Donniedrako15_

One hundred years after superpowers have become commonplace, generations have seemingly adopted and lived in a chaotic superhuman society run by heroes and villains. In said society, countless heroes strive to climb to rise to old legends, but this isn't their story. Instead, we are here to shine a light on the literal worst of the worst, a team of criminals, outcasts, and misfits that struggle to survive in this mad world. After all, when you're already at the bottom, it makes sense to focus only on The Cons.

The Cons

I don't believe in miracles; at least, I don't believe in them anymore. It was a long hard, painful lesson, but I accepted nonetheless long ago that miracles were nothing more than empty promises we constantly advertised in this superhuman society. We praise luck that gives power to people undeserving and praises hope for false promises to those same unworthy.


I know because I'm probably the one who ate that crap up the most. Any success I've made on this journey wasn't from some ability. More so my resolve to see it all through to the end. And it seems today my end won't come as before Fury could carry through the slash a large cow-like woman tackled her like a freight train. The blow was so ferocious that Fury instantly got off course, wholly disoriented from the momentum and tear gas.


She tried to get up and continue the fight, but in a start, she quickly got bombarded with a barrage of blaster fire from six different shooters. Amongst the shell, Knuckle zoomed in with a boxing-like stance, blue hands alight as he entered the fray with jarring jabs and heavy hooks to throw her off balance all the more.


Rage and fatigue made Fury's attacks all the more sloppy as with a single lunge; the match got decided, Knuckle in one fatal move struck Fury; she dented herself in the concrete. Then, before she could get up, Quill backstabbed her, keeping her pinned with his bone-like spears.


For the first time in my life, I saw Fury roar with pain and defeat. Yet when a set of booming footsteps approached, that roaring became quieter than a shadow. And upon seeing the figure that held those steps, I understood why.


That same aching that I felt before came back stronger than ever, becoming more intoxicating than Fury's aura ever was. And as the figure looked at the lulled monster, all he could do was give a smirk and snide remark.


"Good, you know it's time to remind you of your place," he said in a fanciful manner.


And with a single stroke, the figure revealed a familiarly painful red lighting on his forearm, striking her down with a sizzling blast that made my skin crawl. Fury gave out one last whimper of pain as she quickly reverted to human form, butt naked but all right.


The figure seemed to give a nasty grin at the sight while in tandem, the rest of The Cons came in, surrounded by men who had them at gunpoint. A sense of crippling defeat washed over me as the man finally revealed himself to me.


Height-wise, he was a little under 5 feet with a skinny frame to match, but that didn't matter compared to his larger-than-life wardrobe. The figure wore a cheap gold crown, a ragged royal red cape with white hems and black dots connected with a wooden cane with cheap studs embedded inside.


His main outfit consisted of a red belt, armbands, and an overall navy blue suit stitched out of rags. The only thing remarkable was his diamond-colored badged with the same oriental "D" I've seen on the others. Everything about him screamed mediocrity. Yet, every person in this room felt an inescapable fear, one so great that no one dared question him as they kneeled. Instead, the only words that filled the room were this.


"Well, I guess this means we are ahead of schedule."


Into the Fire Epilogue