Hero-breeder; or Fathering 100 Superheroes in One Year

You are Lucas Smith, a perfectly normal eighteen-year-old high school senior living in Star Haven City. Your life is remarkably average. Your biggest worries usually involve passing calculus and figuring out how to talk to girls without sweating through your shirt.

But your world is about to be turned upside down.

“Wake up. We need to talk.”

One morning, you wake up and find a man standing at the foot of your bed. He looks down at you with an exasperated expression. He wears tattered combat gear that looks like it has seen a decade of war, and something about him seems weirdly familiar, like your dad, but younger, or perhaps you, but older.

“Who are you? What are you doing in my room?” you demand, scrambling backward against your headboard.

The man sighs. It’s a heavy, weary sound. “I am you, but from the future. I used a time machine to get here from twenty years ahead.”

What the fuck?

You blink in shock and study his face. You recognize the nose, the jawline, and even that small scar on his chin from when you fell off your bike in third grade. The resemblance is undeniable. He’s telling the truth.

“Everything is alright in the future, right?” you manage to ask.

Older You sighs again and rubs his temples. “Oh, we’re currently undergoing an alien invasion. The Xylarians want to enslave us, put us in work camps, and work us to ****. Other than that, yeah, we’re doing great.”

“What the fuck?” you hiss, immediately lowering your voice so you don't wake anyone up. “What are the heroes doing?”

Older You sighs. He seems to do that a lot. “Most of them are dead. They were vastly outnumbered. The only solution discovered by the brightest minds of the future is to increase the number of superhumans. But we needed to begin twenty years ago.”

Understanding dawns. The movies you’ve watched suddenly make sense. “That’s why you were sent back! You’re like Kyle Reese from Terminator! They sent you back to save humanity from being enslaved by aliens!”

Older You nods. “You got it. We need at least a hundred more superhumans if humanity is to survive. I was sent back for the survival of the human race.”

A surge of adrenaline courses through you. This is it. Your origin story. “So, does that mean I get superpowers in the future? Am I a superhero?”

Older You sighs again, his expression a mix of pity and awkwardness. “In a way.”

He takes a deep breath and explains. “It turns out I... or we... have super sperm. Any children we have will be born with superpowers. That’s why you need to have sex with at least a hundred women now and impregnate them with our super sperm, so humanity has at least a hundred more superheroes to fight off the alien invasion in twenty years.”

You blink. The silence in the room is deafening.

“You’re joking, right?”

Older You shakes his head. “One hundred percent serious. The smartest minds of the future figured this out. The only way for humanity to survive is for us to have a hundred kids.”

Your jaw drops. “I’m a virgin! You know I am. I can't even talk to a girl without sweating. How on earth am I supposed to get one hundred women pregnant?”

Older You replies, “Those of us from the future timeline will help you. In the original timeline, your powers awakened much later. This time, I injected you with a compound while you were asleep to kickstart your growth.”

You notice a needle mark on your arm. Older You sighs.

“Sorry about that,” he says. “Your powers will awaken soon. Once they do, your sperm will become extra potent, capable of impregnating any fertile woman. You’ll also start emitting pheromones that signal to women that you’re the best possible mate. Their bodies will sense it and feel attracted to you because sleeping with you will give them the best possible offspring. The pheromones don’t control anyone or override free will; they just amplify what’s already there. Think of it like women being drawn to a hot, fit, muscular, rich, supermodel billionaire. Their primal drive will make you more attractive to them.”

You shake your head and grab your hair in frustration. “This is way too much to take in!”

Older You sighs and checks a device on his wrist that starts beeping. “I know, but the fate of humanity, our future, is literally in your hands… or your balls.” He speaks faster now. “Your pheromones will only attract women who are currently ovulating. If a woman wants you and chooses to sleep with you after feeling that pull, she’ll definitely get pregnant.”

He sighs one last time. “I’m almost out of time. The time machine doesn’t have much juice left. I have to go back. Good luck, young me.”

With that, Older You vanishes in a ball of blinding white light. The room goes dark again. You’re left sitting alone in your boxers on your bed, your body suddenly hot. Your boxers feel tighter. You look down at the bulge, which seems slightly larger, more defined.

What the hell did you just get yourself into?