Report 01: Loran

  Time: 07:30

  Location: Celestine Ward

  Date: June 10th, XXXX

  Mondays.

  A day many of us dread.

  Sure, it signifies the start of the week, a new beginning per se, but we all let out a large sigh for that reason. Not only does it mean the new week has begun, but it also means the relaxing weekend has ended as if it were nothing more than a fleeting dream.

  Rinse.

  Dry.

  Repeat.

  That’s the life of the “ordinary” working folk.

  I stand at the train station platform on this sleepy yet bustling morning. A gust of wind blows through the tunnels, indicating the proximity of the next train, which can be felt through the platform screens, which exist to prevent any incidents. The sign at the platform flashes a light blue, telling those waiting which line the train is on. After all, the station was a standard transfer station for three different lines in Loran.

  “10-car, three-door train for the Blue Line arriving at Celestine Ward-“

  I hear the automated announcement blasting through the speaker as clear as day despite having my black earbuds jammed into their respective canals blasting some random music from one of those feel-good, energetic mixes you can find in the recommended section of any given music application. However, the mix is doing its job, waking my sleep-deprived and operating on six hours of sleep self. It was better than what a typical college student like myself was getting, but it was also my fault for doom-scrolling social media the night before.

  The train pulls up to the platform, and the doors open, releasing a wave of passengers who’ve embarked on the vessel at earlier stations while welcoming the new group onto it. My only complaint would be how many people I had bumped my shoulders with before I could get my stinky foot through the automatic cabin doors. They say going with the flow helps minimize such contact like some algorithm, but I say that’s bogus. It’s almost as bad as trying to predict the stock market.

  I situate myself on one of the cabin walls, clutching my trusty, beat-up black backpack that’s served me well the last few years of academia in front of my chest. I scan my surroundings for any suspicious activity, something that’s become second nature after living in Loran all my life. Being a city with a population of nearly 20 million people and probably another seven to eight due to tourism, you’re bound to get some good and bad apples. And while I’m telling you this, someone just got their wallet stolen at the end of the car.

  I thought I would go over there and help until I saw what happened next. It was subtle, but I could’ve sworn I saw a bracelet from the lady standing up against the door of the adjacent car fall off her wrist and into the thief’s hands without making any physical contact.

  Of course, it just had to be a thief with Powers.

  I was no Good Samaritan, and it was better for me to keep my head down instead of extending my neck like that. It wasn’t my business; that guy would pay his dues sooner or later.

  I glanced over my shoulder and found that the train had emerged from underground, moving steadily along the floating railway crossing the city stories above street level. The endless sea of steel sky scrappers passes my eyes as I fixate my gaze on the sleek white cylindrical body of the train through the reflections before faintly seeing my own.

  It was an appearance that didn’t scream model or superstar but was good enough to get by without being bullied. Black hair lightly gelled in a presentable manner, cheap navy-plastic-framed glasses resting on the bridge of my nose in front of my eye bags that were a shade darker than my sandy beige skin, and light brown eyes hanging under them, a clear sign of someone of mixed heritage.

  However, this face I wore was nothing more than a “facade.”

  The train then passes by a gap between the buildings. A green pillar of light about ten stories in height can be seen. Within that pillar, explosions of flames can be seen, with two figures darting between the walls of the pillar.

  Suddenly, I felt my body press against the cabin windows. Two rows from me, a kid placed his hands against the glass. His eyes sparkled as he watched the explosions in the distance. I was once like that kid, a ball full of curiosity, but after a while, you realize these things are relatively frequent.

  Then, on another part of the train, a woman shouts, “Look! It’s Gale! He’s flying right next to us!”

  More heads turn upon hearing the woman’s voice. I tried not to pay attention, but it was unavoidable not to gaze at a grown man wearing his dark blue underwear outside his light blue skin-tight latex suit with a cereal box cartoon drawing of the wind pasted on his chest circling the train. Don’t get me wrong, I understand people’s admiration for these individuals, but I can’t take them seriously, considering how comically bad their suit design was.

  If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  >>>

  If you haven’t guessed by now, this is a world full of Heroes and Villains. It is a world where specific individuals are blessed with Powers, and the melting pot of all of that is this glorious seaside city of Loran, which occupies a good percent of the entire Eastern Coastline, spanning nearly thirty miles long and ten in width.

  That’s not important, though; what matters is that Powers exist.

  Powers, short for Superpowers, are special abilities that one day came out of the blue around a hundred years ago. These Powers grant people capabilities that surpass human limits: super strength, telekinesis, flight, pyromancy, etc. You think it, name it, someone out there probably has one or more of those Powers. Additionally, Powers have been proven not to be genetic, and anyone can one day wake up with them. Hence, many ordinary people dream of receiving Powers. Of course, with these Powers comes great responsibility, and from there, we begin to see the arrival of the first Heroes and Villains.

  As the name suggests, Heroes are individuals registered under the Heroic Coalition who are part of the “lawful good” group—Defenders of Justice, Saviors, Good Guys, etc. Villains, on the other hand, are said to be on the complete opposite end of the spectrum, the “evildoers,” as society deems them, causing chaos and ruining the peace of the people residing in Loran. Another group that falls in between is Vigilantes, who believe the ideals of Heroic Coalition are inadequate to end crime and take on the dirty work Heroes won’t do, but their situation is way more complicated.

  Finally, those who don’t possess Powers are known as Ordinaries. These individuals go about daily life without getting involved in the Hero-Villain shenanigans and hold regular jobs such as clerks, writers, accountants, programmers, etc. You can say they’re the small cogs of a giant machine.

  While I would like to claim I am part of this group, my case can be considered a bit special.

  The cabin bell chimes as the train pulls into the station.

  >>>

  “Arriving at Dawner’s Road Station. Dawner’s Road Station. This is a Blue Line train to-”

  It was my stop.

  Following the crowd, I leave my cozy position from the cabin window. My backpack once again slung behind me. I exit the cabin, scanning for the nearest escalator while letting my body naturally follow everyone else like sheep led by a shepherd. My eyes draw over to an arrow pointing straight ahead, indicating I was going in the right direction.

  I take my first step on the escalator, my foot rising as the step emerges from the ground. The sudden movement threw my balance off, forcing me to clutch onto the railing beside me.

  “Geez,” I muttered while the moving staircase progressively reached the surface. “Can never get the timing right, can I?”

  I turn my wrist towards my face, the screen of my smartwatch flicking on, displaying the time.

  7:50.

  There were still forty minutes before I started.

  Right on schedule.

  As the professionals say: “To be early is to be on time. To be on time is to be late. To be late is to be forgotten.”

  I tap my phone against the gate’s scanner, paying for my short fare on the train. The plastic panels open up, allowing me to exit the station’s premises. Sunlight peeks between the glorious glass and steel buildings towering over the bustling streets below. The sound of explosions, sonic booms, camera shutters, and cheers can be heard, making my body sway.

  A majestic figure, clad in all white with a golden sun-like halo above his head, hovered in the sky. His smile was so radiant as he held a defeated Villain who was burnt and battered to a crisp in one hand and waved to the cheering onlookers below.

  Another typical occurrence here in the city.

  As such, I paid no mind to him and continued my life. The crosswalk sign changed from red to white, and my shoes made contact with the cold asphalt, a slight sound in this bustling city of Loran. An insignificant speck of dust compared to the shining stars in the sky, that’s who I was. A bystander, a spectator viewing life behind a lens, nothing more or less. That’s the role I play in this world of Heroes and Villains.

  I pick up the pace, phone in hand, as I scroll the news. The headlines from each outlet are so large that they pop out of my screen, with ones I saw a few seconds prior immediately being replaced with others.

  “Breaking News: 5-Star Hero, Orpheus, Donates Half of His Earnings to Charity.”

  “The end of the Hounds?! Villain Organization’s Plans Thwarted by Rising Hero, Peony Pops!”

  “The Disappearance of 10-Star Villain, Comet! How the Villain and His Organization, Cardinal, Toppled Loran in 5 years!”

  “Starlight Parade! 7 Years Since Starlight Prince Destroyed Enders Meteorite!”

  “Psh,” I snicker. “Who needs comedians when you have these ridiculous headlines.”

  A text appears in my view.

  Its sender was a guy named “Leech.”

  Terrible name?

  Yeah, I know.

  The sender named “Leech” message was something I anticipated, and almost exactly as I predicted.

  Leech: Big O! Dinner plans still on after work?

  Big_O: Only if you pay this time.

  Leech: Um, about that…

  Big _O: You owe me 200.

  Leech: You’re as bad as my mom! Keeping tabs on me!

  Big_O: You are the debtor; I am the creditor. I demand fud.

  Leech: Man, I was hoping to get out of this!

  I roll my eyes and chuckle, watching “Leech” trying to weasel his way out of responsibility for his loss.

  Leech: Hey! It’s your first day on site?!

  Big_O: Switching topic, aren’t you-

  Leech: I can cause I’m unemployed :P

  Big_O: ( -_- ) Find a job then…

  Leech: I’ve trieeeeeeddddd but you know how difficult things are for us Ordinaries!!!

  Big_O: Poor excuse.

  Leech: Fine, I’ll get back to those apps. I’ll call ya when ya shift ends.

  Big_O: Sounds good. C u then!

  I press the side button on my phone, watching its screen go dark. A faint reflection of my face is visible from behind the tempered glass screen protector. I wipe the fingerprints off with the back of my sleeve and smile. The peak of one of the many buildings in Loran’s skyline could be seen only a few feet before me.

  To other city residents, this building was as typical as any other. To me, it was my dream. A place with only a 0.8% acceptance rate, it was one of the most trusted sources of information to the public. This all-glass tower looming over me belonged to no other than the Hero News Network, HNN, the top news network here in Loran.

  I take a deep breath, my body trembling with excitement as I embark on a new chapter in my life.

  “You got this, Owen Parkis!”