The city of New Haven, California, never really slept. Even from this high up, Jackie Griffin could hear it breathing. Traffic murmured like a restless ocean, sirens echoed somewhere in the distance, and lights spilled between buildings in endless grids of color.
Jackie sat on the edge of a massive skyscraper, legs dangling freely over open air. Brown work boots, worn but sturdy, rested against nothing at all. Black jeans hugged his legs, and a white tank top clung to his lean, muscular frame. Over it all, his light brown trench coat rippled in the wind, the fabric snapping softly behind him like it was eager to take flight. A simple black eye mask sat pushed up on his forehead for now, just above sharp, attentive eyes. His messy, short brown hair refused to behave no matter how much the wind tried to flatten it.
He held his phone to his ear, tone relaxed.
"Aunt Ira, I'm okay," Jackie said. "You don't have to worry so much."
On the other end of the line came a sigh. Not sharp. Not angry. Just heavy with concern. "You're on a rooftop again, aren't you?"
Jackie smiled faintly and glanced down at the street far below. "Technically, yes."
"You should be out looking for a real job," she said gently. "Something with benefits. Something that doesn't involve such… uncertainty."
"This is what I want," Jackie replied. "I love it."
"I know you do," she said. "But wanting something doesn't always mean it's practical. There are a million superheroes in the world now. Agencies, organizations, and whole teams with funding and branding. Maybe thirty years ago you'd have stood out. Now it's harder than ever to make a name for yourself."
Jackie leaned back on his hands, eyes scanning the skyline. "I've thought about that. A lot."
"You're smart," she continued. "You've always been smart. You could be doing so much more with that big brain of yours."
He shifted, sitting up straighter. "Aunt Ira. I know. I know you're worried about me. And I appreciate it. Really. But I'm willing to take the risk."
There was silence for a moment.
"I worked hard for my hero license," Jackie said. "I didn't get it by accident. If a year or two go by and nothing comes of this, or if it becomes too much, then maybe I'll take your advice. But for now? I want to try. I need to."
Another sigh came through the phone, softer this time. "You're a foolish boy."
Jackie chuckled. "Yeah. I've heard."
"That's what I love about you," she said. "Just promise me you'll be careful."
"I promise."
The call ended. Jackie lowered the phone and stared at it for a second before slipping it into his coat pocket. He exhaled slowly, shoulders relaxing.
"I'll make this work," he said quietly. "I've got the strength. I just need the opportunity."
He stood and stepped closer to the edge, toes right at the drop. With practiced ease, he slipped an earbud into his left ear and started up some soft rock, the music blending with the city's distant hum. He pulled his black eye mask down into place, the world narrowing just enough to sharpen his focus.
Jackie looked out over New Haven and called out, "Come on, opportunity. Pop up and help a dude out."
Almost on cue, the ground below trembled. A violent explosion tore through the street several blocks down, fire and smoke surging upward as car alarms wailed.
Jackie's eyes widened, then he smiled. "Well," he said casually, "thanks, universe."
He adjusted his coat, shoved his hands into the pockets, and took a step forward.
"You won't regret it."
Then Jackie Griffin walked off the skyscraper and fell toward his chance to prove it.
Jackie cut through the air like a falling star and slammed into the street feet-first. His knees bent on instinct, boots cracking asphalt as the impact sent a shockwave rippling outward. Chunks of pavement jumped. Smoke and dust burst up around him, hot and sharp, stinging his nose even through the mask. Jackie stayed low for half a second, letting the ground finish trembling beneath him.
When the dust started to thin, he straightened.
Several meters away stood a wall of muscle and gray-blue skin. A humanoid shark, easily over eight feet tall, with shoulders wide enough to block a lane of traffic. Thick arms. Jagged teeth are visible even with his mouth closed. In his right hand, Hammerhead, as he normally goes by, casually held a massive steel safe, its hinges bent and sparking like they'd given up a long time ago.
Jackie recognized him immediately. Hard not to. The guy made the news every few months. Banks. Armored trucks. Anything with thick walls and thicker insurance. Always destructive. Always loud.
"Well," Jackie said, brushing dust off his trench coat, "never expected to meet you in the field."
He pointed his thumb over his shoulder at the ruined street behind him. Flames licked at the remains of something that looked like an oil tanker; twisted metal was scattered across the road. "I guess you're the reason half the block looks like it just lost a fight with a meteor. Am I onto something?"
Hammerhead's small eyes narrowed. His voice rolled out deep and wet, like rocks grinding underwater. "And I guess that you're a dead man."
He didn't wait.
Hammerhead reached down, ripped a parked car clean off the street, and hurled it. The thing screamed through the air, spinning end over end with terrifying speed.
Jackie barely had to think. He dipped low and stepped forward, the car roaring just above his head. Wind ripped at his hair as it passed. A heartbeat later, it slammed into the side of a building behind him, exploding into glass and metal with a sound like thunder.
Jackie glanced back at the wreckage. Then he looked at Hammerhead.
One eyebrow rose beneath the eye mask. A smirk tugged at his mouth.
"Y'know," he said, rolling his shoulders loose, "you should seriously consider quitting the crime bullshit."
Hammerhead snarled, tightening his grip on the safe.
Jackie pointed at him. "Baseball. I'm telling you. You've got one hell of a pitching arm."
The shark man roared and charged.
Jackie's grin widened just a little as he shifted his stance.
Finally. An opportunity.
Before Jackie could move, the smoke billowing from the ruptured oil tanker shifted. Something solid stepped through it.
Jackie recognized the silhouette immediately. Broad shoulders. Thick plating. A walking slab of metal wrapped around a human frame.
His name is Heavy Metal. He's a rather hulking man, his legs and torso covered in bright red spandex and also sporting large black shoulder pads.
They'd crossed paths a handful of times already, usually in situations like this. Loud and very chaotic ones, that is.
Heavy Metal bent his knees and launched himself forward, clearing the wreckage in a single leap almost naturally. He hit the street beside Jackie with a heavy clang, asphalt cracking under the weight. The metal hero straightened and glanced sideways at him.
"Man," Heavy Metal said, voice echoing faintly through his helmet, "how long's it been since we last crossed like this?"
He paused. Tilted his head.
"… Hey. What was your name again?"
Jackie stared at him for a second, then sighed. "Knockout Star."
"Right. Knockout Star." Heavy Metal snapped his fingers against his palm like that helped. "We gotta stop meeting like this."
"Starting to feel intentional," Jackie said.
Heavy Metal nodded, then jerked a thumb back toward the smoking tanker. "I was brawling with Hammerhead before you dropped in. Knocked him straight into that thing."
Jackie's eyes flicked to the wreckage. "Is anybody hurt?"
"Thankfully no," Heavy Metal said. "Most people booked it once things got ugly. The tanker was empty too."
Jackie nodded. "Good."
A loud, irritated throat-clearing cut through the moment.
Hammerhead stood a short distance away, safe still clenched in one massive hand. He pointed a thumb behind himself as he started to turn. "You birds can keep chirping. I'll just excuse myself from the conversation."
Heavy Metal shifted, metal plates grinding softly. "There's not a shot in hell you walk away from this without cuffs."
Hammerhead sighed like he was deeply inconvenienced. He reached down, grabbed another car, and hurled it toward them with brutal force.
Jackie and Heavy Metal moved at the same time. They vaulted clean over the incoming car, its shadow flashing beneath them, and landed hard on the other side as it smashed into the street behind them.
They straightened and exchanged a quick look.
"Wanna take him down as a pair?" Jackie asked casually.
Heavy Metal hesitated. "I usually like things fair. Two-on-one's not my style."
He eyed Hammerhead, muscles bulging under thick hide. "But he's got skin like concrete, and he's yolked as all hell. Seems fair enough."
Jackie cracked his knuckles. "My thoughts exactly."
They turned together, facing Hammerhead as the shark man lowered his stance, muscles coiling, ready to explode forward.