Slumdog Hero

Serena checked her makeup and tousled her platinum blonde hair for the hundredth time, then studied her reflection in her locker mirror. A smile, a wink, and a small sigh followed.

Showtime.

She walked out of the locker room, dressed in a professional attire, looking more like an assistant than a hero. She made her way down the corridors and stood in front of a large door, the nameplate reading "Diamond Ace." Taking a moment to steel her nerves, she finally pushed open the door and entered.

Inside, a sleek office greeted her. Large windows overlooked the cityscape below, and in the center of the room was the striking figure of Luke Strickland, or Diamond Ace, as he was better known.

He was a handsome man, tall, with short brown hair and a face that seemed carved from marble. He wore a crisp black suit and a blue tie that complemented his hazel eyes. But his gaze held a coldness that was unnerving.

At the moment, he was seated behind his desk, engrossed in the contents of a thick dossier, its cover marked 'Top Secret'.

Serena introduced herself, feeling a bit out of place. "Hi, I'm—"

"Serena Holt," Luke cut her off, not even bothering to look up from his paperwork. His tone was curt and dismissive, making her feel even more uncomfortable. "Yes, I've been briefed."

Taken aback by his abruptness, she tried again. "Yes, that's me. But I'm also known as—"

"Glimmerstrike. I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are," Luke interrupted her again, his voice flat.

Serena's confidence faltered under his brusque attitude.

What is wrong with this guy?

After an uncomfortable pause, Luke finally looked up, fixing her with an unamused stare. "Why is Paragon's bumbling ingénue in my office?"

Serena frowned at the insult but chose not to dignify it with a response. Instead, she said, "Dr. Montoya Tanner, from Paragon Entertainment, said we're supposed to work together."

He sighed deeply, his brow furrowing as he closed the dossier and put it aside.

"Did she now?" he asked, sounding less than enthusiastic.

He then turned his chair and walked to the large windows that offered a panoramic view of the bustling cityscape below. For a moment, he simply looked out, hands clasped behind his back, a pensive look on his face. Serena stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do or say next.

"The agency is trying to play matchmaker, it seems," Luke finally broke the silence, his back still turned to her. "But let's face it, Serena. You're not exactly what I need or want."

"What?" Serena blurted out, taken aback by the harsh words.

Luke didn't even acknowledge her, continuing as if she hadn't spoken at all. "Your powers are flashy, sure, and your publicity is impressive, but you're not a fighter. You're not a tactician. You're not even particularly clever. What could I possibly gain from teaming up with you?"

She opened her mouth, a retort on the tip of her tongue, but she caught herself and held back. Angering him wasn't going to help. Besides, in a strange way, his bluntness was almost refreshing after the constant doublespeak from the agency and her manager.

"Look, I understand that we're in different leagues," Serena started, keeping her voice steady. "I'm not deluding myself. But that doesn't mean we can't work together. We're both superheroes. We have the same goal. We could... I don't know, brainstorm or something. We have to try, at least."

Luke's scoff was audible. "You're missing the point, Serena. The issue is not that we're in different leagues. The issue is that I'm the star player, and you're the mascot. How could the mascot ever contribute to the game?"

Serena's eyes widened at the comparison. Did he really just call her a mascot?

"Excuse me?" she shot back, her temper rising. "Did you just call me a mascot?"

Luke shrugged, indifferent to her reaction. "I'm just stating the obvious. Your role is to entertain, not to perform. You're not cut from the same cloth as the rest of us. You're here to sell merchandise and make kids cheer, not to save the world. You're a glorified celebrity, Serena. Nothing more."

"I'm not a mascot," Serena argued, her frustration building. "I've trained just like everyone else. I've fought, I've saved lives. I'm a hero, just like you."

"Are you, though?" Luke turned to face her, his eyes meeting hers. There was a challenge in his gaze, a hint of a dare. "When was the last time you went toe-to-toe with a real threat? When was the last time you faced a situation that genuinely tested your limits? Or have you spent the last couple of years sipping champagne at galas, signing autographs for screaming fans, and pretending that you're a hero?"

She clenched her fists at her sides, trying to keep her composure. But a part of her—the part that had been stifled and muted for years—was screaming to be heard. She felt the urge to lash out, to show him he was wrong, that she was more than a pretty face, but she held back. She wasn't going to let him bait her.

"I'm not pretending," she said firmly, holding his gaze. "I've done things, saved people. Maybe I'm not as experienced as you are, but that doesn't make me any less of a hero."

"Really?" he arched an eyebrow, stepping closer to her. "Then why is it that every time you cross paths with Axion, she beats you black and blue? Why is it that the media has dubbed you 'Axion's Punching Bag'? Why is it that no matter what you do, you can't seem to outsmart her, outmaneuver her, or even match her strength?"

"That's... that's," Serena faltered, his words hitting a raw nerve. She wanted to deny it, to find some excuse or justification, but she couldn't. He was right, and a part of her hated that. "I just—I just haven't found the right strategy yet. She's strong, but she's not unbeatable."

"Strategy?" Luke laughed, the sound devoid of any genuine amusement. "You really think it's a lack of strategy that's holding you back? Serena, open your eyes. You're in over your head. You're not ready to face the big leagues, and yet here you are, thinking you can play in them."

His words were like a slap in the face, but she refused to let him see how much they stung. Instead, she lifted her chin and met his gaze head-on.

"So what's your brilliant plan?" she retorted, her voice icy. "Stand here and insult me? Because that's really productive."

He let out another humorless laugh. "Oh, you'd love that, wouldn't you? For me to come up with a plan, do all the work, and then swoop in at the last minute to take the credit. Is that how you managed to get your position? By leeching off the hard work of others?"

"That's not—"

"Not what?" Luke interrupted, his voice rising. "Not true? You don't think I've done my research? You don't think I know all about the skeletons in your closet, Serena? Or should I say, the favors you called in to get to where you are today?"

"What are you talking about?" Serena's face paled, but she kept her expression neutral.

Everything she did to get where she was, was because she worked hard for it. The sacrifices, the compromises. She earned her spot at the top fair and square.

"Don't play dumb with me. You're just another entitled brat who got a free ride because of who you know," Luke snapped, turning his back on her and walking to his desk.

Serena stared back at him, her eyes narrowing. "How dare you! I worked my ass off to get where I am. I sacrificed everything—my privacy, my relationships, my entire life—to be a hero. And I won't let some egomaniac with a god complex slander my name like that!"

"Oh, is that so?" Luke sneered, reaching for a file on his desk. He pulled out a stack of papers and tossed them at her feet. "Then explain this. Explain how someone with your mediocre performance in training, your abysmal test scores, and your complete lack of combat experience managed to secure the top spot in the agency. How did you do it, Serena? With your sparkling personality? With your charming wit and your dazzling smile?"

What the hell was he talking about? Sure her performance metrics during her training period didn't exactly light the world on fire, but they weren't the worst either. She passed the evaluations, got her license, and then kept putting in the work after that. Didn't she?

She reached down, picked up the papers, and skimmed through them.

No... This can't be right. These numbers were faked. Her metrics weren't mediocre, they were downright abysmal.

Test Subject: S. Holt, Age: 18, Sex: Female

Evaluation:

- Tactical Awareness: Poor
- Threat Assessment: Below Average
- Critical Thinking: Below Average
- Social Intelligence: Mediocre
- Combat Skills: Poor
- Power Control: Below Average
- Physical Fitness: Mediocre
- Leadership: Poor
- Mental Resilience: Mediocre
- Decision-Making: Mediocre
- Adaptability: Below Average
- Situational Awareness: Poor
- Overall Heroic Aptitude: Unsuitable

Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt the blood drain from her face. "These aren't my scores. I never—I would never—"

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"Would never what?" Luke snapped, cutting her off. "Would never lie? Would never cheat? Because these papers tell a different story, Serena. They paint a picture of someone who's in way over her head, who's playing at being a hero when she should be a mascot."

No, seriously. These weren't the scores she remembered. These weren't even the scores Dr. Tanner printed out and showed her back in the day. Even now, she has that sheet of paper framed back at her apartment.

What the hell was going on? Someone had to have switched out the paperwork.

Was someone trying to frame her—wait, aside from Dr. Tanner and the other head honchos at the Institute, no one else would even have access to these things. Except...

"Vale," she murmured, her eyes widening in realization.

"What?" Luke asked, taken aback.

"Vale, my manager, or well, ex-manager, I guess," she explained, her voice barely more than a whisper. "He must have switched the scores. He's always trying to control everything in my life, dictating what I can and can't do. He got demoted a few days ago because I've had enough of his bullshit. He must've done this as a final 'fuck you' on his way out."

Luke stared at her incredulously. "You seriously expect me to believe that your manager forged your test scores and swapped them out just to spite you?"

"I have a physical copy of my test score at home. I know for a fact these aren't mine. Even if you don't believe me, we can call Dr. Tanner right now and she'll sort this mess out."

For once, she was happy that that sadistic woman existed. Dr. Tanner's memory was practically photographic. If anyone would remember, she would.

Luke looked at her skeptically but eventually caved in. "Fine. I'll give her a call. But if I find out you're lying, you're done. I'll make sure everyone knows you're a fraud, and I'll personally see to it that your career as a superhero is over."

Serena nodded, swallowing hard. "I understand."

She sat in tense silence as Luke placed the call to Dr. Tanner. After a few minutes of terse conversation, Luke ended the call and turned back to Serena.

"Well, it seems that your scores were indeed falsified," he admitted, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's a security issue. We'll have to investigate how this breach occurred. Tanner claims your actual scores, while still lacking, were much higher than the papers insinuate."

Serena sighed, a wave of relief washing over her. "Thank god. I knew I wasn't that bad."

"Still bad, but not that bad," Luke admitted grudgingly. "Listen, I won't apologize for what was said here today. You're still a novice. But I will say that I was wrong to accuse you of falsifying your test results."

"Thanks, I guess," Serena muttered, still feeling a bit shaken by the whole ordeal.

"Here's what's going to happen," Luke continued, his tone brisk. "You're going to put in the work. I'm talking intensive training, daily drills, combat simulations—the works. I'll be your mentor, your trainer, and your worst nightmare until you're up to snuff. And if you can't keep up, if you fall behind or show even the slightest hint of weakness, you're out. Understood?"

Serena stared at him, her eyes wide. "Seriously?"

"I'm not known for joking around," Luke said, his face impassive. "You have one chance to prove to me that you're more than just a mascot. And believe me, I'm not expecting much. So don't let me down."

She wanted to refuse, but there was no room for argument. It was either agree to his terms or give up on her career as a superhero.

"Okay," she finally said, her voice barely audible. "I'll do it."

He nodded, satisfied. "Good. Be at the training facility at 5 a.m. sharp tomorrow morning. And don't be late."

And with that, he dismissed her, turning back to his paperwork. Serena slowly walked out of the room, her head still spinning from the encounter. As the door shut behind her, she couldn't help but feel like she'd just made a deal with the devil.

"Okay, that went well."

"The Class A hero, Diamond Ace, known for his exemplary combat prowess and strong moral values, was commissioned to subdue the slum's rogue metahuman, Axion. In a display of camaraderie, Paragon Entertainment has teamed up Diamond Ace with their star superhero Glimmerstrike in their ongoing pursuit of this notorious Supervillain."

"Axion's killing of the late legendary Superhero, Prime, is widely perceived as an act of terrorism by the public. Our city's patrons question the Metropolitan Police Department's lackadaisical response and hold our community leaders accountable for allowing her actions to go unchecked in our city's derelict sector."

"In a live stream hosted by Diamond Ace yesterday, he openly declared, 'This lawless Supervillain shall not be left to her own devices any longer. Both Glimmerstrike and I will no longer stand by as she roams the slums with impunity. With a shared spirit, we now step in to restore justice and reassert the rule of law. No matter where you lurk in this city, nobody is beyond our reach.'"

"In the announcement, Paragon Entertainment urged the public not to engage in any activity that could endanger their lives or the lives of others and emphasized the importance of letting Diamond Ace and Glimmerstrike handle the situation. Glimmerstrike and Diamond Ace intend to post additional updates to their live channels detailing their progress, and have assured the public that the search for Axion is well underway. Viewership and support for both heroines have risen significantly following the announcement—"

Tweak paused the streaming video on her monitor and glanced over at Fii. "All I'm saying is they're ramping things up a notch, Fifi. Now, you've got not one, but two big-name Supers gunning for your ass."

Fii groaned as she sank deeper into the couch. "Yeah, because it was just getting too peaceful around here."

The mention of the upcoming double trouble evoked a deep sigh from her, prompting a playful chuckle from Tweak. "You really know how to attract all the right attention, don't ya?"

"Right?" Fii retorted sarcastically. "First Glimmerstrike, and now this Diamond Ace person? I don't want to fight other Supers. I don't want this to end up like it did with Prime."

"I hear you, girl. But on the bright side..." Tweak pointed at the news article on the monitor, "They're making you sound like a total badass."

Fii scoffed at the praise. "I'd much rather they didn't call me a 'Supervillain.' It's not like I'm running around doing bad things."

"They just have to make you out to be the villain. A rogue Super not under corporate control or registered with the city is a threat in their eyes."

"Well, they've got some seriously screwed up priorities."

"There's a lot to unpack when it comes to the relationship between superheroes and the authorities, but they're on a mission to paint you as evil and them as righteous. The best strategy against that is to keep doing what you're doing and show the world that you're the good guy. Hero. Whatever." Tweak gestured dramatically with her hands, adding a theatrical flair.

A smirk played on Fii's lips. "Says the anarchist who would probably be cheering at a headline reading, 'Massive Riot Engulfs Metropolis.'"

Tweak slapped a palm to her chest in faux indignation. "Anarchist? Me? Now, hold on. I might have a little anarchist inside me, but not for the sake of chaos. I want a world without corporate fat cats, exploitation, or systems that profit from injustice. Is that too much to ask?"

Fii chuckled. "You know I'm just kidding."

She lifted herself from the couch and moved behind Tweak, who was comfortably seated in a worn leather chair at her computer station. She gently rested her hands on Tweak's shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

Tweak tilted her head back to look up at her. "Aw, I know, Fifi. Just bustin' your chops."

Leaning over, Fii scanned the myriad of monitors sprawled across Tweak's desk. "What have you been up to while I was out?"

"Oh, you know, the usual stuff a sidekick does." Tweak clicked on a minimized window, unveiling a message board ablaze with comments. "Not everyone is buying into the news channels' propaganda, but that's nothing new. Most of the forums are torn in half. But on the upside, you've definitely got a passionate fanbase rallying behind you."

With a flourish, Tweak opened various forum topics in the background, each boasting countless threads and comments. The majority of them were named something like '#TeamHero' or '#Justice4Axion.'

"Most of your fans are trying to reverse the narrative. There's a hashtag campaign in full swing. The attention isn't as huge as what Paragon's heroines have going on, but there's still enough to generate a nice buzz."

Fii raised a brow. "Wait, why are people there siding with me?"

"Because apparently, Prime wasn't exactly as heroic as the corporations tried to make him out to be. The conspiracy theorists are out in droves, and they're all pretty active online. Look." Tweak turned back to the message board.

"See that user right there? 'Lonelyowl666?' That guy is a huge fan of yours, Fifi. Here, check out what he's posting," Tweak suggested. She then zoomed in on the user's thread.

"A lot of what Prime did never sat well with me. He claimed to be a protector of the innocent, yet he took it upon himself to judge, jury, and execute anyone he deemed 'unworthy.' Axion gave him a taste of his own medicine, and good on her."

"He wasn't the pinnacle of justice," read another. "We all remember that story. Someone calling herself Blue Impulse used to run with him. Their last days together weren't pretty."

"Prime was no saint. If it wasn't for this 'Axion' character, he would still be out there playing judge, jury, and executioner," a third user replied.

"Been wanting this guy dead ever since he killed my cousin."

Tweak glanced back at Fii. "There are dozens of these little rants," she said. "Those are just some of the highlights. Believe it or not, there are actually some pretty credible sources on this thread too. Look."

"Prime's policy wasn't law and order," wrote another. "It was intimidation, control, and submission. Those who opposed him were often found dead with their bodies mangled or ripped apart. He was a tyrant. Only a coward hides behind anonymity."

"That last one is a military veteran," Tweak added. "Or so he says. All those little thumbs-ups and hearts are other people who agree with him."

Fii grimaced, the memories of her encounter with Prime flashing vividly through her mind. "They're right about Prime, of course, but I'm not too thrilled about all this talk of... well, killing."

"Yeah, it's a bit, uh, intense," Tweak acknowledged with a grimace, scrolling further. "Here, look. Another big thread. The author is an investigative journalist who's trying to track down the Metropolis' darkest secrets. Or maybe they're just pretending to be one; who knows? Either way, you're trending like hotcakes."

Fii shook her head. "I don't know, Tweak. It's all just too... I don't even know how to describe it. Too much? It makes me uncomfortable."

Tweak patted Fii's hand. "Not surprising, honestly. After that initial confrontation between you and Glimmerstrike, I did some digging, and it turns out that quite a few people are comparing the situation between you and Prime to what's happening between you and Glimmerstrike."

"I just want Glimmerstrike to leave me alone, not dead. Heck, I'll even shake her hand if she does."

Tweak shrugged. "I can see how there are some similarities, but the fact that people are even debating this is a good sign. It means they're asking questions, and that's a start."

Fii took a deep breath. "So, what now?"

"We carry on, I guess? It looks like those hero chicks are determined to bring you down, so I'll do my best to keep tabs on them while you focus on the whole 'being a Superhero' thing. It's hard to say exactly where they'll turn up. Those corporate types keep their plans pretty tight-lipped, but I'll let you know as soon as something pops up on my radar."

Fii rubbed her forehead wearily. "It's just that... I don't want to fight them, but it seems like that's exactly what they're coming for."

"Just do your thing," Tweak said. "Fight for what's right, help those in need, and show them you're the good guy in all of this. Don't give them any reasons to go after you. Well, more than they already have, anyway. And if it does come to a fight, be a badass about it. I mean, if you had no problems kicking Prime's ass, then those corporate goons shouldn't be an issue, right?"

"I got really lucky back then," Fii admitted, the weight of memory heavy upon her. "He underestimated me and didn't expect my powers to work in the way they did. If I hadn't caught him off guard, things might not have turned out so well."

Tweak shrugged. "Don't undersell yourself, girl. You did what you had to do, and you came out on top. That counts for something."

"I suppose you're right, but it's still nerve-wracking."

"It'll all work out, Fifi," Tweak reassured her. "For now, just focus on doing what you do best."

"Fair enough," Fii conceded. "Thanks, Tweak."

"Anytime, babe," she said as she rotated back to her computer screens. "And on that note, why don't you go grab us some drinks. My throat's dry as hell."