Super Genetics

HeroWatch Entry

(last updated Year 55:7:14 18:27 local time)

(Note: This entry has been edit restricted due to vandalism and anti-super rhetoric)

Capstone Quest

Summary

Very little information is available concerning Capstone Quests and most of what is known has been extrapolated by those of us left behind (marked controversial, consider revising). What we do know, is—unlike the (Midmark Quest)—a Capstone Quest always results in a summons to another place. Whether that place is another world, realm, or a different time is unclear (needs citation).

The Capstone Quest is the final hurdle before a super reaches the pinnacle of the power ranking ladder, the vaunted S-rank (edit suggestion: unconfirmed that S-rank is highest ranking, needs citation). While supers seem unable or unwilling to discuss the specifics of any of their system-provided Quests, it is confirmed that returning supers always demonstrate a significant increase in powerset scope and strength. The most famous examples are the first (Originals) to return from their Capstone Quest: (Dancer, formerly Disco) and (Tempest), sparking the (Second American Civil War) that resulted in (The Splintering).

Returning Heroes (in order of confirmed return date)

(Disco, see: Dancer) (Started Year 12, Returned Year 13)

(Tempest (Deceased)) (Started Year 11, Returned Year 13)

(Polaris) (Started Year 13, Returned Year 15)

(Bug Boy (Deceased)) (Started Year 11, Returned Year 17)

(Tectonic) (Started Year 10, Returned Year 18)

(231 entries—click to expand)

Heroes Currently Engaged in their Capstone Quest

(Whitefeather Moon) (Started Year 48)

(Merlin (see: Merlin — disambiguation)) (Started Year 51)

(The Paragon) (Started Year 51)

(Freedom Fighter) (Started Year 52)

(Boy Genius) (Started Year 52)

(37 entries—click to expand)

Presumed Dead (missing 10 years or more)

(Shatterspear) (Started Year 12)

(A-Bomb) (Started Year 12)

(Wrecker) (Started Year 13)

(Teargas) (Started Year 13)

(Gunmetal) (Started Year 13)

(178 entries—click to expand)

Confirmed Dead

(Wild Card) (Started Year 16, Confirmed Dead Year 33)

(El Gato Negro) (Started Year 21, Confirmed Dead Year 23)

(Apex) (Started Year 26, Confirmed Dead Year 48)

(Flying Crane) (Started Year 34, Confirmed Dead Year 36)

(Cryptonix) (Started Year 42, Confirmed Dead Year 42)

(12 entries—click to expand)

The super known as Silver lightly touched down on the rooftop’s edge, his feet whisper soft on the rough brick. Through the dense fog—and exactly seven buildings—he studied the boy hundreds of feet in the distance. Not with his eyes, but with his other senses. He could hear the blood pumping through veins, the grinding sound of bone shifting on bone, the harsh intake of breath in response.

And not just the sounds, but the smells, too.

Fear oozed out in the form of a chemical smell Silver had come to recognize well. There was adrenaline, cortisol, and a dizzying array of other pheromones that painted a picture in his mind.

The boy was brave—no denying that. Or maybe stupid. Either way, that didn’t explain Silver’s presence here now.

“Why here, System?” He spoke to the air, his voice echoing around him in the fog.

No one replied.

At least, not audibly.

After a few moments, Silver snapped out, his tone tight and clipped.

“I don’t—no, that’s not—NO! Are you kidd—” He cut off, his eyes narrowing. His foot ground into the roof, snapping a piece of the brick off. It flew over the edge, disappearing in the fog for a moment before hitting the road below with a crack.

A minute passed in silence. Finally, his clenching muscles relaxed, his narrowed eyes loosening.

Softly, he spoke. “I know what I said.” A pause. “Fine. That’s how it’s gonna be?” He focused his senses on the boy once more, then scanned the surrounding city blocks. “Unless one of his zombies guts him, he’ll live. Now, spill it.”

His voice lowered an octave, his fists clenched tightly.

“Tell me where Penelope is.”

With Silver’s departure, the reality of the situation hit Terry like a—well, like a series of cracked ribs. But more than his own personal discomfort, the mounds of bodies, both human and undead, weighed on him like a heavy shroud. Though he knew the draugr had been out of control, knew that if nothing had been done, more innocent civilians would have been cut down, he still felt that each one of those mounds protruding from the fog were on him.

If only I’d sent for back up, one of the higher-caste undead left behind, maybe…

But there was no one. There were no higher-caste to leash a wild draugr. At least, none that could have made it here fast enough to prevent further bloodshed. Terry didn’t know how a patchwork or two would stack up against a draugr. But then he remembered that Mesmer was still in the city. Maybe he could have stopped the draugr? Or maybe, he would have stopped Terry from even leaving the palace, resulting in even more deaths.

Still, if he had been smart, if he had been strategic, he could have lured the draugr into a trap. Or led it away from the gates.

And into the heart of the city, you dummy.

He pushed those unproductive thoughts away, focusing on the situation in front of him. It had only been a week since Sol’s attack. Only a week since his dislocated shoulder and minor burns. And somehow, he’d found himself in the thick of another battle. The sharp pinching in his chest spoke of broken or fractured ribs, while the band of fire wrapped around his wrist put paid to any idea that he hadn’t shattered it.

Yet, he was alive. More than he could say for those laying immobile on the street before him.

Sirens materialized in the distance, sounding distant and muted through the heavy fog. Blue and red lights flashed in his periphery a minute later, signaling the first responders that had finally made it past the pile of abandoned cars.

Not that it would do any good. Everyone present that wasn’t Terry or undead was a corpse. As for the ghouls—who, despite the name undead, could very much die—they had their own system for dealing with their dead.

A paramedic came into view carrying a medical bag. He was young, barely twenty if Terry had to guess, with pimples dotting his face and patchwork stubble like weeds fighting up through sidewalk. His eyes were wide, the whites uncomfortably visible as he approached Terry and Crunch. When he was only a few feet away, Crunch interposed himself, his teeth grating together in warning.

To the paramedic’s credit, he wavered but didn’t retreat.

“He’s injured. I can help,” the older boy said with only the slightest quaver in his voice.

Before Crunch could intimidate the paramedic further, Terry tried to speak. Tried to, because the dust and heavy fog were drying his throat out, and his words turned into a hacking cough.

That was enough for Crunch to step aside in concern as the paramedic rushed over. He started by checking Terry’s pulse, then moved on to check his eyes with a small flashlight. After a few simple commands, such as follow my finger and take a deep breath—which he couldn’t—the paramedic turned to see Crunch inches from his face. Terry knew the ghoul wasn’t trying to be intimidating, but was staying close enough to strike in case the paramedic turned out to be something other than what he appeared.

“Crunch,” Terry said with a raspy voice. “He’s just a paramedic. Let him work.”

“Of course, my prince. But aura erratic—”

“Prince?” the older boy gaped, the small flashlight slipping from his grip. The clatter of the device on the street startled him and he rushed to pick it up. When he stood back up, he was eyeing Terry with both fear and amazement. “So-sorry, my prince.”

Terry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He had to remind himself that he had been just as starstruck five minutes earlier with Silver’s display of effortless power. Though, he felt justified in saying that an S-ranker accidentally curb-stomping a powerful undead creature was a bit more impressive than just being a prince by happenstance of birth.

“Please, it’s fine,” Terry said as calmly as he could with his aching chest. “Just do what you need to.”

The older boy nodded, though Terry noted his hands shook just a smidge more than before.

A hovering, undead killing machine with a mouthful of jagged teeth was less intimidating of a prospect than administering first aid to the prince, Terry mused wryly. In his own mind, there was nothing special about a prince—especially one that had almost no chance of becoming anything more than that. His father was next in line, and by all accounts, the Emperor would outlive them all as an S-ranker anyway.

Still, Terry couldn’t fault the older boy. There was a difference between growing up in a palace and being on the outside looking in. Other than the unusual fog and unending night, this was probably the weirdest thing to happen to the paramedic in his entire life.

Actually, this was the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me, too! And I was just almost kidnapped by one of my idols only last week.

He shook his head with a chuckle, then had to wave away the boy’s unasked question when he stopped bandaging Terry’s wrist.

A few moments later, Crunch’s head shot up and Terry’s heart skipped a beat.

“What is it, Crunch?” He hated the slight tremor in his voice. But the thought of another rogue draugr—or worse, an unregistered S-ranker popping in—was enough to send his heart racing.

Then Terry heard it and his entire body flushed with heat. It was a wailing cry echoing in the fog, eerily similar to the sound the draugr had made just before it died.

“There’s two?” he whispered to Crunch.

But the ghoul didn’t answer, tilting his head. After a tense moment that dragged on for an eternity, the ghoul shook his head.

“A survivor.”

Now that spurred Terry into action. Before he could even register the fire flaring in his chest, he was off the hood of the car and past the paramedic.

“Show me.” Crunch began to lead him toward the city walls, but Terry stopped him with his good hand. Turning back to the paramedic, he nodded toward the wall. “You coming?”

The older boy’s eyes went wide in surprise, then he hurriedly picked up his bag and jogged after them.

After only a few steps, it became apparent that Terry was in no shape to lead the search. He waved for Crunch to direct the paramedic while he followed behind. The ghoul agreed, but called out into the fog in his language. A second later, Burg was at their side, supporting Terry’s weight with an arm around his waist.

Crunch and the paramedic took off at a much quicker pace once Burg had arrived and he didn’t mind following at a more comfortable speed. As he limped through the fog, the sound of screaming grew louder and he was surprised to realize that it wasn’t anything like the draugr’s pitiful mewling.

Instead, it was the sound of impotent rage—a blood-curdling scream that raised goosebumps along his arms.

The screams stopped at some point and he was forced to follow Burg’s lead now that he couldn’t echo-locate through the fog. When Crunch and the paramedic came into view, Terry stopped involuntarily, his heart aching at the sight.

A young girl was pushing the paramedic away, her hair drooped over her face as she clung to the two mounds in front of her. He didn’t need to approach to know that those were her parents—it was written plain as day in the pain in her voice.

The paramedic tried one more time to check on her and she whirled on him like a feral dog, scratching at him as she screamed incoherently. He flinched away, holding his hands up in surrender. She snarled at him one more time before turning back to her parents’ bodies.

That spurred Terry forward and he kept his voice low as he approached.

“Hi there. My name’s Terry and th-this is my fault. I…I’m so sorry.”

The girl whipped her head around, her nose furled in a snarl. But when she saw Terry limping toward her, the cloud in her eyes cleared.

“Wasn’t you.” Her voice was high but full of fire. “Was that damned rotting motherfu—” She broke down, her head resting against what appeared to be her mother’s corpse.

He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to console the girl. No, he knew from experience, there was nothing anyone could say. All he had ever wanted since he’d learned of his mother’s death was to be held. That was all…

“I lost my mother, too. Last—” His voice broke and he cleared his throat. She glanced up at him through stringy hair. “Last week, actually. Can I…can I give you a hug?”

It sounded so foolish leaving his mouth. A hug? Right here in front of her dead parents? But to his surprise, she nodded—quick, nearly missed.

Reaching down, he lightly brushed her shoulder. She flinched, but didn’t attack like she had the paramedic. Slowly—and with a lot of pain—he crouched down and put one arm around her shoulders. He didn’t pull her in but just gave her that little bit of pressure to let her know he was there.

Suddenly, she threw herself into him, wrapping her arms tight around his neck. He gasped as a fire hotter than Sol’s supernova ignited in his chest. His arms went weak and he fell back with a cry.

“My prince!” Crunch cried.

“You’re hurt,” the girl said at the same time, pulling her weight off to stare down at him with accusation in her eyes.

The paramedic bent down, reaching around her to get at Terry. He cut away Terry’s shirt with scissors from his bag.

“It’s…nothing…” Terry said through gritted teeth. “Just…got…in a…fight…draugr.” His lungs were squeezed tight and he gasped.

“You fought it,” the girl whispered. Her eyes were wide as she stared down at him.

He smiled weakly, then realized that the air wouldn’t come. He clutched at his chest with his good hand, but his lungs had iron bands around them. Above him, Crunch was shouting something, but his brain wasn’t working. All he could think was: air, I need air!

Hands touched his chest, spiking pain that felt far away. He tried to grab those hands, but something powerful grabbed him instead, pinning him down.

His eyes locked on the paramedic, then tracked down to what he was holding. In his hand was a far-too-large needle…and he was holding it above Terry’s chest.

No, that doesn’t go there, his brain thought weakly.

Before he could tell the paramedic he was mistaken, his vision tunneled in and everything went black.