Cloudburst hovered above the street, staring down a monstrous tank. Cybertech’s robotic voice echoed out from the vehicle, cold and mocking. Behind it lay a path of ruin. Buildings had collapsed under its twin cannons as it fled from Johnson Research Labs. A few bodies poked out from the rubble. His heart clenched.

“Stand back.” The nearby police officers looked at him in confusion. “The fight could get dangerous.”

Instead of complying, the looks of confusion only intensified.

One officer spoke up: “I thought you could shield us from harm?”

Anger caused his stomach to tighten further. He had to take a breath to avoid lashing out. They did not know that Cybertech was not the only one at fault for the deaths and destruction.

“No,” he replied. “That’s Null’s job.”

There was some murmuring about Null, but some of the officers began backing away. One man’s eyes widened, but there was no time to deal with it. Without another word, Cloudburst rocketed toward the tank. Electricity crackled around his body as he collided with the outer shell. The tank stalled, and a camera turned to face him.

“Ah. Cloudburst. You’re a bit late. It’s been quite a day for the humans.” Cybertech let out a stilted, robotic chuckle. “I forgot how squishy humans were.”

Cloudburst scowled. “Begone, construct.”

He sent a massive surge of electricity through the tank. But Cybertech only laughed.

“The new insulation seems to be working well. Now get out of my way.”

The tank suddenly glowed and Cloudburst found himself jettisoned away from the vehicle.

Panic flooded his mind. No!

But it was too late to change course. He crashed through a building, causing it to shudder. There were screams as people who had not escaped got caught up in the damage.

I need to finish this before it gets any worse.

He reached out and grabbed a steel rod dislodged from the building’s foundation.

“I don’t have time for you today.”

The electric fields in the air distorted, and the rod shot forward with a bang. Cybertech’s tank skidded several feet to the side from the impact. Cloudburst was already on the move, charging up electricity in his palm. A thick bolt of lightning leaped from his hand toward the steel rod. This time, the tank’s lights flickered wildly.

“No… matter…. I’ve already….” Cybertech’s voice box fizzled out and the tank fell silent.

With a sigh, Cloudburst flew back over to the police.

“You.” Cloudburst pointed at the man who had seemed nervous when he mentioned Null. “Where is Null?’

Indignation filled the officer’s face as he realized he had been singled out. “He was hanging around the lab campus, and their security called us to deal with it.”

Cloudburst looked to the other officers. Most of them seemed shocked, but a few looked guilty.

“The Supers Collective will deal with you later.” Cloudburst took another step and repeated, “Where is Null?”

But the officer continued. “We were just doing our job! What’s it matter if that hanger-on wasn’t here?”

“Kemmers! Answer the man now!” His superior officer apparently got fed up with his excuses. “What did you do with the Super?”

Officer Kemmers held fast. “S-Sir! Why are you defending him? Everyone knows he doesn’t do anything. ‘First on the scene, never does a thing.’ It’s all over the news!”

Something snapped, and Cloudburst said, “He’s the reason no one dies whenever we fight!”

He inadvertently let off a crackle of electricity, causing nearby electronics to flicker. The officer paled.

Finally, in a small voice, he said, “He’s in a holding cell at the precinct.”

Cloudburst left in a flash of energy. Moments later, the local precinct came into view.

“Cloudburst?” The officer at the front desk looked up in shock.

“Where are the holding cells? One of your officers arrested Null. Everyone involved in this is now culpable for the resulting deaths and destruction.”

Stunned, the officer could only point to a hallway on the left. Cloudburst strode past the front desk without another word.

“Null!” He kicked open the door to the holding cells to relieve some of his frustrations.

Null looked up as he entered the basement. Even through the mask, Cloudburst could see the bruises beginning to form.

“How many died this time?” Null’s emotionless voice rang out.

Cloudburst shook his head and quickly made his way over to the cell. A quick jolt of electricity unlocked the door.

But Null remained seated. “Sorry I couldn’t get out of here in time.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” The words felt hollow even as he said them.

Null only gave him a sad smile.

...

Rushed a bit to finish it since I was having lunch while writing.

If you're interested in my works, the archive of my various writing responses can be found in my writing portfolio, link through my profile. There's also an original story, The Crossroads.

Thanks for reading.

(Follow-up Story in Replies Below)

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Thanks so much, Astro! Some really good insights :)

"Are you ready for your interview?".

I looked up from my seat on the sofa, yawning. Harold stood there with a smile on his face, as he always did. Being in charge of us was probably incredibly stressful, but he never let it show. Though I suppose I went a long way to helping with that.

"I guess so boss. This is for our new website isn't it?"

He nodded, as a glass smashed. He looked up to see Vanishing Man wince, picking up the pieces of a broken vase. Great man, good for delivering unexpected punches in battle. Though when not in a fight his spatial awareness left a lot to be desired.

"Thats right. A basic overview of powers, of course nothing specific or not already known to the public. Though yours aren't well known, we decided to let it be known, mainly to keep public trust up."

I shrugged, standing up.

"Whatever you think is best. I don't mind. Alright, let's get this over with."

He lead me to a specially prepared conference room. Inside I could see the reporter, a well dressed lady with a laptop and recorder. A high speed camera sat next to her, pointed at a section of concrete. Also within was Mass Hit, our resident super strong individual. He used it well with his unique power of increasing the mass of anything he used, making his attackes devestating if done right. He grinned as he saw me enter, rubbing his hands together with glee. I returned the smile, before focusing on the reporter.

"Ms Denni I presume? A pleasure to meet you. My name is Emma Sorales, also known as The Constant."

She smiled politely, holding out a hand for me to shake. I gave a solid pump, before settling in the interviewee chair.

"Nice to meet you. I'm sure you have been made aware, but I am here to interview you with anything for the public to know. That means I will record our talk, however if there is anything you say that should be struck from the record, please say and we will make sure it is removed."

"Thank you. Let's get this started then shall we?"

She nodded, looking to her laptop.

"Ok. First off, the big question, what are your powers?"

I smiled, looking over at Mass Hit. I knew why he was here, ready for the demonstration.

"My power is Collateral Damage Mitigation. Basically, when I'm around super powers don't affect objects as much as they should. For instance, someone who can punch through stone won't make a hole in the walll when I'm nearby. Fire hot enough to melt steel will only blacken things. Basically, I'm the dream of any insurance policy holders."

Ms Denni nodded, considering her next question.

"So you prevent collateral damage. Does that mean you are around as often as possible when there are fights happening?"

I gave a smirk.

"Indeed. In fact I'm almost always one of the first on the scene. My power means that if there is a fight in the morning, after lunch the street can generally open again for business as usual. I'm not in the main spotlight, but I don't need to be. By just being nearby, I protect most things. If they are stringer than my base connection, I can focus to increase the strength of the targeted buildings."

She tapped her laptop, looking to the next one.

"Thats very useful isn't it? So what about disaster response? How do you help with that?"

I gestured to the building we were in.

"I stay home. I can't help there, and if I went I would hinder help. There are times it's helpful to break through buildings, especially when they are at risk of harming others. Anyway, my power only works against super powers. I can't stop someone from breaking their mug by dropping it. If there is a natural disaster I'm basically useless."

The reporter nodded.

"Fair enough. What's your favourite fight to have been in?"

I grinned at that.

"Easy. About three years ago, during the Clockwork Invasion. I was sent out with Mass Hit, Vanishing Man, the Hyde Twins and a few others. They had a whale of a time, breaking the Watchmakers toys. And I got a front row seat, as my power meant they could throw them around with impunity."

She gave a nod at that.

"I remember that. It was impressive how small the damage recovery was, I suppose bow you are the one to praise for that. Do you want public recognition?"

I thought for a moment, before shaking my head.

"It's funny. At first that's all I wanted. When I joined, I was sure I would be a superstar. But now, I appreciate being in the background. I'm happy doing my bit. The council members and business owners often thank me personally. But I don't need public praise. I'm happy how it is."

Ms Denni smiled at that.

"That's the main questions done for now. Now I think it's time for the video."

I nodded.

"Sure. Mine is simple. You have seen Mass Hit punch through concrete haven't you?"

She nodded. Mass Hit laughed, clenching a fist.

"We did that just now my friend! Same thing?"

I flashed him a smile, giving a nod of agreement.

"Yes please. Though with a cannon ball if you can?"

He shrugged, gesturing to the prepared weights. They would do. A punch could be blamed on special effects. We had a high speed camera. As he threw it one handed, he would also drop a penny. Just to show ir was going the same speed.

"Alright. First throw without, second with. Got it?"

I nodded at him, consciously reigning in my power around the block of concrete. He picked up a weight, chucking it up in the air before launching it at the block, dropping the penny. Unsurprisingly the weight went through, making a sizable hole. Ms Denni gave a polite clap, before I spoke up.

"So that is his normal effect. Now, if I cover it."

I let my power over it again. Mass Hit did the same, throwing it hard. This time the weight bounced off, leaving it unblemished. I turned to the reporter, shrugging.

"Thats it. Nothing flashy, but very useful in our society."

She nodded, looking at the weight and the block.

"Yeah. Yeah I can see that."

[removed]

My vision spotty and fading I clutched the arrow that had pierced my abdomen. Restlessly disabled, my body had fallen slowly from the wall it thought to be a stationary salvation; I knew my time was nigh upon it's final curtain.

I spattered blood from my mouth, gasping for words of power and sanctity.

The sounds of clashing metal and mortal souls fleeing their earthly bounds rang through my ears, slowly diminishing to a wonderous silence as my eyes closed for the last time. This temple we fought so valiantly to protect shall be my tomb. It's goddess forsakes us all.

With words upon deaf ears I let one last prayer escape my lips, a hopeless plea from a dying fool, "Oh father of the abyss, Tartarus, as a man condemned and tossed aside I come to you in my dying moment. Give me strength," my limbs began to grow numb with the expulsion of blood, "Allow me another day in this world. Bless unto me the powers of your mystical ways and allow me to serve your will."

As you wish

A voice, Deep and deadly, echoed through my flesh sending a great chill throughout my body, bringing back a vigor I thought never to experience again. my pooled blood began to seep it's way back into me.

Forsaken, are you?

The arrow I had been clutching for eons now snapped in my hands and fell away quietly clattering to the marble I thought to be my pyre.

Yes. Forsaken you are. You shall be an excellent acolyte to my cause. Go forth my child. Win this day in the name of me. Your blade will never dull, your skin never pierced. Send these heathens to me. Grant upon them the same destiny that you once feared for yourself.

I stood. rejuvenated almost at once. The words fed me, breeding a new spirit within myself. I clutched my longsword in my off hand, it felt natural when it should have been awkward. I had changed and was alive!

This power you are feeling, it is mine alone to give. You are now my emissary. And you will do my bidding.

The returning sounds of a losing battle alerted me to my task. It is time to make the sacrifice required of me.

"As you wish."

Teenage love is always messy. My one advice is to make Susan a bit more conflicted. The drama to me is that her feelings are still muddled, but I understand this may be difficult with the word limit.

“HOLD THE DOOR! HOLD THE DOOR!!!” I shouted as I sprinted to the closing doors.

The elevator was nearly full but I didn’t care. Oh god, I was so screwed. That meeting was at 5 and it’s already 5 passed.

“Accounting,” I pant as I just make it in. Somehow, I avoided colliding with anyone and did my best to straighten up next to a person dressed in a very conspicuous outfit.

After a beat, I turn toward the patriotic figure and say, “Holy crap, you’re Captain America.”

Captain America turns to me and grimaces and I check myself. He must be terribly busy and upset with Director Fury gone and being a war hero and everything.

I think of what to say and am saved when the person in front of me, turns to Cap and says “sorry about what happened with Fury, if you need someone to talk to.”

Cap simply replies, “Thank you.”

How dignified.

After a somewhat awkward silence and few more floors and some more people, Cap says, “Does anyone want to get out?”

I see it’s my floor and say ”yeah, it’s my floor.”

I move to go and then turn around and say, “Sorry about Director Fury. I hope things turn out okay.”

Cap looks at me with slight surprise and then smiles and says , “Thank you.”

I smile back and rush to my meeting. Maybe this day wasn’t a total bust.

This is an interesting story, but I'm a little confused. I thought Blue and Laurel were the same person, but I was confused as they went back and forth in perspective. Maybe rework for clarity.

I would love to see that.

A fun exploration of how Disco can be an escape. However to me, Disco is a 70s genre. I interpreted the MC as being a teenager in present day. Nostalgia for a time in which the MC hadn't lived could be a good aspect to explore.

I calmly stroll along the streets of New York, strangely empty for the big city, but it doesn’t bother me. A scared stray cat walks up to me, begging for cover. He rubs up against my legs and purrs, so I pick him up and walk to what seems like a safe area, and set him down. He looks back for a second, as if expressing his gratitude, then bolts away. Just then, a civilian runs out of a close building, trying to get to cover, but in those few moments when she was in the open, a wrecked car flies out of nowhere, set on a collision course for the poor woman. I fling out my hand, and the car stops in midair, only inches away from the woman petrified by fear. I put down my hand and the car drops to the ground with a loud clank. I walk over to the woman. She is stammering, not believing what had just happened.

“What was that?” She asked fearfully.

I said nothing, but set my hand on her shoulder, and like that, she was teleported to a safe area. Once that was finished, I looked up to where the heroes were fighting Lord Death yet again, and shook my head. My powers allowed me to do anything, as long as it is directly saved civilian lives, and my colleagues were making that very difficult.

“I can only prevent so much collateral damage you know!”

Captain Justice just grunted and attempted to be more precise with his car throwing.

I swear the “good guys” sometimes cause more damage than the forces of evil

What a Disco love story. I like the usage of songs in it, but I think more details are needed. Is the bartender hot? The MC says few would turn him down so describe him. Are there other queer people in the bar? Studio 54 had Divine and Andy Warhol in attendance, but I know other clubs might not have been as accepting. This could be an interesting contrast.

#Pride and Joy

I suppose, if I'm honest, I spent a lot of my life pretending to be someone I wasn't. It didn't seem that way at first — didn't seem like a lie. I was just taking the easy path, keeping my parents happy, as any dutiful daughter should. Avoid conflict. Avoid confrontation. Avoid drama. And it was working.

I just didn't realise that I was losing myself in the process.

With my friends, I could be a little more myself. They were my safe haven, a little carved-out refuge in a swirling sea of fear and distrust, all of us outcasts, conforming with our non-conformity. But even that became a performance. We'd sit around in deep discussion about the wrongs of the world, pontificating on some topic or other, quoting philosophers or authors anywhere we could as it was easier than having ideas of our own.

I'd say something like "More people should see that history is nothing more than a tableau of crimes and misfortunes." and someone else would counter with "Ah, but it is difficult to free fools from the chains they revere." Then, we'd all nod wisely, sipping drinks we didn't really like and congratulating ourselves on escaping the chains of society by living on its outskirts like it was something we'd chosen for ourselves.

Scott only managed to convince us to come to the club by claiming it would be ironic.

Of course, we clung to the walls at first, used to life on the fringes.

The music was loud. The air was thick with the musk of sweat and booze and smoke. The floor was sticky and the lights hurt my eyes. I hated it.

Until I saw you.

You were in the middle of the dance floor. Of course you were. You were spinning around with your arms outstretched and head tilted back, hair flowing and swaying around you, shimmering in all the colours of the rainbow under the electric lights. Your eyes were closed and your face was painted in an expression of pure joy.

I couldn't help but smile just to look at you.

And when you looked at me, eyes twinkling, I thought my heart had stopped.

Suddenly, the music wasn't too loud. It filled my world, surging through my soul. The lights weren't glaring — on you, they were beautiful. The air was thick with the scent of life, and when you beckoned, I braved the stickiness of the dancefloor.

Conversation was impossible. Anything more than a single word shouted in an ear was lost to the beat. But we didn't need words.

It was the freest I'd ever felt, letting myself go as I swayed and spun and shimmied.

And when you took my hands in yours, the electricity in the atmosphere and the music and the lights surged through my veins. Then, as you drew me closer, that tingle of static grew to the roar of lightning until our lips met and...

It might have been a cliché that would have made me and my friends roll our eyes and groan, but when we kissed, sparks flew. The tickle of your breath. The heat of your skin against mine. The taste of your coconut lip balm.

I thought my chest would burst with the joy bubbling inside.

From that moment on, my grin refused to fade, no matter how much my face ached. I stared into your eyes as we boogied the night away.

Disco has held a special place in my heart ever since, as have you. To be so truly yourself — so free of fear or worry or shame. To be proud of who you are. To simply let go. People are embarrassed by it, but I love it.

Perhaps our story could have had a different ending. If I'd clung to your hand when the music finally stopped. If I'd followed you back into the real world. If I'd ever learnt your name. But perhaps that night was everything I needed it to be, and anything more would have just been greedy.

So, whoever you were, wherever you are now, thank you. Thank you for that one perfect night. Thank you for helping me find myself. Thank you for helping me be free.

WC: 708

I really appreciate any and all feedback

See more I've written at /r/RainbowWrites

I like the twist, but I think more animalistic or violent imagery could be used to help foreshadow the twist.

“What’s your superpower?”

“/gamerule mobGriefing false”

[removed]

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

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Reminds me of Cabin in the Woods

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

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>* 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

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I'm glad you enjoyed it :)

I'm screaming... not the alcoholic cake and then the mustard gas cake... the commissioned cake assassination... THE RUM CAKE BEING A TERRORIST WEAPON. Ahaha I loved it!

Thank you.

I want a poisonous illicit tres leche to expedite my death now... that sounds delicious.

CAKE WARS: A DIVINE TRAGEDY.

CAKE BANNINGS.

I loved this, thank you!