Trophy of a Hero
Commissioned by Eddyboy1805 and RozzyTheToon
Written by TwistedSnakes
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
There was an explosion. He had turned around, but there was no time to react. Black tendrils had come up to restrain him, and a wave of darkness had engulfed him.
Ignition woke up with a start. Where was he? He tried to get up, but his spandex-clad body was held down on a white table by dark tendrils.
Dusk! The villain’s signature tendrils were unmistakable.
The wolgon looked around frantically as his vision cleared. He was in a small laboratory-like room. Everything was white: the wall panels, the ceiling, and even the table he was restrained on. He was probably in a villain’s lair somewhere. Possibly underground too, away from the prying eyes of society and the Guardian Alliance.
The Guardian Alliance. Surely they’d notice that he was missing and come rescue him. Silverfrost, the head of the Alliance, was sharp about these things. Help would have to come soon, though, because if the tendrils were anything to go by, Dusk wasn’t far away.
In the meantime, he’d have to take care of himself. His arms were restrained to his sides and his feet were spaced shoulder-width apart in a neutral position. More tendrils bound his chest to the table. Damn. To use his fire powers, he needed to move his body. Bound like this, he was literally powerless.
As far as he could tell, his mask had not been tampered with. The villain hadn’t exposed his identity. Not yet, anyway. Craning his neck to look around, he could see a clear panel mounted on each side of the table, forming a sort of tank. The panels were just high enough that if water was poured into it, Ignition would be fully submerged. That was not good.
“You’re awake.”
A deep voice sent shudders down Ignition’s spine. He looked towards the source of the voice to see Dusk enter the room. Well, not quite Dusk. In his villainous escapades, Dusk wore a black skin-tight suit with neon-purple highlights, along with an eye mask that hid his facial features. Yet even without the suit, the snake’s jet-black scales and sapphire-blue highlights were a dead giveaway to Ignition’s keen eyes.
Ignition grunted. The snake was wearing a tailor-fitted business suit that emphasised the curves of his muscular body. Without his suit, Dusk looked normal, almost as if he were a functioning member of society. The idea of evil lurking among the innocents of society was loathsome. What wouldn’t he do to round the lot of them up and throw them into jail where they belonged?
“Where am I?” the hero asked.
Dusk chuckled. “Even as prisoners, you heroes always want to do the interrogation. Sure, I’ll indulge you. I’ll answer any three questions you have.”
Ignition was taken aback. Villains rarely divulged information so freely, but then again, Dusk wasn’t your typical villain. He’d have to make the most of it.
“Where are we now?”
“Silvenus Tower, 7th street, 53rd floor. The entire building happens to be my lair.”
Hiding in plain sight. Ignition clenched his teeth.
“Next question.”
“Who are you?”
“Dusk, unless you’re asking for my actual name. In that case, I’m Sephos Valon. That was an easy question. Are you sure you want to waste your questions on trivial matters like these?”
An uneasy feeling washed over Ignition. Something was off about this entire exchange. For a villain to be giving away all his secrets to a prisoner, it meant that Sephos had no intention of letting him go. Judging by his surroundings, he guessed the villain wanted to perform some sort of experiment on him. Maybe implant a mind control device in his brain, or to turn him into a living battery with his fire powers as his core. Whatever Sephos’ plan was, he’d have to buy as much time as he could.
“What do you want from me?”
“Hmm, finally a good question.” The snake grinned smugly. “I want to keep you as a trophy. Not as Cobra Fraener, but as Ignition.”
Ignition flinched. Sephos even knew his true identity.
“That’s why I left your mask untouched. I’ll have you preserved as the hero you are.”
“What are you going to do to me?!” Ignition thrashed in his restraints. “You’ll never get away with—mfft!” A dark tendril wrapped around his mouth, gagging him.
“Your three questions are up. Did you really think you could get me to do a long monologue until your friends come? Are all heroes this naive, or is it just you?”
“Mfnnt!” Ignition retorted.
Mounted above Ignition was a rectangular metal frame. Sephos grabbed it and pulled it down, assisted by sliding rails on the steel mount. As it descended over the wolgon, he could see that a transparent sheet was stretched over it. The metal frame slid into the space created by the four clear panels, perfectly flushed against their smooth surfaces.
Ignition had nowhere to escape to as the sheet was pressed over him. The sheet was flexible and elastic, stretching to fit the curves of his body. There was a soft whirring sound as an unseen vacuum sucked the air out from under the sheet. Ignition could feel a second sheet wrap around his body from behind him. The tendrils restraining him retreated into the shadow dimension, leaving the hero trapped between the two sheets. The wolgon attempted to take a breath, but the clear latex sheet only pressed harder against his nose.
Shit, shit, shit! He couldn’t breathe!
The wolgon held his breath. When it came to holding his breath, his endurance was much greater than most people. However, he couldn’t hold it forever. He had to escape if he wanted to survive. Sephos wasn’t going to let him go after revealing all his secrets. This was really a situation of life or death.
He tried to lift his arms, but the rubber sheets pulled them back down. He could barely move them a few inches before the elastic tension dragged them back to the table. Despite his greatest efforts, he couldn’t even lift his body off the table. Time for Plan B. He dug his gloved claws into the latex sheets, trying to tear a hole into them. The sheets moved with his fingers, refusing to give the hero any leverage against their elastic surfaces.
Heat emanated from behind him, but it wasn’t because of his fire ability. The table under him was heating up. As Ignition continued to thrash about, he could feel the two latex sheets fusing together. The heat was sealing him in! His struggles grew feebler as he was vacuum-packed like a slab of fresh meat.
Ignition clenched his throat. His lungs were screaming for air and he had to fight the urge to take a deep breath. Even with his endurance, he gave himself only another three, maybe four more minutes before his lungs gave out. His life was on the line. He couldn’t rely on help to come. The wolgon renewed his efforts in trying to escape.
He couldn’t hold his breath for much longer. Instincts won over conscious effort and he gasped for air. He could exhale just fine, but as he inhaled, the latex sheet was sucked against his face. Taking another breath was a herculean effort, and it took everything within him to draw in just a small breath of air.
Sephos watched intently as the hero struggled in his latex prison, fighting for his life. He nodded. Holes along the sides of the table began pumping in a clear, viscous liquid. It lapped against the vacuum-packed superhero, adding resistance to his squirms. It spilled over the edges of the latex sheets, engulfing Ignition beneath its viscous flow.
The wolgon frantically tried to lift his arms, no longer an attempt to escape, but as an instinctive reaction to clutch at his throat. His chest felt constricted, desperately trying to quench the fire in his lungs with a breath of fresh air. The liquid was heavy, compressing his chest beneath its weight.
Hold on for just a while longer. Help would have to come soon.
A part of him knew that was a lie, but he was grasping at straws. Even just a glimmer of hope could give him a bit more perseverance. The rising liquid stopped at the height of the panels, forming a flat glossy surface above the table. Despite the hero’s movements, the surface of the viscous fluid remained undisturbed, as if he was separated from the rest of the world by a pane of solid glass. The latex sheets were invisible in the fluid, giving the impression that the struggling hero was encased in a transparent block.
Lights from the tabletop and the ceiling turned on, casting a purple-blue light over him. Ignition instinctively closed his eyes to shield them from the stinging glare. He didn’t know what was happening, but one thing was clear: he needed to escape. Sephos had left the room, leaving the wolgon to his fate. If he could get out of this predicament before the serpent came back, he could find a way out of the building and escape.
As he tried to break free of the latex, he came to a terrible realisation: the liquid was getting thicker as time went by. The purple-blue light was UV-curing the fluid, which must be liquid resin. He was getting encased in a block of resin! Time was running out. If he didn’t get out of this, he’d be permanently sealed in.
This wasn’t supposed to happen! Heroes were supposed to win. Good triumphs over evil, right?
He could no longer hold his breath. The wolgon let out a gasp, but his next breath was impossible. The resin was curing around his body, leaving no space for his chest to rise. Not that there was any air to be inhaled either; all the air had been sucked out of his latex prison. His body was not taking this well. Fighting for survival, his body’s natural instincts took over. His muscles were tensed as he tried to thrash around. His chest was convulsing in the little space it had left, trying in vain to breathe in air that wasn’t there.
Surely this was the end for him.
Ignition’s lungs were aching with burning pain. His involuntary struggles gave out to feeble spasms. He was feeling light-headed as his vision blurred. Was he stupid for wishing that Sephos would come back? Stupid for hoping the serpent would have mercy and free him?
He couldn’t die like this. There was still unfinished business. Esnos City still needed protection.
The wolgon thought of the other heroes back at the headquarters. What would they think when they hear the news of his death? How would he be remembered? Would they take revenge on Sephos for him? His death would not be in vain. Even if he were gone, the Guardian Alliance would keep Esnos protected. More heroes would rise to fill the hole he had left behind. There was some good in that.
His parents. His friends. The Alliance would inform them of his passing. How much would they reveal about him? Would they learn of his alter ego as a superhero? Or would they cover it up as an accident?
His pained expression softened as he gradually slipped away. The tension in his chest eased up. A fuzzy haze enveloped his mind, giving his thoughts a foggy quality. If he was going to die here, at least he’d be at peace with it. His vision faded away, and he felt like he was sinking into a soft bed. The bed must’ve been fluffy and thick, because he was falling deeper and deeper into it. He was drifting down gently like a leaf in autumn, floating into the vast expanse of beyond.
Darkness came like a warm blanket, tucking him to sleep for the last time.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
The Miasma conference room was so deadly quiet, the sound of tapping could be heard as a black-scaled snake scrolled through a document on his tablet. Everyone else watched him with bated breaths, as if his wrathful attention would be drawn to them if they so much as exhaled.
“Talent discovery,” Sephos said.
A shark inhaled sharply with wide eyes.
“7 power-wielders discovered this month,” the serpent continued, reading off his tablet. “2 joined the Alliance, 5 joined us.”
There was a tense moment of silence. The Guardian Alliance had grown by two superheroes. Was that too many for the snake?
“Good job.”
The shark looked relieved as he sank back into his thick leather seat. Everyone else silently let out a collective sigh.
“Next, government infiltration.”
An eagle clenched the padded armrests of his seat with his sharp talons.
“Attempted to extract intelligence from the National Defence Division. Thwarted by a squad from the Alliance. Kiren?”
Heads turned to look at the eagle. The sweating eagle struggled to find a response to the unspoken question. “I, uh, well…somehow the Alliance caught wind of our plans and dispatched a team to neutralise our—”
“This is our highest priority. Taking over Esnos begins with this.”
“I understand, sir, but—” The eagle trembled.
“This sets us back 2, maybe 3 years.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll make sure—”
“Roxxie. You know this mission must not fail. Why did you not stop your Alliance from interfering?”
A snow leopard sat up straight in his seat as all eyes in the room turned towards him. “Sir, this was out of my control,” he explained. “I specifically diverted all patrols to the city outskirts, but the emergency response team reacted before I was aware of—”
“Do you know the price of your failure? If I hadn’t stepped in, your men could’ve exposed our plans.” The snake spoke calmly, but anger dripped like venom in each word. “If the government found it, they would tighten security a thousandfold.”
Roxxie eyed the middle of the conference table. A rectangular hole had been cut into its mahogany surface, and in it was a block of resin. In it was the figure of the recently missing Ignition. He was on the emergency response team the night of the raid. Sephos must’ve defeated him and made him a permanent addition to the new table. Was he even alive in there? No, he couldn’t sense a life force from the hero. He let out a silent sigh of relief. He didn’t need any witnesses of his affiliation with Miasma.
“W-why don’t we disband the Alliance? Then they wouldn’t keep—” Kiren interrupted the snow leopard’s train of thoughts.
“Roxxie,” Sephos turned to the snow leopard. “please explain the purpose of the Alliance.”
The snow leopard sighed. “Not all power-wielders agree with the goals of Miasma,” he recited from memory. “The Guardian Alliance exists to keep these heroes in check. Even if I were to disband the Alliance here and now, another group would rise to take its place. As such, the Alliance will continue to stand so we can control them from behind the scenes.”
“And you will continue to keep them in line, is that right, Roxxie? Or should I say, Silverfrost?”
Roxxie looked at the young hero encased in clear, polished resin, preserved in his moment of death. Ignition’s face was neutral, almost as if he were a plastic figurine still in its original packaging. The sides of his lips curled into a smirk.
“Yes, sir. I will.”
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
~ End ~