Alexander Cross stepped up to the podium. He was a man in his sixties, silver hair perfectly combed, a smile his image consultants had taught him to wear. He wore a navy blue suit with the Prime Minister's insignia on the lapel.
"Citizens of United City. Citizens of the five continental cities. Citizens of the world."
His voice was deep, rehearsed, measured.
"Today we celebrate the best among us. Those who chose to use their Fractures not for crime, not for personal gain, but for the protection of humanity. Today we honor the heroes."
Ash set down the glass he'd been drying and leaned on the bar. Without realizing it, he was staring.
"But we cannot ignore reality." Cross's smile faded. "United City is the largest, most prosperous, and most advanced city in the world. It is also the most threatened. Criminal organizations like Gray Phantom operate in our streets, spreading fear, controlling the Southern District with an iron fist."
A customer spat on the floor.
"That son of a bitch has never set foot in the South," he muttered.
"If the people reelect me this fall, I promise you this: Gray Phantom will fall. We will clean up the South. Restore order. And no child will have to grow up in fear."
"He's not lying about the last part," Erick said, still wiping down the grill. "Kids in the South grow up scared. Just not because of Gray Phantom. Because of people like him, who promise and forget."
Ash didn't answer. He kept watching the screen.
---
The announcer returned.
"And now, without further delay, the World Hero Ranking. These are the ten best in the world, according to the point system of the Be a Hero Community, established by the world government thirty-seven years ago."
On the giant screen, a number appeared:
TOP 10 — 234,000 POINTS
"From Hirome, the Eastern City, the Shield of Humanity: Circle Shield."
The camera showed a man in his forties, bald, dressed in an impeccable black military uniform. He wasn't smiling. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his eyes stared directly at the camera as if evaluating whoever was watching.
"His Fracture allows him to generate nearly indestructible transparent shields. He can use them to protect himself, as platforms to fly, or as cutting discs to attack. In his thirteen-year career, Circle Shield has protected Hirome from three large-scale villain attacks. His shield has never been broken."
The customer with the glowing fingertips whistled.
Now that's a real hero. Not like the ones here.
"Shut up," said another customer. "It just started."
---
TOP 9 — 310,000 POINTS
"From United City: Clerk."
A figure impossible to ignore appeared. Clerk wore a fluorescent red suit that seemed to glow with its own light. A red motorcycle helmet covered his face completely. At his waist, two crossed katanas.
"His Fracture: he can change his body's weight at will. No known limit to his capacity, and he is unaffected by the increased weight. Legend has it he destroyed an entire street with a single punch using all his strength. His age is unknown. His identity, likewise. Some say Clerk isn't a single person but a title passed down. Others say he just likes mystery."
"That guy's crazy," one customer commented. "I saw him on the news once. He split a building in half."
"Why?"
"Because there was a villain inside."
"What about the civilians?"
Silence.
No one answered.
---
TOP 8 — 600,000 POINTS
"Number one in popularity. The Light of United City: Artorias."
The screen filled with light.
Artorias wore a dark blue latex suit that hugged his body like a second skin. A domino mask covered only his eyes. The rest of his face was exposed: a strong jaw, firm lips, a smile the media called the smile of hope.
"He's thirty years old. His Fracture: he can materialize and manipulate light at will. He can become a being of light, use light as offensive energy, blind his enemies, or simply illuminate the city on its darkest nights. The limits of his abilities are unknown. He is the most beloved hero in United City. He has his own toy line, a television show, and a foundation that helps children with unstable Fractures."
That one lives in the North, said Erick, drying his hands on a rag. I've seen him on the news. Always surrounded by cameras.
"Is that a bad thing?" Ash asked.
Erick looked at him.
"Not bad. It just means he understands the game."
---
TOP 7 — 605,000 POINTS
"Born in Romulus, the Western Continental City: UZZA, the Giant."
A huge man appeared on screen. He wasn't tall at that moment — maybe five foot eleven — but his presence filled the frame. He wore a latex suit with his city's flag on his chest: red, with a golden lion in the center. Sunglasses covered his eyes.
"Thirty-three years old. His Fracture: he can change his body's size. From as small as an ant to as large as a skyscraper. His strength increases and decreases proportionally to his size. In his largest form, UZZA has torn down walls that armies couldn't breach."
"I wonder how his suit fits when he shrinks," one customer said, and the whole bar laughed.
It was the first genuine laugh of the night.
---
TOP 6 — 1,055,000 POINTS
"Max Riot. Twenty-four years old. United City."
The camera showed a young man dressed like a Formula 1 driver. His suit was covered in logos for cars, energy drinks, clothing brands. A helmet with lightning-bolt designs covered his head. He rested one foot against a wall, arms crossed, trying to look relaxed.
"His Fracture: superspeed. Top recorded speed: Mach 11. He can cross United City from end to end in under a minute. He's the youngest hero in the top 10, and also the one who generates the most money from sponsorships."
"That's not a hero," said the customer with the glowing fingertips, disdainfully. "He's a walking advertisement."
"But he's fast," another replied.
"What good is being fast if you don't stop to help anyone?"
Ash listened in silence. In his head, he was beginning to form an idea of what he didn't want to be.
---
TOP 5 — 1,800,000 POINTS
"Finger Gun. Sixty years old. United City."
An elderly man in an elegant tuxedo, a beret, and a cane appeared on screen. He looked more like a grandfather leaving the opera than a hero. But his eyes were sharp.
"His Fracture: he can generate bullets and fire them from any part of his body. The bullets are more powerful and faster than conventional weapons. He doesn't need fingers to fire. He can shoot from his elbows, knees, even his eyes. No one knows how he never runs out of ammunition. He just smiles when asked."
"That's my favorite," Erick said, nodding with respect. "He doesn't seek fame. He just shows up, solves the problem, and leaves."
---
TOP 4 — 2,900,000 POINTS
"Knight Desert. Thirty-eight years old. Nova Bastion, the desert city."
A man in sandals, summer shorts, and a Hawaiian shirt with red flowers waved at the camera with a relaxed smile. He wore sunglasses and a necklace of dried flowers.
"His Fracture: he can manipulate sand at will. He can turn his body into sand, become untouchable, and also turn material objects into sand. He cannot turn living beings into sand. In his hometown, Nova Bastion, he's known as the King of the Desert. They say he once turned an entire building into grains of sand to save a hundred hostages."
That guy's living the life, a customer said. Shorts on the job. That's my dream.
---
TOP 3 — 8,900,000 POINTS
"For the tenth consecutive year at number three: Green Gamma. Thirty-eight years old. United City."
The man who appeared on screen looked like something from a dream. Black domino mask and a green cape that waved without wind. A dark green latex suit that outlined every muscle. Jet-black hair, slightly long, moving gracefully.
"His Fracture: he can produce gamma rays and controlled gamma explosions. He can fly. He has superspeed. It's said that if he used his full strength, he could destroy United City in minutes."
The bar went silent.
"Fortunately, Green Gamma is a man of principles. He has never used his power beyond what was necessary. He is the favorite hero of intellectuals, critics, and anyone who appreciates control over brute force."
"That's the one who scares me most," a customer murmured, lowering his voice as if Green Gamma might hear him from the screen. "Not because he's bad. But because if he ever goes crazy, there's no one who can stop him."
Ash felt a chill. Not from fear. From something else. Because seeing Green Gamma, for a second, he wondered if he could ever reach that level.
Then he laughed to himself.
An Alien from the South. Sure.
---
TOP 2 — 15,900,000 POINTS
"For the eleventh consecutive year at number two: Orbiter. Sixty-five years old. United City."
An older man, dressed in a military uniform decorated with five stars and gold insignias, saluted stiffly. His back was straight. His jaw, clenched. His gaze, fixed on the horizon.
"His Fracture: he can control gravity at will. Capacity unknown. Most heroes on the ranking, including several in the top 10, have publicly stated that when Orbiter is present, there is no enemy, situation, or villain he cannot control."
"That's the real number one," said the customer with the glowing fingertips.
"Then why isn't he?" another asked.
No one knew how to answer.
---
TOP 1 — 68,000,000 POINTS
"For the fifteenth consecutive time. The Savior of Humanity. The one who eliminated Slim Shadow, the most feared villain in history. The Unmatched One. The Savior of Earth."
The screen went black for a second. Then, he appeared.
The Absolute "Overman."
Forty years old. Dressed in a dark blue latex suit and a black cape that looked like it was made of liquid shadow. Broad shoulders. Muscular body. The suit had shoulder pads and plates that looked like armor carved directly onto his body. He wore no mask. His face was that of a man who had never known fear.
"His Fracture: Overman appears to possess multiple abilities. According to government records: superspeed — close to the speed of light —, superstrength — capable of carrying objects weighing as much as planets —, superdurability — never, in his entire career, has he been seen to suffer an injury or appear fatigued —, and the ability to create clones of himself, up to ten, though each clone divides his power among them."
The bar was completely silent.
"Overman is not only the most powerful hero in the world. He is the standard against which all others are measured. And according to sources close to the government, he has no intention of retiring anytime soon."
The broadcast continued with interviews and analysis, but Ash stopped listening.
His gaze was fixed on Overman.
On his perfect face. On his flawless suit. On his shoulder plates that looked carved for a god.
That's a hero, he thought.
But he didn't feel admiration.
He felt something colder. Something heavier.
Because Overman was the world's hero. The one who saved entire cities. The one who appeared on the news.
And yet, Eliot had died fifteen minutes from The Last Call bar.
And no hero had come.
Even Overman can't save everyone.
---
Erick turned off the television with a smack of his palm.
"That's it. Show's over. Back to your drinks."
The customers returned to their conversations, but the atmosphere had changed. Talking about heroes in the South always left a bitter taste. Like talking about food when you're hungry.
Ash went back to drying glasses.
"Boss," he said, not looking at him.
"What?"
"Do you think any hero on that ranking has ever set foot in the South?"
Erick was quiet for a moment. Then he let out a short, humorless laugh.
"Overman has a foundation. Donated millions to rebuild the schools in the South."
"And?"
"And the schools are still broken, Ash. The money disappeared. No one knows where. And Overman never asked."
Ash set the glass down on the bar.
"So heroes don't exist."
"They exist," Erick said, with a certainty that surprised Ash. "They exist. But they're not the ones on TV. The real ones are in the streets. The ones no one sees. The ones with no ranking, no points, no sponsors."
Erick looked him directly in the eyes.
"You want to become a hero, don't you?"
Ash opened his mouth to deny it, but Erick raised a hand.
"Don't lie to me. I've seen you training in the alley. I've seen the gray light. And I've seen how you watch the TV when they talk about them."
A pause.
"Just one thing, Ash. If you're going to do it, do it right. Don't end up like the ones on the ranking, more worried about points than about people. Got it?"
Ash nodded.
"Got it, boss."
Erick grunted and went back to the kitchen.
Outside, in the streets of the South, the streetlights kept flickering.
And somewhere in the city, a woman in a black trench coat stared at a photo of a boy with ash-blond hair and pale blue eyes.
Found you.