Flassche: Power [M for All]

[DarkEnigma]

Please refrain from replying directly to this thread, Pm me if you are interested.

Title: Power

Excerpt:
A tale about an person’s road to becoming the number one hero, whilst not fully realising the price that needs to be paid along the way.
The story itself has MC stealing powers from villains/heros and granting them to yours, at a price, portraying himself to be a mentor of sorts throughout all of it, yet in reality being the greatest threat to mankind.

Content:
-Body/mental alteration
-Outfits!
-Crime fighting
-Non-con

Setting:
Modern

My Character(s):
I'd love to portray the mentor/villain of the story. In reality he would have been around for a long time, enough to see the downward spiral of human nature.
He´d keep his true intentions and powers hidden from the hero in training, only springing the trap when the time has come.
Beyond him I would want to portray side characters, supporting staff and what not.

Your Character(s):
I am very open to suggestions here, be it a single person or multiples, male or female. There is a non-con/threesome element to this story, seeing as our characters would steal powers from villains/corrupt heroes that they have beaten and granting them to your character. So occasionally there will be a third party added that we have to share.

Inspiration for the scene:
Marvel/DC/Boku no Hero/Countless others.

[DarkEnigma]

Chapter zero: Prologue

The man tried to rise upwards once more, yet failed. Fresh warm blood ran down his side that he was clutching. He had lost a lot... too much. His vision was already lessening and it was harder to really focus on things. In the back of his mind, he was still wondering whether or not the civilians were safe.. if they had managed to getaway.

"Why.." He said finally as he fell down on his knees again, his body falling backward into the wall for support. "Why now..  this?" He asked, his mouth struggling to produce the words without spitting up more blood.

"You know why."

The figure said as the distance between them grew smaller. No longer did this monster seem hostile.. any threat he had once displayed in ample was now replaced with a strange and almost alien expression... sadness.
All around them were signs of destruction and death. Dozens of soldiers, police officers, and civilians lay strewn about the place. Here and there one could see a strange sight of a man or woman dressed in unusual attire that marked him or her as a 'gifted', yet they had fallen just like the rest of them.

"These people are a cancer to this world. They lack the innate motivation to improve themselves, no matter how much they are shown or prodded. You must have noticed it the last few years just as I have seen it for far longer." 

The man said as he moved closer towards the fallen hero and placed his hand on his shoulder, softly shaking it to keep him in this world for just a few seconds longer. He cared for him, he truly did. Fighting him and delivering the final blow had been one of the hardest things he had ever done, yet he had done it nonetheless.

"This is the only way. People do not change through peace.. they chance through strive. Death is required for their survival."

He said before resting his own forehead against his, closing his eyes before standing up again and towering over the fallen hero that had drawn his last breath. He wanted to pay his respects to the man, yet knew that he couldn't. His death needed to become a signal.. a beacon for the rest of humanity to rally behind.  People did not change when their lives were safe and secure.. Strife, hatred, and grief were the only forces in this world strong enough to move the masses.

The few survivors of that day would report to the world that in 1951 there had been a titan of humanity that had stood against evil. He had endured and had fallen, yet humanity had been saved.

Chapter one: An agrement.

The man sat silently as he cradled his drink in his hand, watching the television from the comforts of his barstool. The tv was running another sponsored product by one of the 'heroes' that currently were in the limelight. He barely had the mental control to not throw his glass at the tv when he found out it was an ad for a laxative drink.

It had been over seventy years since the fall of the world's strongest hero. At first, mankind had rallied behind the banner his death had created. Reforms, funding, and recruitment skyrocketed. Dozens of hidden gifted emerged and joined government-funded programs to protect its citizens. Leagues were started to improve international law-keeping and as crime dwindled each year, so did the threat of further conflict.
For years this endured until the banner began to lose its importance and greed and politics began to interfere.

Now, years later. Heroes are seen as celebrity symbols, often with them having their own brands, agents and even starring in movies and tv-shows.
Cities and nations now offer lucrative contracts to import or export the heroes to further the status of a nation or city.
Whilst still a deterrent to major criminal events or disasters, minor incidents or crimes have been allowed to flourish due to it being beneath the time and effort of the average gifted.

The sacrifice of earth's strongest and purest had been corrupted by neglect, greed, and envy. This would not be allowed.. this would not be forgiven.. and this would change.

So, there he sat with his drink in hand, watching a barfight slowly escalate into something more until it was steered outside. The odds were unfavorable, yet he had seen something in the way one of them acted. There was something in the eyes that reminded him of his old friend.
So he waited, for minutes until he finally finished his drink and left a few bills on the table.

Walking out he noticed the scene he had been expecting; a few wounded on the floor and a 'the victors' licking their wounds and discussing what to do with their prey.
They barely had time to register the newcomer before the first shoulder was dislocated within a seconds before another had both of his legs snapped and was thrown down the alleyway like a dirty rag. Those that still had their wits about them quickly rushed away, knowing it was unwise to fight against a gifted.

Standing over the nearly passed-out 'prospect' he had seen earlier in the bar he smiled. The wounds were painful, yet they would heal just fine. He spoke then about an offer of power before handing him a card that listed a place and a date.
How much of this would be remembered the next morning would be uncertain, yet a smart soul would no doubt be able to figure out what might have happened that night and who had stepped in to deal with the other men.

[DarkEnigma]

Change log

28-03-2021 – Added the plot.
16-07-2021 - Bumped the plot