Aztek #0: "Flash Delirium"

Two years ago.

A man from Tula steps out at the Vanity Airport and hails a taxi. His training has prepared him for many things. They told him that a dark shadow had been cast across North America. They said that soon, the world would need the light and the guidance of Quetzalcoatl's ultimate warrior. He was ordered to establish himself as a protector and also to keep a low profile. One teacher in particular had even advised him to set up a secret identity; that it was important to keep the life of a warrior and his private life separate. This man from Tula had everything set in place for him by his benefactors. He had an apartment waiting for him as well as a job interview the next day.

But if he had known even then what the next few years would bring, he might have turned around back to the airplane and gone back to South America. If he had known that roughly two years later, he would have to give up everything he loved to save the world, he might have quit then and there. This man from Tula was strong, but even the strongest men collapse with enough weight on their shoulders.



Now.

They say that the people of Gotham City are always in nasty moods. The citizens of Bludhaven aren't supposed to be much better. However, especially today, Doctor Curt Falconer believes that those selfish, good-for-nothing citizens on the east coast should all take a trip to Vanity, Washington to see what a real dump looks like. Vanity is known in America for its abnormally high suicide rate. Some say that the devil incarnate is present within its streets. Others claim that the city was designed as an experiment in emotion-provoking architecture. Whatever the case though, today, Doctor Falconer wished he was anywhere else in the world.

“Curt! There's been a patient waiting for you in room five for the last two hours! Are you going to get them?” an attendant yelled.

Curt put his hand on his face. “Ugghhh,” he moaned. Ever since the divorce, his job had become so demanding and difficult. It was very unrewarding to work in a public service position like his own in a city where no one cared for anyone but themselves. They didn't call it Vanity for nothing. “I'm coming,” Doctor Falconer slowly answered. He stood up from his desk and started to walk down the hallway. His mind was just not with him today. He had gotten very little sleep the night before since he had been waiting for his teenage daughter, Mindy, to return home. She had been gone all night. He had no control over his life anymore.

“This is supposed to be one of the best hospitals in the state of Washington!” a large obese woman told Falconer as he walked into the room with his chart. “How the hell is someone as incompetent as you working here?”

“I'm sorry, ma'am,” Curt answered halfheartedly. “Now what seems to be the problem?”

“The problem? Oh, I'll tell you the problem,” she answered sassily. “You, Doctor, are the problem. I have been waiting for over two hours for you to see me! Do you think you're the only person in this city with a life? I had things to do today!”

“Oh, please,” Doctor Falconer threw his clipboard and notes onto the floor. “Don't expect me to believe that you had anything else planned today besides sitting in your recliner, eating your own weight – which is a whole lot, by the way – in ice cream, and watching reruns of I Love Lucy. I don't need to take this from you!” Doctor Falconer grabbed the doorknob and flung the door open.

“You'll be hearing from my lawyer!” the woman called after him. Curt Falconer did not care anymore though. He was through with this horrible state of living. It was time to make some changes in his life.

“Curt!” the attendant called after him. Doctor Falconer had almost made it to the door. He was so close. “Doctor Falconer, if you walk out of that door right now, the board will have no choice but to have you fired!”

Doctor Falconer smiled and tore off his name tag, “%&@* the board. I'm through.”



Two years ago.

Emilio ZiCoatle had woken up with almost no time before his interview with LexCorp. He really needed to get a job too if he intended to live for very long in Vanity. And he had to stay in Vanity. There was no question about that. The previous night in the city had made quite a mark on Emilio. He was sore and very tired.

Emilio realized that his shoulder was bleeding slightly. “Ughhhh,” Emilio moaned. He got himself out of bed and into the bathroom where he dressed his wounds. Once in the bathroom, he noticed a pair of bloody gloves sitting in his sink. In his bathtub was a golden suit. Emilio smiled as the exhilarating memories of the previous night sank back in.

He had been soaring through the sky. His arms outstretched, his weathered wings below him. His helmet glistened in the moonlight of the city. Below him, the night prowlers would gasp at the sight. Emilio flew up to an old perch on the rooftops of Vanity. He looked out on the city and what he saw was good.

Vanity was often considered to be a city of hopelessness and torment, but when Emilio was told to travel there, he did not argue, and now, on this warm summer night, what he saw was wonderful. He saw a city of hope and wonder. It was nothing like his hometown of Tula. The skyscrapers stood as monuments to mankind's ultimate destiny and potential. Vanity was, perhaps, an aptly-named place.

But then he looked down and he saw the shadows and the darkness below. In Vanity, beauty is only ever skin-deep. In the street below, a mugging was underway. Emilio adjusted his golden gauntlets, straightened his pointed helmet, and sprung into action. He glided down to the streets and unleashed a propelled kick upon the miscreant. The robber was kicked to the ground and he coughed.

“Great, more %&@*ing heroes! What's your problem, man?” the mugger said. Emilio was caught off guard.

“My problem?” Emilio answered. “What do you mean? You were mugging that woman!”

“Yeah, I know, but we already have Bloodtype and the Vatmen, buddy,” the mugger replied. “We don't need more heroes. I mean, who the %&@* are you supposed to be? Pointy-Man, the Aztecan %&@*?”

“Hey, you know what, he does look kinda Aztecan!” the woman who was getting mugged interjected.

“I'm... uh...,” Emilio said. “... Yeah, I mean, I am, but what does that have to do with anything right now? Look,” Emilio pointed to the mugger, “you need to give back whatever you just took, okay?”

“Well, sure,” the mugger said. He handed the woman back her stuff. “I'll just give everything back just like that, Mr. Aztek!”

“I'm sure everyone would appreciate that,” Emilio replied. “Perhaps you could turn yourself in, too? The police station isn't far. It'd give you a good shot at a quick parole.”

“I'll show you a quick shot, Mr. Aztek!” the mugger yelled. He pulled out a pistol and aimed at Emilio's shoulder. Bang! The bullet met Emilio's shoulder and brought the hero down to the cold ground of Vanity's streets. The mugger laughed and ran away while the woman screamed.

“Aztek, are you okay?!” the woman cried. “Can I get a quote?”

“I... Don't call me that... and what? You're a reporter? I'll... ughhh... I'll be okay,” Emilio replied. “You should call the police and tell them about that man.” Emilio brushed himself off and clutched his shoulder. It stung with pain and he knew that he needed to get back home. He flew back to his apartment, got out of his bloodstained clothes, and sat down with a needle and thread, attempting to fix his wounds. He extracted the bullet and sewed himself up. Emilio laid down on his bed and shut his eyes. He had to get a job the next morning. His mission depended on it.



Now.

Her heartbeat was slow but it felt so loud. Emilio moved his hand to her cheek and kissed it softly. She smiled and moved her hand to his chest and touched one of the larger scars on his shoulder, obviously from a bullet wound. “I don't want you to keep doing this,” she said.

“Katrina,” Emilio sighed, “I don't have a choice.”

“You always have a choice!” Katrina cried. “Why does the Q-Society need you to put your life in danger every night?!”

“They trained me since the day of my birth, Kat,” Emilio said. “The world needs me to protect it against the ultimate evil. I can't deny my destiny.”

“Then change it,” Katrina begged. “Tell that snake that you're through!”

“That snake,” Emilio said, “is the Aztecan sun god Quetzalcoatl. He's not exactly someone you can say no to.”

“I can't keep seeing you almost kill yourself every night!” Katrina sighed. “I can't take it.”

Emilio said nothing more. Katrina was a strong woman. She held in her tears, but Emilio knew how she felt. He was in constant fear of anything ever happening to her. As Vanity's premier superhero, Aztek, Emilio knew that his secret identity was an extremely important thing to protect. If any of his villains ever discovered his true identity, she would be in extreme danger.

Emilio sat up and stepped out of bed. “I'm sorry,” he told Katrina, “I have to go.”

“Just come back in one piece,” she begged of him. Emilio got dressed and flew out of the window. Katrina Rodman sat alone in their bed and wiped her eyes. She couldn't stop the tears any longer. She wept the next five minutes away and cried herself back to sleep.



Now, elsewhere.

Elsewhere, Curt Falconer was sitting in an armchair, alone and silent. His daughter had been missing for more than 24 hours now. On top of that, he had just quit his job. Life was not looking very good for Curt Falconer. Curt pulled out his pipe and a bag of his favorite tobacco and began to fill the pipe up. He used to smoke a lot but his ex-wife had convinced him to give up this habit for Mindy's sake.

Falconer puffed on the pipe for a few minutes and slowly exhaled a cloud of smoke. He relaxed a little bit. He had missed smoking. He watched the clouds of smoke float around the room like a silent ghost haunting a house. The smoke danced off of the walls and Curt could almost imagine them taking form in some sort of shape. Curt rubbed his eyes. Was he seeing things? He could have sworn that the smoke clouds were walking around the room in the shape of little people.

“What the hell is going on?” Curt sat up and asked out loud. It was clear now that the smoke clouds had taken the shape of some sort of little creatures. They were very small but humanoid-shaped, however, their heads were round and long, almost like the shape of little pipes. That's what they were! They were little smoking pipes with eyes, arms, and legs!

“This is so strange,” Curt spoke. “Can... can you things talk?”

“We can! We can!” they all chirped. “We can talk, Master! We are here for you!”

“Master?” Curt questioned. “Where did you all come from?”

“We have always been here with you,” the pipes answered. “We are you and you are us.”

“This is... a lot to comprehend,” Curt said. “What do you... do?”

“We do lots of things!” The pipes smiled. One of the pipes walked over to another pipe and bent over.

“Heehee, watch this!” he said. The pipe clenched his eyes shut as if trying to squeeze something out and suddenly, a wave of gas erupted from his head and the other pipe was knocked out. He fell to the ground and all of the other pipes began to laugh.

“I see.” Curt laughed to himself. Suddenly, the phone began to ring. Curt looked at all of the shadowy pipes in the room and said, “Hey, guys. Don't say a word. I have a phone call.”

One pipe whispered to another, “Hey, don't talk. Master has a phone call. Pass it on.” This message went from one pipe to another until all of them had heard the message.

Curt sighed at the pipe's silliness and answered the phone, “Hello, this is Doctor Falconer.”

“We have your daughter,” a voice on the other end of the phone said. “We will be at your home tomorrow to collect one million dollars or else Mindy dies.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?!” Curt yelled on the phone. “There's no way I can get one million dollars in one day! I just quit my job! Jesus!” The person on the other end of the phone promptly hung up and there was only silence.

Eventually, one pipe spoke up. “Master,” the pipe began, “couldn't you just call the police?”

One of the other pipes smacked that pipe across the back of his head, “Are you stupid?” the other pipe said. “This is Vanity! You can't trust a cop here any more than you can trust a Gotham City lawyer!”

“What do you know? You just came into existence!” the first pipe yelled back. “And don't hit me! I'm tender there!”

“Guys, let's just think about this for a second,” Curt Falconer said. “Okay, we need one million dollars before tomorrow. I'm sure I have a little more than $100,000 in my bank account.” Curt sat in silence for a second. “Maybe...,” he began. “... maybe we should rob a bank?” The pipes all smiled sinisterly. They nodded and chirped in agreement, throwing their arms up in the air and yelling and jumping.

“It's time to pay the Piper, Master!” one of the pipes chirped up. “It's time to pay the Piper!”

“Yes,” Curt smiled, standing up from his armchair. “Yes! It's time for them to pay me, the Piper, once and for all!”



Two years ago.

Emilio walked into the front entrance of LexCorp. He had an interview for a job as a security guard but he had no idea where to go. He walked over to the front desk to speak to the secretary. Even from all the way across the lobby, Emilio could tell how beautiful she was. In fact, Emilio had never seen a girl as beautiful as her. This fact almost kept him away from the front desk. He was nervous to talk to her, but he needed to get this job so he needed to talk to her.

“Um, excuse me,” Emilio began. “My name's Emilio. I have an interview today for a job here?”

“Hello, Emilio, I'm Katrina Rodman,” the woman answered back, smiling at him. “My friends call me Kat though.”

“Oh!” Emilio said, a little taken aback. “Well, hello, Kat. I hope that we can be great friends.”

“Thanks, Emilio,” she said, still smiling. “Your interview should be down the hall and to the right! Good luck!”

“Thank you.” Emilio smiled and left. He couldn't tell whether or not she was just being friendly for the sake of being friendly. That was probably it. He also couldn't figure out whether or not he had made a fool of himself in front of her. Oh well, there was an interview waiting for him and he really needed to make a good impression. It was important to get Kat out of his head for now, but he would not be forgetting her anytime soon.

Emilio walked into the room that he had been directed to. “Hello?” he said to the man sitting in the chair inside the room. “My name is Emilio ZiCoatle.”

“Ah, hello, Emilio!” The man stood up and shook his hand. “My name is Sebastian Mallory. Are you ready to start your interview?”

“As ready as I'll ever be,” Emilio answered. He clutched his shoulder for a second and clenched his teeth. A wave of pain from the bullet wound he had received the night before coursed through his body.

“Are you okay?” Sebastian Mallory asked. “You look like you're in pain.”

“I'm fine, just a little ache,” Emilio replied.

Sebastian nodded and motioned Emilio to sit down. “We need good security guards, Emilio. We need people who understand the importance of the work that we do here at LexCorp. We need people willing to dedicate all of their time and energy into protecting this place of knowledge that we hold so dear to our hearts.”

Emilio smiled to himself. They need a protector? Someone to watch over them? It sounded like everything Emilio had already been training for his entire life. He was confident that LexCorp had found the best security guard that they could ever ask for.



Now.

Emilio glided in the night air, his arms stretched out, letting the wind catch the wings that extended out from under his forearms. When in his armor, Vanity knew him as Aztek. He had been in the public eye for the last two years, defeating threats like Lardo the O-beast, Sugar Glider, and the Pelican. Sure, other heroes like Bloodtype, Death-Doll, and the Vatmen deserved their dues as well. They were protecting Vanity way before Emilio ever arrived on the scene, but Emilio never truly approved of their methods. Bloodtype waged an all-out war against all sorts of villainy in Vanity. He carried a large variety of weapons. Bloodtype and Death-Doll used to go by the names of Mister America and Liberty Lass. They were true American superheroes but something had happened to them. Aztek wasn't sure what it was but it would have had to have been something bad.

The Vatmen were a team of superheroes who were stationed in Vanity even before Bloodtype appeared. They were part of an experiment by the government that resulted in four regular civilians gaining extraordinary superpowers. However, over the years, their powers had grown to be more unstable. The experiment resulted in a long list of problems. For example, Synth was one of the Vatmen who was most affected by negative effects. For half of a day, Synth had incredible strength, shape-shifting powers, and a genius intellect. For the other half of the day, he was left with only his shape-shifting powers and the mind of an idiot.

Emilio flew to a rooftop and took a small break from his patrol. He began to ponder about the heroes of Vanity. All of them seemed so flawed. He wondered if he could stay true to his cause or if he was doomed to corruption, just like all the others. What was it about Vanity that brought out the worst in people?

When wearing the helmet of Quetzalcoatl, the wearer gains access to the minds and memories of all the past wearers and even access to an audience with Quetzalcoatl himself. Emilio was always uncomfortable communing with a god, but tonight he felt like it was necessary. He had some things to ask the feathered serpent god. Emilio closed his eyes and his consciousness entered the helmet.

“My warrior,” a great deep voice bellowed. “My champion. What brings you to my realm?”

“My Lord Quetzalcoatl,” Emilio began, “I was trained since my birth to follow in your footsteps. Ages ago, you waged a battle with the shadow god Tezcatlipoca. He fled but vowed to return one day to take the world. I am here to fight him upon his return.”

“That is your mission, my son,” Quetzalcoatl replied. In this realm, Quetzalcoatl looked like a massive snake. He had feathers protruding all along his spine and floated slightly off the ground. If not for his benevolent attitude, he might even look like a threat. “I sense that you are troubled. Speak your mind, great warrior.”

“The Q-Society trained me to be the perfect vessel to channel your energy and represent your name and power, but my lord... they never prepared me for falling in love,” Emilio said and then hung his head. Quetzalcoatl hissed for a moment and slithered around Emilio.

“You have fallen in love with a mortal woman?” Quetzalcoatl questioned. “That was not your mission, Emilio.”

“I realize that, great one,” Emilio pleaded. “But I cannot help how I feel. She means so much to me.”

“Does she mean enough that you would throw away everything you've worked for?” Quetzalcoatl roared. “You are my champion, Emilio. You were not supposed to fall in love. Love will blind you from your true destiny. It already has.”

Emilio closed his eyes for a moment. He couldn't stand the sight of his god angry at him. “I can't keep doing this,” Emilio said. “I love her.”

Quetzalcoatl said nothing for several minutes. He merely slithered in the air as if in a long thought process. “Think about what you're saying, Emilio,” Quetzalcoatl finally replied. “We will speak again soon.” Then, as suddenly as the serpent god had appeared, he left. Aztek opened his eyes and found himself back on the rooftops of Vanity. The night air was cold and silent, but suddenly an alarm rang through the night.

“That sounds like the First National Bank,” Aztek said out loud. He opened up his arms and his wings flew out. Aztek leaped off the building and soared towards the bank.



Two years ago.

Lex Luthor didn't normally take the time out of his day to oversee each of his individual branches but Vanity was different. He had never been before but he had been advised to set up shop there. Apparently the city had special properties that could provide for some very interesting experiments. That business with the Vatmen a few years ago was proof enough of that.

Today, Lex sat in his office in the Vanity branch of LexCorp. He had never touched his wooden desk before that day nor had he set eyes on the beautiful Miss Katrina Rodman who was his secretary. Today was going to be full of new surprises for Lex. One of the new prominent young businessmen at LexCorp: Vanity had scheduled a meeting with him. His name was Sebastian Mallory and he had a very interesting proposition.

“Mr. Luthor,” Sebastian said as he walked into the meeting room.

“Ah, Mr. Mallory,” Lex replied, turning around to shake his hand.

“It's an honor to meet you, sir!” Sebastian said, practically groveling at Luthor's feet.

“Please,” Lex said, shaking Sebastian away, “let's get down to business. What have you been working on?”

“Well, Mr. Luthor, I have been thinking that...” Sebastian started but Lex began to ignore him. A television set had been on in the office. Lex had only been watching casually but something had just caught his eye.

“Last night, I had the pleasure of encountering Vanity's own brand new superhero!” an anchorwoman said. “I was in the middle of being mugged when a golden man with a horned helmet appeared out of nowhere and saved me! It's so exciting that I not only got to be the subject of a news story myself but I also got to coin our new superhero's name! Since his armor was so full of Aztecan motifs, I thought it was only appropriate that Vanity called him Aztek!”

“Are you hearing this?” Lex asked Sebastian. “What is it about superheroes, hmm? They just... demand the attention of everyone.”

“After rescuing me, he did take a bullet wound to the shoulder,” the anchorwoman continued. “I hope he's doing okay today. Thanks again for the save, Aztek, and welcome to Vanity!”

“I interviewed a man for a security guard position earlier today who had a bum shoulder,” Sebastian said to Luthor. “You don't think...?”

“What ethnicity was this man?” Lex asked.

“He looked like he could have definitely been from South America,” Sebastian replied. “Maybe even Aztecan.”

“Hmmm,” Lex said. “This is interesting. Give the man the position. It might pay to have a superhero in our employment one day, if he is indeed this Aztek.”

“Yes, sir,” Sebastian said. “Also, would you still be interested in hearing my proposal now, Mr. Luthor?”

“Not now,” Lex replied sternly. “I have a lot on my mind, Mr. Mallory.”

“Yes, sir,” Sebastian said and left the room.

Lex Luthor sat back in his chair and looked out of his glass window onto the city of Vanity. He smiled, pulled out his cell phone, and pressed a button, “Hello? Noah Kuttler? It's Luthor. Thanks again for the tip about Vanity. You were right. There is... so much untapped potential here.” He hung up and continued to look out of the window. There was something about this city; something about Vanity that just made Lex Luthor happy.



Now.

Curt Falconer hadn't had much time to prepare for his heist. After all, he had less than twenty-four hours before the kidnappers would be at his home to collect the money. His pipes had suggested that coming up with a supervillain persona would be ideal. Sure, it sounded cliché, dressing up as a supervillain and robbing a bank, but it was the only option left for Curt. He had to rescue his daughter.

The Piper persona had been the pipes' idea. They helped Falconer fashion together a green outfit that represented the theme of a “Piper.” Curt wore his old football helmet from high school. He had been the third-string punter but he had been on the team nonetheless. With the pipes' help, Falconer was able to transform his old football gear into a pipe-shaped helmet and other appropriate armor for his persona.

Finally in costume, the Piper was ready to conduct his crime. “My pipes!” he called out to all of his minions. “It is time!”

“Yay!” all of the pipes chimed together. “Let's go give 'em hell, boss!” The pipes all began to fuse together and create one large dark shadowy pipe. This pipe began to bubble and dissolve into a cloud of smoke. “Enter and I will take you to our destination, Master!” the pipe told him. Falconer did so and suddenly he was outside of the First National Bank of Vanity.

“Let's get this show on the road,” the Piper smiled to himself. He walked in through the front door of the bank. There were three not-so-long lines in the bank and about four employees working behind the desk. “Ladies and gentlemen!” the Piper yelled. Suddenly, all of the dark little pipe minions started to slowly appear in plain sight. They all slithered out of the top of his pipe-shaped helmet and floated down to the floor of the bank like clouds of smoke.

“This is a stick-up, see?” one of the pipes squeaked. “Give us all your money and nobody gets hurt!”

“What he said!” the Piper interjected. Suddenly, the emergency alarm went off. Some clever employee had sounded the alarm. Curt didn't have much time now. He had a large brown burlap sack in hand and began to yell, “Alright, put everything of value into the bag now and nobody gets hurt!”

The sound of breaking glass broke the Piper's threat. Someone had opted not to use the front door but instead made their own door by breaking open the glass windows. Piper turned around to see a large man with an even larger gun in hand. He had an ammunition belt across his chest and a targeting system set up in his helmet. Everyone in Vanity knew who this man was. His name was Bloodtype and he was not someone you wanted to run into.

“Supervillain scum!” Bloodtype yelled and began firing in the Piper's direction. Civilians who had been in the bank trying to conduct business fled in every direction.

“Hey, cut it out!” the Piper yelled at him. “There are innocent people in here!”

“Like you care about the innocents, vermin!” Bloodtype yelled. “It's people like you who give Vanity a bad name!” Bloodtype sent another round of shells towards the Piper. A few of the pipe minions jumped up into the air and caught the bullets, sacrificing themselves for their master. Other bullets missed the Piper and his pipes entirely and hit civilians instead.

“No! Stop! You're hurting them!” the Piper yelled.

“Not as much as I'm going to hurt you!” Bloodtype yelled back. Curt was scared. He had never intended to become a supervillain and let his life blow up in smoke. All he wanted was to save his daughter. He vowed to change his ways if only somehow he could get out of this situation.

As if in answer to his prayers, Aztek suddenly swooped into the bank. He took a quick look at the situation going on and saw that Bloodtype was gunning for everyone, supervillain or not. He grabbed the Piper by the waist and, almost in one solid sweep, took the fight outside of the bank and away from the civilians. Aztek flew up into the air, the Piper hanging onto Aztek's arm. Aztek found a nearby rooftop and dropped the Piper off. “I'll be back momentarily and we'll talk,” Aztek said. “For your own good, don't go anywhere.”

Bloodtype emerged from the bank and stood in the front door. “Aztek!” he cried. “You're aiding a known criminal. I'm going to have to take you out too!”

“Just listen to yourself, Bloodtype!” Aztek yelled back. “You used to be a patriotic symbol for good! What happened to you?!”

“This %&@*ing city happened to me!” Bloodtype cried. He pulled out a pistol and shot Aztek in the helmet. The bullet bounced immediately off, not hurting Aztek at all. Aztek didn't say a word. He stood there and let Bloodtype realize how pathetic he looked. “Arrrgghh!” Bloodtype screamed in frustration. He pulled out two small handheld machine guns and began firing them off at Aztek. Aztek dodged the bullets, somersaulting his way over to Bloodtype where he proceeded to punch Bloodtype across the face with a good old-fashioned right hook. With one super-powered punch, Bloodtype sunk to the ground, defeated. “I'm so sorry,” he said. “I just... I never wanted to become a psychotic vigilante.”

“I'm sorry,” Aztek said. He turned around to leave, but gave Bloodtype one last look. “You know, saints are just sinners who kept on going.”

The cops were just beginning to arrive on the scene. Aztek soared into the sky before they had a chance to ask him what was going on. The cops took Bloodtype in and began to question the civilians in the bank and retrieve medical aid for the wounded.

Aztek still had the Piper to deal with. He flew back to the rooftop to find that the Piper was still there. “Thank you for waiting,” Aztek said. “Not many supervillains would do that.”

“You think I'm a supervillain?!” the Piper laughed. “I just made this costume today.”

“You have super powers and you were robbing that bank,” Aztek replied. “I think that qualifies you to be a supervillain.”

“So why didn't you give me the one-punch treatment that you gave Bloodtype?” the Piper asked.

“It's like this,” Aztek began. “I've been in Vanity for two years now, but I still don't know everything about it and I can't be everywhere at once. I know that Vanity is a cesspool of corruption and I need an inside man to help me.”

The Piper was slightly confused. “Let me get this straight,” the Piper replied. “You want me, an obviously dangerous supervillain, to help you, a superhero do-gooder, by giving you inside tips on what's going on in the villains' underground network?”

“Yes, and in turn, I'll help you,” Aztek replied. “You obviously need something, even if it's just money. Why else would you go robbing a bank? It's just crazy behavior.”

“I...” the Piper started. Aztek was right. He did need something. He needed to rescue his daughter. Perhaps if he allied himself with this superhero, he would be able to save her. He would be able to make his own rules and not let life tear him down anymore. “I... yes, okay. We have a deal, Aztek.” The Piper and Aztek shook hands. Then, the Piper reached into his pocket. He pulled out his wallet and showed it to Aztek. “See this picture here?” he asked. “This is my daughter, Mindy. She's been kidnapped and the money was going to help pay her ransom.”

“Why didn't you just go to the cops?” Aztek asked. The Piper blushed. That had been his initial idea too, but his evil pipes had thrown that idea down. “Well either way,” Aztek continued. “We'll get your daughter back, I promise. What leads do you have to go on?”

“Well, her kidnappers are supposed to come by my home and collect the ransom money tomorrow,” the Piper replied. “Perhaps we can do an old-fashioned stakeout?”

“What's a stakeout?” Aztek asked.

“What, have you never seen any cop shows?”

“I'm not from around here,” Aztek replied.

“Well,” the Piper said, “we are basically going to wait for them to come to us.”



Later.

Vox was one of the Vatmen who had been lucky. He had been given the super ability of a super powered screech, very similar to that of Black Canary of the New Outsiders. The only downside to this power was that it made Vox's vocal chords hurt extremely badly. He had a difficult time speaking after using his powers. Because of this, Vox was often not very vocal. He let Synth, when he was in his genius mode, and the others tell him what to do.

Today, Vox had to collect ransom money. The Vatmen had finally fallen to the corruption of the city. They had kidnapped a young girl named Mindy Falconer and they had intended to collect some good money off of her. Her father was a doctor, after all. He surely had the ability to pay the ransom. Being a superhero did not pay well, in fact, it didn't pay at all. Vox had reached the Falconer home. He had been instructed to call the house first to make sure that the good doctor was home, and it always paid to give them a little scare first. That's what Vox learned from his many fights with supervillains back in the day; back when the Vatmen stood for something good. Vox looked to his right at Mindy, who was sitting in the passenger seat of his car. “Don't worry, child,” he said, “it's almost over.”

The phone rang and someone answered the other end, “Hello?”

“Doctor Falconer,” Vox said. “It's time for you to pay.”

“Yes, it’s time to pay alright,” Falconer replied. “Come on inside.”

Curt Falconer hung the phone up and laughed to himself. “Let them come,” he laughed out loud. He turned around to look at Aztek. “Are you sure this is going to work?”

“Positive,” Aztek said. Then, there was a knock on the door. “It's him. Get ready.”

Falconer was dressed in his Piper garb. He smiled to himself and opened the door, ready for anything. There was Vox. He wore a large overcoat, dark sunglasses, and a fedora. Falconer could tell that he was bald or balding, at least.

“Time to pay, Doctor Fa-... What the @&%* are you wearing?” Vox asked.

“No, it's time for you to pay!” Falconer replied. “Time to pay the Piper!” Suddenly, a horde of little shadow pipes appeared from behind the Piper and began rushing out of the door. They enveloped Vox completely in shadows and began scratching and tearing at him.

“Arrrghhh!” Vox cried.

“Where is my daughter?!” the Piper yelled. “Tell me where she is!”

Vox screamed and suddenly all of the pipes disintegrated. The massive impact of sound had blasted them to bits. Vox scrambled away from the front door and ran back towards his car. “Y-y-you. You're... you're gonna... pay... for this,” he muttered through his damaged vocal chords. “Mindy... is... She's gonna... hurt for this.”

“I don't think so,” the Piper replied. “You tell your boss or whoever that there's a new supervillain in town and he's gonna smoke you all out of here!” Vox scrambled into his car but the Piper ran after him. He projected a stream of smoke from his helmet that took the form of a large fist. The smoke hand grabbed Vox and picked him up in the air. Piper looked at the car and saw his daughter in the front seat.

“Mindy!” he cried. With Vox held captive in the air, the Piper dashed towards the car. He opened up the car door and Mindy jumped out and hugged him.

“Dad! I was so scared!” she said. “But what the hell are you wearing?”

“I'll tell you later, baby girl,” the Piper replied. “Now get into the house!” Falconer let the fist of smoke dissipate and Vox fell down on the lawn. “Go back to the Vatmen and tell them to watch their backs, Vox. I know who you are.”

“We know who you are too, Falconer,” Vox replied. He brushed himself off and suddenly disappeared into thin air. Falconer was very confused at first, but wiped the thought out of his mind. He had rescued Mindy and that was all that mattered.

The Piper walked back inside his home and Aztek gave him a small round of applause. “Bravo,” he said. Mindy stood next to Aztek and smiled at her father.

“Do you think they bought it?” the Piper asked. “Was I supervillainy enough?”

“It's all about credibility,” Aztek replied. “You did fine. I think that everyone in Vanity will have no doubt now that the Piper is here to stay.”

“What the hell is going on here?” Mindy asked. “You're Aztek, the superhero, right? What are you doing here?”

“Your father is helping me with some important work,” Aztek replied.

“Get some rest, Mindy,” the Piper said. “I promise that Aztek and I will find a way to bring the Vatmen to justice for what they did to you.”

Aztek shook his hand and flew into the night sky. As he glided among the clouds, he thought back on the day. He had found a new ally in Curt Falconer. Maybe now, he could finally put a dent in Vanity's supervillain population. Maybe soon, he wouldn't have to keep Katrina waiting for him each and every night to come home. Aztek decided that, for at least right now, he could keep her waiting no longer. Aztek headed home to his apartment and his lover.

Finally home, Katrina and Emilio laid in bed and watched the news. Bloodtype had been released from prison almost immediately. The city loved him. There was no keeping him in bars. The news had some footage of Death-Doll, Bloodtype's wife, hugging him outside of the Vanity Courthouse. Meanwhile, Synth of the Vatmen had been interviewed too. The anchorwoman asked Synth what his thoughts on the fight at the First National Bank were since he was one of Vanity's first super heroes.

Synth said, “I think that Aztek is trying to do his best in a city that doesn't need him. More power to him for trying but the Vatmen and Bloodtype have got this. Aztek can go back to the rain forests where he belongs.”

“That liar!” Emilio yelled at the screen. “Kat, the Vatmen were responsible for a kidnapping! They took a teenage girl away from her father. This is wrong.”

“What can you do?” Katrina asked.

“I don't know,” Emilio said. “I suppose all I can do is keep on guarding the city to the best of my abilities.”

“Give the city a rest tonight, love,” Katrina said, placing a soft kiss on Emilio's lips. Emilio and Katrina kissed again and then Emilio turned the lights off.



Later.

Mindy Falconer couldn't sleep. She had had a very busy last couple of days as a hostage. As she laid in bed, she picked up her cell phone and dialed a number. “Hello, this is Mindy,” she said.

“Mindy!” the voice on the other end of the line said. “What happened today? ”

“I don't know,” Mindy replied. “I followed the plan to the dot. I could have sworn my dad was going to just hand over the money but he must have grown a spine or something.”

“Is this going to be a problem?” the voice asked.

“No,” Mindy said. “You'll get your money, Whisper.”

“I'd better,” Whisper replied. Suddenly, a man in a dark overcoat and sunglasses appeared in Mindy's room. He hung over her like a vulture looking at its prey. “My boss will kill me otherwise and if that happens, my friends will stop at nothing to make sure that your life is a living hell.”

“Please,” Mindy said, slightly crying, “just teleport the @%&* away again and leave me alone.”

“For now, Mindy,” Whisper said. He teleported away again and a voice on Mindy's cellphone said, “For now.”



One year ago.

“Mr. Luthor! Mr. Luthor!” Sebastian Mallory yelled after Lex. Lex had returned to the LexCorp – Vanity branch for the day and had just left. He was walking out of the front lobby as Sebastian Mallory chased after him.

“Mr. Mallory,” Lex said. “Why, might I ask, are you embarrassing yourself like this?”

“I tried to share my proposition with you last year, sir, but you were too busy! Please hear me out now! I promise it will be worth your while.”

“You have ten seconds, Sebastian,” Luthor groaned.

“Okay, sir. Thank you, sir,” Sebastian said.

“Nine seconds.”

“I had an idea for a potential weapons development,” Sebastian began. “Imagine a cloned army created with the DNA of the world’s most powerful humans.”

Lex's ears perked up. Cloning interested him, even though his results in that area hadn’t always been a complete success. A cloned human who represented the best of humanity; this was everything Lex ever hoped for. Perhaps this was the key to defeating Superman. Perhaps Sebastian Mallory was on to something. “I'm listening,” he said.

“We could narrow it down to the seven most powerful humans in existence,” Sebastian said. “Just... imagine this army, this invincible legion representing the best that mankind can offer.”

“The Ultimate Men,” Lex said, smiling. “That's what you'll call them. I'll come back next year to check on your progress, Sebastian. Good luck. Here's my personal number. If I'm... unavailable, please call me one year from now. Not a single second earlier.”

“Um... yes, sir! Thank you, sir!” Sebastian called after Lex Luthor, but Lex was already out of the building.



Now.

Lex Luthor was a man with many resources. Even as a wanted fugitive, he had no difficulty in continuing his work and research while hiding away in a hidden bunker beneath Metropolis. At the moment, he was scribbling notes on a chalkboard when Mercy Graves, his companion and assistant, walked in. “Lex?” she asked.

Luthor threw down his chalk in frustration. “Mercy!” he yelled. “I was probably thirty seconds away from constructing a cure to heal paralysis! You broke my concentration and now I'm going to have to start over!”

“I'm sorry,” Mercy said, coolly, not really caring. “You have a phone call from Sebastian Mallory.”

“Patch it through,” Lex said, forgetting his annoyance, as his thoughts turned to cloning and he looked at Mercy.

“Hello, Mr. Luthor?” Sebastian Mallory's voice said on the other end. “The first Ultimate Man has been completed.”






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