January 1st, 9:01 AM
Calden Broadcasting Tower, Gotham City
“Good morning and Happy New Year, America!” said Amana, flashing the camera an award-winning smile. “Welcome to the first Morning Show of 2021 with Amana Snow—”
“And Kenny Beauford,” said her co-host, his teeth gleaming with no less intensity. “Gosh, doesn’t it always feel great to greet a new year, Amana? A chance to start fresh, make those new year's resolutions!”
Amana’s blue eyes darted over to her co-host, who was seated in a plush black chair identical to her own. “It sure does, Ken! But this isn’t just
any New Years! It’s the tenth anniversary of the end of the Two Month War!”
“Can you believe it’s been that long, Amy?” said Ken, his smile respectfully dulling. “I can’t. I remember holding my wife and children that New Years Eve, surrounded by countless other frightened families as we listened to the reports come in from Hub City.”
Amana nodded slowly. “We all do, Ken, and we all owe our thanks to both the brave men and women of our armed forces who fought and died to hold them back, and of course, the Seven Wonders of the World themselves, who drove the Three-Horned God back into the Shattered Scar.”
An image appeared behind them of the seven founding members of the Justice League—The Champion, Grim, Wonder Woman, Emerald Knight, Kraken, Velocity, and Masquerade—standing in front of battered, exhausted, yet ultimately smiling platoon of soldiers.
“All hope would have been lost without these brave heroes,” said Ken, turning in his chair to face the image. “And this was merely the first time they protected our nation—our very Earth—from otherworldly threats.”
The image shifted to the League battling a heavily muscled, orchid-coloured alien with a fin stretching across its otherwise bald head. It had a single, massive eye that took up both a portion of its forehead and the space where a human would normally have two. Beneath its broad and flat nose was a maw of razor sharp teeth.
“Who could forget Despero’s attack in 2013?” said Amana. “Or when Velocity and Kraken teamed up to force the monstrous B.O.B. back into the sea?”
Images and short video footage of the heroes clashing with various villains over the past decade were now playing silently behind them, moving from right to left in a scrolling montage.
“Yes, the Justice League has undoubtedly done much for humanity,” said Amana. “Some of you may remember the chaos before they had banded together, with police unsure who was friend or foe as others with powers flooded the street. Now the Nation is undoubtedly in favor of these masked crusaders, from our champions in the Justice Station, to your own neighborhood guardians.”
Behind Amana and Ken, the images merrily scrolling along changed from the familiar seven wonders to a slew of other heroes in masks. Some were known through the country and were easily recognizable, others were only cheered in the homes of small neighborhoods that they protected.
“It’s undeniable that they’ve made great strides towards helping us rebuild since the war,” said Amana, smiling softly, “but we still have a long way to go before the America we grew up with can be reclaimed for our children, and our children’s children.”
Ken nodded in the direction of the screen behind them, which was still cycling through its inexhaustible list of heroic imagery. “Thankfully, we have no shortage of those who are brave enough and willing enough to step up to help their fellow man. Here to discuss more of our Nation’s heroes and their influence is renowned Hero Journalist Jenna Justice…”
January 1st, 9:11 AM
Times Square, New York City
“Thanks for having me on the show, guys! So, as you know I recently wrote an article on…”
The voice of Jenna Justice flooded Times Square from the broadcast dozens of feet in the air, proudly showing the Morning Special to the crowds. Though it was accompanied by the blaring of car horns and the general murmur of New York City, it came across clear to the occupants of the Square.
“Pfft,” scoffed Morena. “I doubt that’s even her real last name.”
What drivel these humans watched. Inane and baseless idealism tailored to convince them that their society wasn’t still teetering on the edge of oblivion. Still, they were better off then folks like herself and poor Atena, who couldn’t even buy the meds she needed.
Staring down at the Digoxin in her talons, she was unable to help baring her fangs.
Without this medication, Atena would die, and she couldn’t even get it on her own due to her
appearance. But did any human care? No. Even these so-called “heroes” only looked out for their own. What did it matter to them if another “monster” perished?
But this wasn’t the place to wax poetic about the injustices she and her people suffered. The longer Morena was in a
human neighborhood, the more danger she was in of being harassed.
“HEROES!!” The voice shouting rose above even the general loudness that permeated most of New York, as loud and screeching as any of Morena’s species. “DEMONS IN DISGUISE! We have invited the DEVIL into our homes by accepting this witchcraft! Lucifer has his champions, and we praise them as gods! METAHUMANS ARE HERALDS OF THE END!”
Morena pulled the hood of her cloak down over her face, her lips twisted into a scowl. She didn’t exactly care for metahumans—or any kind of humans—herself, but this man was clearly beyond the reach of sanity. His clothes were ragged and what little greying hair he had left whipped violently in the wind in thin strands.
Shaking her head, she turned away from the pathetic scene and started pushing her way through the crowd. She needed to get back home with Atena’s medicine.
Only to suddenly be wrenched around.
“You all turn from me but it is the truth! By turning your back on the truth you walk into the arms of the devil and his ilk!” The man was shouting at her now, eyes wild and breath laboured with a surprisingly tight grip on Morena’s arm. “Even now regular humans outnumber these magicians, but we are regarded as little more than cattle! While monsters lurk at our borders, in our very-”
The man inhaled sharply, those eyes that once flicked and almost rolled in a sunken skull focusing on the hint of feathers peeking out of her cloak.
“MONSTER!” He roared, spittle flying from his mouth as he jerked his hand away as though burned.
Morena screeched sharply when he jerked his hand away, tearing her cloak from her shoulders and exposing her wings and talons to the crowd, most of whom looked on in startled shock. Baring her fangs at the lunatic in a warning gesture, she expanded the crest on her head in an intimidation display.
Reaching down to snatch her cloak off the ground she threw it over herself again and began pushing her way through the crowd—a rather easy feat, given their sudden eagerness to avoid her.
Wonderful. This was just the perfect topping to her shit salad of a day.
Leaving Times Square behind her, she relished the diminishment of the city’s ambiance. She never liked large crowds, even before she came to this world, the home of her ancestors. But while most people continued to avoid her, she couldn’t help noticing one man trailing her from a distance.
Well, it didn’t matter, Morena supposed. She was almost home.
Simple Unicycle
Alfhedil
