Hebert, eh? Trying to worm its way in here...

Blame Derleth.

Agreed.

I need more.

That took me a minute, then I did the math… Excellent twist!

I think OP is just looking for the origin story for Jimmy Space aka the God Emperor of Mankind. I recommend Warhammer 40k if you like this prompt

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I love this lol

Excellent work

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The hobo king

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I like this take since nowadays most stories here when involving superheroes tend to paint them not much better than supervillians.

92.1 MHz “Measures are still underway to mitigate damage. Worldwide—”

103.5 MHz “Please proceed to the nearest shelter. Assist your neighbours and those who—”

107.3 MHz “Our efforts to avert the danger have failed, but failure isn’t fatal. We, as a nation, must—”

Last thing I wanted to hear now were old recordings of PSAs and the President’s speech. The FM radio choked and died after that one. Faulty antenna, if I had to guess. Not like I could come out there and check. A phantom buzzing still filled the bunker for a minute or so before true silence set in. What a mess. It didn’t take long for the quiet to become oppressive. I turned on the AM receiver.

590 kHz “Welcome to the last Greatest Hits show on Earth. No one can sue me for copyright infringement in the apocalypse so here’s Highway to Hell—”

630 kHz “Anyone wants to give me some tips on how I should furbish my bunker? How about something in 90s fashion? I have power tools, supplies, and only seven cans of food, so I might as well—”

790 kHz “You’re not alone. I’m not sure who’s listening, but I’m guessing someone needs to hear this. It’s okay. We can be together until the end. Just don’t turn off the radio. Listen to my voice…”

I stopped on that one.

I did not know what to expect. There were worried expressions, fear, and curiousity, in differing measures.

I paused, mind working overdrive. I had considered revealing myself, but... not like this.

Still, no plan survives enemy contact. To try and break the silence, I asked the storyteller if he minded if I finished the tale.

He nodded, hesitantly.

I spoke, remembering the words. Feeling the sounds as they rolled out into the night, shaping the black ink around us into a painting of a young child and a mentor, avoiding their destiny as much as possible, to avert a fate neither of them wanted.

Faces slowly relaxed, but remained alert and wary.

When I finished, I fell silent. Then I nodded at them and left, sinking back into the warm inviting darkness.

There was much hushed discussion over the next few days, until one of them wandered off and lost his sense of direction, and began walking away from the group, despite mumbling to himself that he thought this was the way back to the others.

I appeared in front of him, and he blanched. I simply pointed my limb, and spoke quietly, indicating where the others were in case he was trying to reunite with them, and providing directions. Then I disappeared again.

In time, they began to be more comfortable with my presence as I guided them away from dangers. There were still wide eyes and rapid breathing when I revealed myself, but I told them a new story, one I'd created.

Eventually, they settled down, and I began sitting on a rock nearby where a statue once stood. First hidden, then visible. I rarely stood, but to fend off yet another of my kind intent on slaughter as they appeared over the decades. Every night, the humans sat nearby and told stories to each other, and I listened.

Now, a generation later, the adults have only ever known me as a friend. One who stands apart, but not away. I am comfortable on this rock, with good company and smiles and stories to share. I don't speak, any more, but I still get asked questions with no expectation of an answer.

It's... nice.

And the part of me that could be called a soul, once battered and soaked in blood, slowly begins to heal.

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[removed]

That's just anyone trying to learn a new language

Still as the air on a cold winter night, I stand on a plinth of weather-worn rough-hewn stone, looking out over the valley I reside in. It has no name, it had nothing of importance, and was utterly unremarkable — until a few decades ago.

I am a warrior. My weapons have seen combat, shed both metaphorical and literal blood, ended the existences of so many beings that I have since lost count. My mind shies from remembering their faces, afraid of being overwhelmed by guilt and shame.

Once, I was Kryta, of second platoon, ninth company, first division of the Seventh Legion. Together, we ravaged continents, exploded mountains, and committed every crime against decency we could think of — in the name of a ephemeral society that crumbled even as we fought to defend it. Terror, the truest of weapons, was traded in equal measure with the equally faceless and demonized troops of the Enemy.

Now, I stand guard. To atone for my sins, a worn-through and weatherstained copy of a book clutched tightly under my cloak. I found it, an archaic artefact of the past, when the Seventh Legion dissolved around me and I had no purpose. The very thought of a book was so alien to me that I investigated.

A Critique of Pure Reason, and other works by Immanuel Kant

Fascinated by the anachronistic item in front of me, I could not help but pick it up and gently open it to a random page. For hours, days, weeks, I stood there, reading.

Reading, and thinking.

I did not believe most of what this Immanuel had to say. But one thing was in fact clear to me — an alien thought that wormed its way into my brain, and took root. Growing, until I could not ignore it.

I broke from my daze and continued wandering. By happenstance I came across a small group of survivors. Humans. I shadowed them, listening. They were concerned about food, water, but they told stories of stars, and fantastical beasts, and ancient heroes and gods and struggles. Each with cores of morality embedded within.

I remember them all.

I followed them as they wandered through ruined cities for days, weeks. Listening. Thinking.

Thinking about myself, and what I was. And what I could do.

At some point, they stumbled across another survivor, this one from the Sixth. I think. When they raised a weapon at my ... charges, I separated their power supply from their processing unit with the bead I habitually drew on every potential threat.

They were extremely startled, and I did not reveal myself. There were no stories that night, just fearful glances into the darkness that pooled away from the makeshift campfire. They warily returned to their wandering, and the stories slowly resumed. This did not repeat itself.

And then, after a while, I surprised myself one night. One of the humans was telling a story, one I had heard before from this group. They were having trouble recalling the next stanza, and I found myself speaking.

Of light and dark, our hero comes /

Once a soldier, once a pawn /

Thrice betrayed /

He comes at dawn

I revealed myself.

(part 2 after dinner :) )

What jerkins did you do to subject 980?!??

I gave him the paper and hid the key—

YOU IDIOT! YOU FORGOT TO WRITE THE PAPER AND LEFT A BLANK NOTE! WE HAVEA DEAD PERSON IN OUR ESCAPE ROOM THANKS TO YOU

The Supervillians weren't merciful to Bob Hebert.

They played games with Heroes, most of who are trying to help people or at least limit the damage. But villains don't care really; they are the cause of 99% of damages.

Hence why they are villains.

While defending yourself is appropriate going out of your way to hubt down criminal without powers is dangerous. Murdering Destructonator might be valid... but evil doesn't care.

It found Bob. it Found Bob's Family...

What villians like Hellspawn, Blooddrinker and MEGASPIKE did to the family was horrific. They made an example of him and his family... They're still alive, but the scares never left.

This is why the code exists. while they were eventually caught and tired, heroes don't bring the law into their own hands for a reason. They are bound to the 'game' as it where.

Remember, this is why Heroes exist; to help get justice, to help repair the destuction villians cause due to their desire to hurt people.

You are not a villian, but eneither are you a superhero.

Marking this to check l8r

More like pulped cthulu

##Moonlight on the Gun Barrel

I sit next to Brandon on the porch of his farm. The rocking chairs are faulty, and pieces of wood are missing from the floor. There was a roof, but all that remains are pillars. The next owner will have to fully furbish it, but its decayed fashion fits our conversation.

“You don’t have to do this. I’m eighty-two; I could go any day now.” He smiles at me. “Failure isn’t fatal; they just want you to think that.”

“It was for you,” I reply.

“Only after I lived a long life of freedom.” The sun sets over the crops before us. “The hardest part was forgetting. Forgetting is painful when your conscious is heavy.”

“So I’ve heard,” I say.

“May I make a request on the method? Consider a favor to a brother in arms,” he says. I have no fraternal feelings for him, but I nod anyway. “When the moon rises, I want you to shoot me in the head. Get it over.”

“I can do that.” Within a half hour, the moon rises. I pull out my handgun and complete the job. I get in my car and drive off.

r/AstroRideWrites

“Thank you for joining me, I understand it must’ve been a choice to come and meet me.”

The green creature’s plan worked. Instead of abductions as arm restraints, the Galactic Empire’s Head of Research opted for an interrogation modeled after the human “interview” technique. The interrogation room was remodeled after a cafe of the subject’s local area. Humans are offered a complimentary meal and the option to opt out and have their memory wiped instead.

“I would just like to talk to you in order to update our records on humanity.” The researcher continued. “Can I have your assurances that you are answering these questions to the best of your ability?”

“You can bet your house on it.” Doug answered, staring at the cheeseburger in front of him.

“Why would I?”

“What?”

“Why would I wager my home on such an important thing?”

“Well, I mean because you are guaranteed to win, so you won’t lose it.”

“If I fear losing it, why would I wager it in the first place?”

Doug and the researcher stared at each other.

“Perhaps we should start again.” The researcher interrupted.

“Agreed, we had just gotten off at the wrong foot.”

The researcher looked at both pairs of feet under the table. “How do you know which one is the wrong one?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Doug began to move his fork closer to his mouth.

“Regardless, I would appreciate it if you share progress on humanity’s progress in unlocking faster than light space travel.”

“Unfortunately sir, that ain’t my expertise. But we do got the cream of the crop at NASA figuring that out.”

“Crop?” The researcher’s intrigue slips through its voice. “Does your vegetation bear intelligence?”

Doug stopped to think. “Yeah, I would say our bears are pretty intelligent, they’re not vegetarian though.”

“I see.” The alien begins to scribble notes down. “I’d like to ask about human appearance as it appears ‘unnerving’ to us foreign creatures.”

“ You're calling us weird? Talk about the pot calling the kettle blank.”

“Pot? Kettle?” The researcher takes notes aggressively.

“Thank you for your time Doug, one of our assistants will take you to the memory erasure chamber. “

The researcher left the room and headed down the hall. Eventually, it stopped at the door to a large office. The researcher barged in.

“Commander! I have some terrible news!” The green creature in the room quickly shifted its gaze to the researcher.

“It appears that our report on humans deeply underestimated them. Not only do they speak in complex vocal patterns, but even their plant life appears to be working towards faster than light travel. To make matters worse, some items previously noted as ‘inanimate’ appear to also possess a basic level of intelligence and are able to openly converse!”

“What are you suggesting we do? The human weaponry analyzed seems primitive to our armada”

“I’m worried that if we follow through with the extermination attempt, we would be easily defeated by a more evolved species. I am currently led to believe a planet with that intelligence level could be hiding serious artillery. WE may be the ones eliminated.”

“I understand your concern,” the commander replies, “perhaps the best option will be to mark Earth as ‘off-limits’ and notify all ships to never engage.”

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Reminders:

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