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Chapter 37
by
micdan282
What's next?
Revelation
The silence that followed The Supplier’s revelation was heavy, broken only by the hum of the server racks and the rhythmic whir of the 3D printer. He watched her, waiting for the break. He expected tears. He expected her to scream in denial or slump over in defeat, crushed by the weight of her violation. Instead, Rikki let out a breath she felt like she’d been holding for weeks. Her shoulders dropped. The tension in her jaw unspooled. She looked up at him, and for the first time since the "accident" in the alley, her eyes weren't cloudy with confusion or shame. They were clear and sharp.
"You..." she started, her voice raspy but steady. "You think telling me that is supposed to break me?"
The Supplier paused, his head tilting slightly. "It should. You’re a puppet, Rikki. You have no agency. You’re nothing."
"No," Rikki said, a dry, jagged laugh bubbling up from her chest. "You arrogant prick. You just set me free."
She pulled against the restraints, sitting up straighter.
"I thought I was weak," she said, her voice gaining strength. "I thought I had gone insane. I hated myself."
She looked at him, and her lips curled into a fierce, dangerous smile.
"But it wasn't me. It was you. Yes I've made mistakes but I can learn from them. I can grow.”
The self-loathing that had been drowning her evaporated, in its place, a cold, focused rage ignited.
The Supplier stepped back, unnerved by the shift in her demeanor. "Your psychology is irrelevant. I still control your physiology. I could have you on all fours sucking me off for hours if I wanted to slut.” The Supplier pulled the tablet out and began typing a command into it.
Rikki closed her eyes, blocking out the Supplier and focussing on herself. Nanobots, that's how he was doing this. She turned her senses inward. Her mother had taught her that sound wasn't just noise; it was vibration. Everything in the universe vibrated. Atoms, glass, concrete and metal.
Most people believed her sound powers only worked outward, that she could project, shatter, silence, deafen. But she could also turn them inward. She sent vibrations throughout her body, trying different frequencies until finally she found them, the nanobots and the exact pitch for them to vibrate and shatter. It wasn't a scream. It was a weapon and it was vibrating her entire body.
The vibrations were agonizing. It felt like she was gargling broken glass. The vibration tore through her own throat, vibrating her teeth, rattling her skull. But the effect was instant. Inside Rikki’s veins, she felt a burning sensation, like carbonation bubbling violently under her skin. It hurt, a searing heat as the nanobots vibrated, shattered, and dissolved into inert microscopic scrap. But it was a good pain. It was the pain of a fever breaking.
"System error," The Supplier muttered, frustration creeping into his synthesized voice. "Why aren't you responding? I'm sending the command."
Rikki snapped her eyes open. She didn't look at The Supplier; she looked through him, visualizing the millions of tiny machines swarming in his blood, identical to the ones in hers. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs to capacity. She opened her mouth and unleashed a sound that was barely audible to the human ear. It wasn't a roar but a piercing, ultra-high-frequency screech, perfectly pitched to destroy the nanobots. The effect was instantaneous.
The Supplier dropped the tablet. He clapped his hands over his ears, arching his back as a scream of his own tore through his voice modulator. He’d relied on the nanobots for his strength, his healing and his interface. Sparks erupted from his silver mask. He fell to his knees, clawing at his face, throwing the mask aside.
"Stop!" he shrieked but Rikki pushed harder. She pushed the frequency higher, louder, turning her voice into a sonic drill.
CRACK.
The glass of the 3D printer shattered. The lights overhead blew out, showering them in sparks. And finally, the restraints holding Rikki’s wrists, controlled by the same electronic network, short-circuited. The locks disengaged with a dull clunk. Rikki cut the scream abruptly.
What's next?
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Perils of a Novice Superheroine
A generic superheroing setting drenched with sex and scandal
Acropolis City, the center of super-human and caped crusader activity in this particular world - with its own dizzying highs and lows, high-tech skylines and slums standing in stark, four-color contrast, it provided everything that a costumed megalomaniac or masked vigilante could ask for. In fact, as is usually the case where colorful masked characters are the norm, it has become something of an institution by this point. But although the mere existence of costumed heroes and villains no longer shocks people, these people - who, by their very nature, thrive on attention - keep finding new ways to stand out from the crowd and attract the eye. This last goal tends to get a lot of emphasis in the most simple, sexualized way possible. For reasons that the world's most brilliant scientists have yet to explain, latent super-abilities seem to manifest more often in women than men by a ratio of 3 to 1 or more. This is true even when the superpower isn't "natural"; paranormal artifacts fall into their hands, esoteric martial arts schools never seem to have a male heir, the technological prototypes they test always seem to be the ones that are most easily used or abused for good and evil. Unfortunately, the glory days of the past where citizens were happy to see any old masked do-gooder show up are over - in recent years, Acropolis City has established a ranking system of heroes where those who get high marks from the citizens and resolve incidents are rewarded with corporate sponsorships and (most coveted of all) seats at the prestigious League of Propriety. Those who intimidate the populace, cause excessive collateral damage, or simply don't excite anyone, garnering low rankings, get 'asked' to move to less prestigious cities. Few superheroes want to get stuck battling clans of villainous hillbillies and corrupt small-town sheriffs for the rest of their careers, so they're always eager to please the influential citizens of Acropolis City (judges, eminent scientists, first responders, and of course the all-important reporters). On the other side of the law, a similar dynamic predominates; only the most glamorous and charismatic costumed ne'er-do-wells can make it in this town. And so, the novice superheroines just learning the ways of battling for justice and order, without any team to back them up, always end up patrolling the skeeviest, most undesirable slums of the city and taking on the most thankless rescues. As if that weren't bad enough, most of them feel obliged to dress in ways that get more outlandish and revealing with every passing year while they fight the good fight and/or feed their craving for attention, depending on how you see the 'cape life'. As if that weren't troublesome enough, the superhuman mutations that make so many of these heroes' careers possible also result in greatly increased sexual sensitivity, particularly in females. The adventures and misadventures that these spandex-clad lady crusaders get into are often too hot to print for the kind of comics that their young admirers would read. Messy mistakes will be made, but you don't want to disappoint your readers, do you? So let the League know what kind of superheroine you are, your chosen name, powers, and appearance, and they'll send you out on your first patrols. Good luck.
Updated on Dec 27, 2025
by micdan282
Created on Nov 30, 2016
by fyreant
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