Athena, a hero sent back in time with one mission, to save the world. In her point of origin in the timeline, she was forced to watch hopelessly as those she loved were ruthlessly killed by a single man, a man who seemed to have accumulated so much power that the galaxy itself had become subject to his imperialistic rule.

As she walked along the hot streets of Los Angeles, she noticed a calendar and made her way over to it, taking a look at the date.

"July 16th, 2003."

Almost immediately, her eyebrows furrowed. If she knew about her history correctly, the invasion of the Reca's, which dawned the arise of superheroes, was supposed to take place in 7 years.

This means that the time machine worked, and she was indeed, the only superhero on earth and in history itself. Her mother was alive, however, she has yet to receive her abilities.

As these thoughts ran through her head, Athena made her way through LA, not only enjoying the sight but looking for one man.

"David Lymon."

Athena could recognize that face, even as a child he still had that sinister look of the one in the future. His pupils were skinny like a snake and his laughter acted in her head as mockery instead of signs of joy.

Athena wasted no time, engulfing her hand in energy as she jumped into the air. Her eyes began to glow a luminous white as the energy in her hand formed into a tennis-sized ball. People began to watch curiously while others ran away in fear, Lymon's parents doing the same.

"For my mother, and everyone else you'd killed."

She threw the ball of energy, watching as it brilliantly dodged the others and raced through the crowd before connecting with the back of Lymon's mother, who was holding him and exploding on impact.

Everyone began to run and scream frantically as she just watched, a smile on her face.

She saved the future, but was she truly a hero?

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See Reality Fiction and Simple Prompts for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

🆕 New Here? ✏ Writing Help? 📢 News 💬 Discord

I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please contact the moderators of this subreddit if you have any questions or concerns.

Thanks for writing it! It’s my first prompt and it was fun to write. I wasn’t thinking ancestors I was thinking actual stars but 10/10 like the way you see it better lol

So, the stars are literally our ancestors? I really this twist on this euphemism about death actually being the truth. And I also love that he has a direct link to the stars, that he can feel with them. Even though, poor lad at the beginning!

Thanks for answering my prompt

I don’t know why the stars chose me, but I truly wish they hadn’t. Do you know how old the stars are? Do you know the things they’ve seen? Dynasties of the galaxy rise and fall. Time bending in on itself over and over, yet the stars stayed the same. Ever loyal and never changing. I do not know why they chose me to spread their knowledge but they chose me all the same.

I did feel special knowing what the stars knew. What the stars sensed. When I was alive it make me feel like I was on top of, well the universe. I knew everything and it seemed to be priceless. I was a history professor in life and a very successful one. How could I not? I held in my mind all the knowledge of the stars. Of course when they chose me I was mad for a few years. Seeing visions of time itself would drive anyone insane, especially when it’s in order. I remember like it was yesterday, I was twenty when the visions first started. At first it was just in dreams, flashes of what has already happened. It slowly evolved into what I had called “attacks” flashes of the past so intense I thought I was actually there. At first I even checked myself into a ward genuinely concerned. Once I started to realize what was going on I worked to get out, needing to get out. Eventually the stars actually told me what they wanted me to do with the knowledge they gave me and that’s where my profession came around. Teach. Set the record straight and keep it straight as long as I was alive. I did too, I did what the stars asked, mainly out of fear of their wrath. I felt a lot of what the stars felt, if I wasn’t doing what they wanted I could feel their rage. It was all I felt in the ward, not doing what I was supposed to in their eyes. When I did what the stars wanted me to, they where pleased with me.

None of that matters now. I don’t know how long it’s been since I was a teacher. Now I float, watching the universe around me pass by. Watching time fold in on itself. Never changing ever loyal. For my knowledge, my teachings, my fame, the stars gifted me one more thing when I passed. A place among them, recording and searching for the next teacher. The next one to give truth to their peers. I pray for whoever we choose. I would not wish this knowledge on my worst enemy.

“So, Ultiman, Mr Ultiman? I’m sorry, I’ve never interviewed a superhero before.” James kept a measured tone, an inquisitive look, and a steady hand as he flipped open his notepad with a practised flick and readied his pen accordingly. He wasn’t about to blow this opportunity.

“No one has,” the hero said with a reassuring smile, “just call me Ultiman.”

“All right Ultiman, I’ll start off with a softball, would you mind sharing with our readers your secret identity?”

Ultiman took a fraction of a second to notice the glint in James’ eye, but when he did he gave a chuckle and said, “James Barrow, reporter. I’ll let you decide whether to print that.”

James echoed his chuckle, “Well, levity aside, here’s the softball, do you have a family?”

“I do yes, wife and children, my greatest gift in this life.”

“That’s wonderful, and if you don’t mind, who are you? Not your identity, but your drives. Why do you do what you do?”

Ultiman took a moment to consider. “Where I come from it’s all I’ve ever known. Superheroes fighting evil, standing up for what’s right because we can, when I got here, I saw no reason to change that.”

“Are you an alien then? A visitor from another world?”

“Not exactly.” Another moment passed as the superhero weighed his words. “I come from the future. Heroes are abundant a millennium from now.”

“Really?”

“100%”

“So how did you end up back in our time?”

“A science experiment gone wrong I think. Though how it happened, I’m not sure.”

“What kind of experiment?”

“There was, or will be, a crisis that called for a superhero to trump all others. I was chosen. The experiment should have infused me with the abilities of the greatest heroes on earth. I was going to be the supreme protector of the planet, but once the infusion was completed I felt a surge of power within my body. Like all the powers just burst out at once. And the next thing I knew, I woke up in this time. Left with only my original powers to speak of.”

“What was this crisis?”

“Difficult to explain, like trying to explain radio waves to a peasant in the dark ages.”

Utterly curious, James just gestured for him to go on anyway.

Ultiman didn’t budge, “You simply wouldn’t have any reference for what I’d be talking about. This’d turn from an interview to a university course.”

“Alright, well, what I can put together is that perhaps you are the reason superheroes are so abundant in the future then? If there is even a trace of those powers left in you, and you have a life and family here, it seems possible, don’t you think?”

“I suppose it does…”

​

(Author's Note: I took a slight liberty with the reasons for the time travel, but this idea was too good not to articulate.)

Shit, I’m going to die. I’ve been abducted by aliens, and now one of them is pointing a weird gun at me. I have no idea what’s going on, haven’t really since I got taken, but I know one thing now. There’s really only one thing I could take away from this situation, and that’s that I’m about to die.

I brace myself for whatever this alien’s weapon does. The only hope in my mind now is that it’ll be quick. I stare down the barrel of the gun, and time runs slow. They say your life flashes before your eyes, but that’s not exactly true. Instead, you become so aware of yourself that you can’t help but remember. You remember your greatest failures, as well as your successes. Your highs, your lows, and you wonder. Did it any of it even matter? The answer is no, by the way. Unless you actively go out to change the world, there’s a very small chance that you actually made any difference.

The alien makes some strange gurgling noise and I flinch, this is it… Except, it isn’t. Instead, I’m shot with what smells like rubbing alcohol. Good thing I had my eyes closed, but what the hell is going on? The alien seems similarly shocked and fires again with the same result. Ok, this is officially freaking me out.

The alien pulls out what looks like a walkie-talkie and shouts something frantically into it. It then slips on what I’m almost certain is a gas mask, and books it for the exit. I try to run after it, but a forcefield blocks my way. I frantically bang on the forcefield, shouting at the alien to let me out. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out I’m about to be gassed, and I don’t want to die. It’s different than when I was looking down the barrel of its gun. Then, I was certain that I would die. I’d accepted it, in a strange way. Now, I somehow feel like there’s some kind of hope. That maybe, if I just scream loud enough, it might change its mind.

It doesn’t change it mind. Instead, I pass out from the pinkish gas.

———————————————————————————————

What the hell? It’s like this thing can’t die! I hit it with not one, but two mili-cartridges of Isopropyl Alcohol! Whatever, I guess if I can’t kill it, I’ll just sell it to whatever idiot will give me the most credits for it. All I’ve got to do is keep it passed out with gas until I can secure a buyer. Thank the Spirits that the gas even worked, I was worried. Sure, it’s at more than 100 times the lethal concentration for my species, but I suppose that shouldn’t surprise me.

As I conclude the final call for offers, I feel a tad guilty. The buyer is ended up being a team of researchers focused on combat stimulants. Specifically, adrenaline. Adrenaline’s been on the radar of the various militaries for a while, but even the smallest doses left the test subjects with serious and permanent psychosis and other symptoms that made any semblance of a normal life impossible.

Basically, this poor creature is in for a new type of living hell. Oh well, at least I got a pretty sum of credits for it. In other words, it’s not my problem anymore.

———————————————————————————————

Special Report: test subject on the research station Craelyn believed to be under the influence of Adrenaline has slaughtered the crew and stolen a shuttle. Isopropyl Alcohol seemed to have to effect. It is coming, and we can not stop it.

———————————————————————————————

If you enjoyed this little story, consider checking out my subreddit r/CookieJarOfChaos

Thank you for reading.

It’s partially because your goose profile pic looks like a 2 footed goblin thing with an open mouth when you don’t pay close attention when scrolling mobile, but I do remember your stories are always good.

Human president: What do you mean we used to have a moon?

Fund that research! I want to see a star turned into a torus, for science ^(and giggles)!

Yeah especially civs worthy of interplanetary travel.. Those shit need lots of maths..

Hope that they get tried as adults

[deleted]

Oo, i like this!

Stop them immediatly!

I love these short stories man..

Poor Nobel

Already done, my friend. I'm honoured that you remember me specifically.

"Report," the violet-tinted cloud commanded through a series of flashes of varying intensity.

"They call themselves 'humans', sir," the crystalline creature in front of them replied with a voice that was rough and coarse, yet oddly soothing. "I believe you'll find some of their attributes... peculiar."

"Is that so? Do go on."

"Some basics - physical prowess is an alephar grade. Deceptively resilient, short lifespan, limited offensive capabilities. A flexible species with a shocking amount of variety, but nothing we haven't seen before. The planet itself is not entirely remarkable. Mostly water, high biodiversity, some specimens could be used for research."

"Go on," the cloud flickered.

"On a civilization scale, they're brahmen. Spacefaring and largely peaceful with only occasional squabbles over minor disputes. Their history shows their war-like nature used to be far worse. And, well... this is the interesting part. Their intellect. It's oolke," the crystal growled.

"And that is interesting... how?" the cloud blinked incredulously. "They're a versatile, resilient species with a reasonably capable society that are a bit... on the dim side. Why are you telling me that?"

"Their intellect is oolke, but their combined mathematical knowledge is... I- I'm not sure how to describe it. Here, see for yourself."

The crystal pushed forward a slightly moist globule of dark-blue mass that the cloud turned towards. The mass hummed quietly.

"Fission, space-faring for the last 266 cycles, gravity slingshots... grav- gravity drive?" the cloud gasped. "They've... they've constructed a gravity drive?!"

"Before you ask, sir, I've quadruple-checked. They are, in fact, oolke class."

"How does an oolke tier species create a gravity drive? We've been trying to make one for the last 745 cycles!"

"Sir... they're incredibly irresponsible."

The cloud stared at the crystal silently.

"The- the experiments they've conducted over the past several hundred years, sir, they've done them with reckless abandon. Before they created the gravity drive, they created several miniature black holes that went out of control. They, uh... used to have a moon."

"Used to?"

"A black hole swallowed it."

The two creatures pondered the situation in silence.

"Sir, what do we do now?" the crystal asked.

"I'll be honest," the cloud replied slowly. "I'm not sure if we should give them funds for research... or stop them immediately."

I've thought about a trait humans may have that would be superior to an advanced extraterrestrial civilization. Our mathematical logic has been something that crossed my mind. But I always think about how could an advanced civilization occur without some sort of strong math

You always make good stories, could you tell me when it’s done?

I got you. I've thought of just the thing.

Loved this.

What a nice, peaceful, contemplative and even a bit romantic story ! Thank you very much for answering my prompt.

[removed]