Bubble Boy

EXT. CITY – NIGHT TO DAY – OVER THE MONTH

It started small.

A mugging in an alley. Bubble Boy floated down, wrapped the attacker in shimmering orbs, and walked the victim home.

A hostage crisis. He stepped into the room unarmed, shielding civilians with floating domes until the gunmen surrendered.

A collapsing bridge. He didn't fly under it, he filled the gap with bubbles until everyone was safe.

Day by day, hour by hour, he was everywhere.

Helping. Saving. Smiling.

The Legion followed his lead. No more fear. No more death.

Montage...

Bubble Boy catching a falling school bus with a giant bubble.

Garden Girl regrowing a park destroyed by war.

Eden mentoring younger heroes in Legion Tower.

Psion, Inferno, Umbra, Gladiator, Seaman, teaching self-defense at a community center.

Bolt and Construct building shelters with the city's youth.

Void standing guard in the rain, her light cutting through darkness.

News Reports:

"Crime is down 950% in Bubble City…"

"Children are dressing up as Bubble Boy instead of Starman this Halloween…"

"People believe again…"

INT. LEGION TOWER – NIGHT

Troy sat at the edge of the rooftop, watching the city lights.

Annie joined him, her hand slipping into his.

"We did it," she said.

"No," he replied. "We're just getting started."

TEN YEARS LATER

EXT. PARK – SUNNY DAY

Laughter. Peace. Families.

Troy walked hand in hand with Annie. On his shoulders, Zoe, 7, her curly hair tied with a bubble-shaped pin.

"Daddy, fly!" she giggled.

Troy smiled and floated up a few feet, spinning gently.

Nearby, Jackson and Emily wrangled their energetic twins, Jack and Jill, both 8, with firecracker powers and telekinetic mischief.

Carter and Alexa laughed with their children, Amy, 7, full of radiant light, and Max, 5, hiding in shadows and jumping out to scare people.

Eidolon and Kaia walked with their son, Jason, 8, with a warrior spirit.

Sam, Lily, and Ethan, now teenagers in Nightingale uniforms, ran by, practicing powers and bickering like siblings.

And in the distance…

Isabella, now a judge, presided over a peaceful court, still blushing when she saw Troy on TV.

DEEP SPACE – UNKNOWN SECTOR

A shadow floated near a black hole.

Starman, bearded, scars covering his face, hollow-eyed, hair overgrown over his eyes, his red cape torn and drifting in solar wind.

He hovered at the edge of oblivion, arms outstretched.

"I have nothing left… I'm not a symbol. I'm a curse. My son had to kill because I failed."

The black hole pulsed.

Then, a spotlight.

A ship descended, sleek and quiet.

Jace stepped out.

"Sorry to interrupt your self-pity," he said, grinning.

Starman didn't turn.

"You don't understand…"

"No. You don't. I'm not here to lecture you."

Jace extended a hand.

"I'm here to show you something."

The ship opened.

Starman hesitated.

Then slowly, silently…

He followed him inside.

INT. JACE'S SHIP – OVER EARTH – NIGHT

The ship descended silently through clouds. Lights twinkled below, New York City, present day. No alien towers, no sky cruisers. Just taxis, brownstones, and steam rising from subway grates.

Starman stood at the window, eyes wide.

Children played in the park. Vendors sold bubble-shaped cotton candy. Murals of Troy and the Legion lined brick walls, surrounded by flowers, thank-you notes, and birthday cards.

No signs of fear.

Only peace.

Jace stood beside him. "He didn't take over. He didn't punish. He protected. That's the difference."

Starman clenched his jaw. "I tried. I just wanted to keep people safe."

Jace didn't answer.

He tapped the console.

The ship blinked forward, not in time, but across the city. It hovered over a modest community center. Inside, dozens of grieving families gathered in a circle.

Candles. Photographs. Silence.

Fathers. Mothers. Children.

A woman held a photo of a man in a ski mask a villain, once. But also a father, now gone.

"He was stealing to pay rent," she whispered. "Starman didn't ask. He just…"

She broke.

A boy barely twelve clutched his brother's hoodie. "He ran. He was scared. Starman shot him in the back."

Jace muted the feed. "You never looked at the aftermath, did you?"

Starman's shoulders sagged.

More images:

A man sobbing on a sidewalk beside scorched rubble.

A young girl placing a flower on an empty grave.

A crowd protesting in the rain, signs reading "No One Above Consequence" and "We Deserved Justice, Not Judgment."

And worse…

The eyes.

Dozens of them. From every screen. Filled with hate.

Hate for the man who broke their world to save his image.

Starman backed away from the glass. "I didn't know. I never..."

"But you should've," Jace cut in. "Because they did. Every time they begged. Every time you ignored the little people to fight gods."

Jace stepped closer.

"You were never evil. You were proud. And that pride hurt more people than any villain."

Starman swallowed hard. His voice trembled.

"Then what do I do now?"

Jace stared at him for a long beat.

"You change."

Starman looked out the window again. The city pulsed with hope.

"But not just in here," Jace said, tapping his chest. "Out there. Every day. Not as a god. As a man."

Silence.

Then Starman lowered his head.

"…Show me where to start."