Return of the Hero 2 - The World Has Changed

Lucas Ward was a warrior of Heaven, a respected commander in their armies, and a warrior whose name was now etched in the halls of eternity. Despite this, however, he was currently sitting on a hospital bed, forced to eat ice chips because the doctors wouldn’t let him drink water yet. A nurse, a new one this time who Lucas had not caught the name of yet, messed with some of the equipment around them while Doctor Holt explained their new reality to him.

He had his gaze fixed on the news, fishing ice cubes out of the little plastic cup they’d given him to crunch on them as the doctor rattled on.

“Your muscles have been maintained remarkably well. As have your vocal cords – you look nothing like what a five-year coma patient should. Still some atrophy we’ll need to address, physical therapy that will be required, but overall, you are remarkably healthy,” Holt told him. Lucas hummed in the back of his throat, swallowing the bits of ice from his latest cube. The news showed Tokyo, the city itself covered in smog, while some giant purple portal he knew all to well loomed over the ocean on the horizon.

A giant snake, or something resembling it, hauled its way out of the portal. Its scales were as dark as the night sky, noxious miasma pouring from its mouth, slit eyes glowing yellow and hateful. The camera shook as the snake hissed, waves crashing against its massive body as it slithered its way out of the portal, rearing up like some nightmare straight out of hell. Which was, in some ways, comforting.

Lucas crunched on another ice chip, hesitant to reach his soul out to feel this creature, even all the way around the world as it was, as his spirit was still settling into his body. It may look like a demonic nightmare beast, but it didn’t look like one of the minions of the Unspoken Ones. It lacked that distinct oddness to it, the wrongness that came from coming from outside the known universe.

“The Tokyo A-Rank gate continues to spew out monsters, despite Japan’s best working tirelessly to close it and contain the damage. Japan’s strongest S-Ranker, Minamoto Hiro, still remains in the gate despite having been within for nearly forty-eight hours; damages continue to pile up…” The reporter narrated, the volume down exceptionally low because, and Lucas quotes, the doctors ‘didn’t want to overwhelm him with the noise.’ He was already overwhelmed. At this point, he just wanted all the information he could get his hands on.

Little dots flying in the air around the snake shot lightning bolts and balls of fire at it, its massive body thrashing against the pain that now assailed it.

Lucas crunched another ice chip.

“Are you…sure this isn’t…the latest…Marvel movie?” he rasped out, vocal cords vibrating almost painfully as he gestured weakly toward the tv. He was already doing better than six hours ago, when he first woke up and could barely speak without tearing his throat apart.  

“I wish it was,” the nurse grumbled. “Lost my sister to one of those things two years ago. A d-rank gate, opened right in the middle of downtown,” Lucas looked up at her, hand frozen in his cup of ice. She didn’t look up as she spoke, still messing with whatever equipment, but the pain in her voice still felt raw and fresh.

“It’s happening all over the world,” Doctor Holt said, gesturing vaguely to the TV. “When they first opened we were stuck using conventional firearms against the monsters. They work, somewhat, but Supers are just better at it. We think it’s something to do with how magic interacts with magic. My friends at the guilds say guns aren’t used by Supers because there are too many moving parts; something about them makes it hard to channel magic into.”

“Supers?”

“Superheroes. Awakened. Hunters. Every nation has its own name for them, but we consider them superheroes in America,” Holt explained, sitting back a little, adjusting her white coat. On the TV, the giant snake went down just off the coast of the city, bolts of lightning striking it from the sky and setting the beast to convulsing. “Japan and Korea call them hunters. Most of Asia, if I remember right, do. I believe China calls them Masters. Europe took after us, and call them Supers or some variant like it. Not really sure,” she said, shaking her head.

“So…you’re a…superhero?” Lucas rasped, meeting the doctor’s eyes. She shook her head with a wry smile, lifting her hands and letting some green energy appear on her fingers for a brief moment.

“I’m only a d-class healer; just enough to guarantee me a job in the hospital. I’m nothing like your siblings,” she said with a wry smile. Lucas perked up at that, completely tuning out the news now. He crunched another ice cube. “The Ward twins are two of America’s forty S-class superheroes. To call them celebrities would be an understatement; they’re among some of the most famous people in the world right now. They’re also why you could afford care like this,” she gestured vaguely around the room, which was, admittedly, fairly nice despite all the electricity buzzing in his ears. Lucas winced. That sounded expensive.

“They’ve…paid for my…?” he asked softly. For over five years, his little siblings have been taking care of his body…when they didn’t need to. He looked around the room blankly. Archangel Michael had assured him that his physical body would be safe on Earth while he’d been in Heaven; this couldn’t have been what they meant. Right?

“Yes, though you would have been provided care for, for some time regardless. Magi-sleep as acute as yours is rare, and whatever magic you possess kept you alive. As I said before, your body is remarkably strong for someone just out of a coma,” she reasoned. A spike of panic leapt through Lucas’ heart at the accusation. Of course he had magic, it swirled in his chest like a dormant beast; they couldn’t have figured it out yet, had they? The depths of what he could do? He searched her face for any tells as she continued to describe his condition, obviously fascinated. No…no, if they had any inkling of how powerful he truly was, she would be acting very differently. Lucas relaxed fractionally as she waxed on and off about what they knew of his condition.

Some people became superheroes in the days during and after the first Gate openings. Some people are theorized to have been unable to cope with the sudden change, and had fallen into magically-induced sleep, Magi-sleep for short, which is what they attributed his coma to. That was both reassuring and terrifying; only a hundred other people worldwide had woken from the coma, thousands more sleeping and letting their bodies waste away.

Lucas would have to investigate that, but first he had a few other questions he needed to ask.

“I have magic?” he asked, pressing. It was getting really annoying, having to talk in clipped sentences like this, but the alternative was pumping enough of his power into his throat that it healed itself and that may raise questions he’d rather not ask.  

“You have to,” Holt said as the nurse left the room, clearly done with whatever she needed to do and dragging some equipment with her. “That’s the only explanation for how your body was able to sustain itself the way it did. We put the catheter in and the PEG tube to feed you, but while you were in a coma we weren’t able to test anything. Magical gear hasn’t advanced that far, we need people aware and awake in order to channel their energy into testing equipment,” Lucas nodded slowly, absorbing that. He could work with that. “Who knows, you could be America’s next S-class.” She teased. Lucas looked up at the TV screen, watching the heroes – hunters, whatever the hell they were called, and all the attention placed upon them.

…hell no. That sounded miserable. He was here to be on vacation, not fight humanity’s battles for them. He was intrigued by what was going on, of course, and he’d pay attention to what was happening, but…well, yeah. That was his only thought on that situation for the moment. Just one big fat NO.

You know you’ll get restless and help eventually, right? This is too interesting to let go. His traitorous mind unhelpfully supplied. Shut up, me. Vay. Cay. Tion. Relax. Focus on that first.

“My siblings? The…twins?” he asked, changing the subject. “Where? Or parents?”

“The Ward twins got called away to close a B-Rank gate in Washington, near Seattle. Why they were needed to close that gate is another question, but they probably won’t even get our message for another day or two. It’s not like you can talk on the phone in the other dimensions,” she shook her head, and Lucas leaned back in his bed. She purposely hadn’t mentioned his parents.

“Mom…and dad?” he pressed further, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. Doctor Holt’s expression flashed through a variety of emotions before settling on a plain, blank look.

“Worry about your health first, Mr. Ward,” she insisted. Lucas let out a long, slow breath, biting his lip. “Your siblings will be here to meet you when they can. Until then, rest, and focus on getting better.” He shook his head pointedly, practically begging her to tell him the truth, but she refused to meet his eyes.

He knew the answer already, he could feel it in his bones. Lucas set his ice cup to the side, relaxing into his bed and trying to focus on the here and now, not the hypotheticals. His right foot itched, but he couldn’t reach down to scratch it, which only reminded him of the two other sources of discomfort he was feeling.

The catheter and the feeding tube in his stomach. He wanted those gone, now. But he wasn’t going to get his way unless he showed abilities best left hidden; so he settled on grumbling, and watching the news, and enduring a discomfort that was nothing compared to the pain he had endured during the war in Heaven.

On the TV, a Japanese man dressed in electric blue samurai armor, his eyes shining crimson, spoke rapidly, the translation dubbed beneath it.

…he had so much to catch up on.

***

The next few days were a bit of a blur of activity; mercifully, the two tubes in his body were removed after only thirty-six hours, when he demonstrated he didn’t need them anymore. The process itself felt god-awful, but the relief he felt afterwards was worth the discomfort.

Lucas spent most of his time watching the news, reading the newspaper, or looking stuff up on the tablet the staff had so graciously provided for him. His first order of business had been to look up the twins, and he immediately wished he hadn’t. Not only were they famous, they were true stars. George even did underwear commercials; one had come on during a news segment about the Seattle gate, and Lucas had done his absolute best not to scream in horror at the mere idea of it. Thankfully Elizabeth only did perfume and sports equipment, sparing him of that particular brand of trauma.

He had found one word that made his throat clench and eyes screw shut for a full fifteen minutes, though. Orphans. Lucas hadn’t dug deeper than that. He wanted to hear it from them at this point.

Other things were not as simple. All the shows, movies, and series he’d followed were almost universally on hiatus, permanently cancelled, or just changed. He didn’t remember ninety percent of the stories he followed, only the most important ones. But TV now was also just different, sure there were old shows and movies that played but almost everything revolved around gates now. Magic item commercials were huge, as were ads for heroes, and superhero teams. It had only been five years since the world remembered magic, and everyone was still getting used to the change.

There were people who feared magic. People who worshipped it. Scientists who tried to study it, and everyone on the planet hoping they’d manifest it.

Lucas scowled a little as he swiped through the online forum of registered heroes he’d been browsing, trying to figure out the F to S-rank class system. To his eyes, someone with what he would consider S-rank powers based on clips and discussion on their abilities, may be ranked B or even C in the system. There was also that one S-class who was clearly overhyped; he’d just gotten lucky with a few power displays and gate disasters. The lower ranks were an even bigger mess; E to C class abilities and powers could vary wildly. There was no convenient measuring system besides a few magic stones that helped identify basic “power levels,” no numerical system to help identify, and people were largely guessing with where those with powers lie on the scale.

Lucas got that. He understood it. The ranking system was barely five years old and constantly being updated as they deepened their understanding of magic. But it made trying to guess how much of his own power to reveal a guessing game. The day was fast approaching he’d be tested for his magic, and he needed to figure this out quick. At least he had a baseline in Amanda Holt and her supposed d-rank healing powers.

“Lucas, what did I tell you about getting out of bed?” Said doctor chided as she walked into the hospital room. Lucas looked up from his position on the couch near the windows, where he’d been trying to get some sun. The golden rays felt good against his skin; the only natural thing he’d been able to experience the entire time he’d been in the hospital.

“Don’t remember, I wasn’t listening,” he said with a cheerful grin. Holt just shook her head at him, pointing at the bed, but he ignored her. “So, by the way, you know those superhero forums you advised me not to visit?”

“You didn’t,”

“I am sad to say I did. There are fanfictions of my siblings on here. I mean – just look at this,” Lucas scrolled back up the forum to find the hand-drawn picture of George and Elizabeth holding hands in a manner that was very clearly supposed to be interpreted as “more than siblings.” He dared not read the comments on that one. It also made him regret staying in heaven to help save the planet. Maybe it would have been better to let it crack in half and burn.

“I told you not to,” Holt said, crossing her arms but unable to hide her little, smug smile.

“You were right, but telling me not to do something is a surefire way to get me to do it,” he replied with a grin, setting the tablet to the side and folding his legs together. He grimaced as his muscles pulled oddly, still a little stiff from laying down for as long as he had. “Hey, did you know that people who take care of chickens are literally chicken tenders?”

Doctor Holt pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head.

“That was one of your worst ones yet,” she complained. Lucas cackled until his throat strained and he devolved into a coughing fit, all too happy to torment his captors – er, doctors – with puns. He had thousands of the things to hurl at his deserving victims; if he’d had to endure years stuck in a fortress under siege with Cu Chulainn, who loved puns more than life itself, he had the right to subject foolish mortals to that same pain. Once he got his coughing under control, Holt continued. “But unfortunately I am not here for a checkup or social call. I wanted to let you know that your siblings are out of the gate and are on their way.”

“Well that’s good news,” Lucas said, smile softening at the thought of seeing the two again. “I missed five years of their lives; I’m going to have to make it up to them by telling all the nurses and doctors about all their most embarrassing childhood stories. Have I told you about Elizabeth’s goth phase? She tried to dye her hair black but didn’t read the label right and dyed it lime green. I had pictures on my phone before, y’know,” he waved his hand airily. Gods, did he still have those pictures? What happened to his phone?

It’d been so long since he’d thought about all that. Good thing his soul remembered things differently than his silly mortal brain did, which was a very odd disconnect and probably why he was able to remember so much about his short time as a living human being. His mortal brain had fresh memories of his time as a human. His soul was much older. It was like having two sets of memories, one that was fresh, one that was…well, a little bit hidden, but no less fresh.

One thing he had learned quite deeply in the few days since returning was that events that struck the soul could be different than events that struck the mind.

“You didn’t hear anything I just said, did you?” Holt asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Hmm? No, of course I did! Just run it by me again if you don’t mind,” he grinned shamelessly, and the doctor set her hands on her hips. Her expression was decidedly serious, which simultaneously made Lucas wary and amused. His view on what was serious and not was probably very different than hers. No, not probably. Most decidedly.

“Like I just said, your siblings are coming back. It will be maybe twelve hours before they get here; last I heard they were boarding a plane. In the meantime, the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs, the BSA, is here. The laws are quite clear, even for one in your unique situation; you have to undergo a few tests to confirm your magic and enter the superhero registry.” She said blandly, expression completely blank. Lucas met her gaze equally blank. The government? Of course the government was involved. Lucas sighed and rest his face in his hands.

This was going to be an issue, wasn’t it? Well, how bad could it be. He’d fought beside myths and legends, and spoken with the gods themselves. What were a few mortals going to do?