Reality Revisionist vs. All Heroes

JUNE 23RD 2124

"After 15 years of cleaning up crooks for my country and all those pansy politicians, they go ahead and pull the plug on every Superhero Agency's funding, then suspend our contracts and tell us 'your services as the Committee of Heroes will soon be reconfigured to better benefit the public interest.' Those fags are acting like the rest of the world won't see us as weaklings for this move. And for what? To placate the thousands of freeloaders who decided to beg Big Daddy Government for some handouts? We shouldn't be bowing down to these ingrates just because they're just now obeying the law like expected," Grav-Max ranted to me and the other hero in front of me as we rode the Magnavator to the top of the building. His black, spiky hair and goatee added some much needed darkness to his white, gold, and blue supersuit. The tight fabric was thinly stretched by his huge, beefy muscles, I could see the all the detail. I don't know why I'm noticing this... or why it's so nice to think about.

"Yer tellin' me," Showdown Sam responded, "those fuckers won't even let me perform private practice anymore because 'it's unneeded now that culture has changed.' Just 'cause they think crime and war won't come back don't mean we should be withheld from takin' the law into our hands until they return to reality. They also have the gall to assign a final mission for us when 3 of our members are missin'! Lower crime rate my ass; we're clearly dealing with a psy-op ran by commies in the FBI. Bet they got the others chained up in a black site prison while they whittle us down." The greying fat man was polishing his gun as we waited to reach the meeting room. He wore red cowboy attire, with a brown leather vest, hat, and pair of chaps. His ass looks great with how the chaps frame it... Wait, why am I thinking about that?

I shook off the awkward thought and stared out the glass enclosure of the lift. We had already shot past the advertisement-lined skyscrapers flashing bright images of and the public-air space for hovercrafts, and we were only just past the halfway point. Commercial planes flew around the tower's energy barrier to not short out and crash, as did the civilian vehicles. I relished the trip as I was reminded of the position in the world that was being taken from me. Not that I believe the bullshit world peace initiative they were trying to push through. The behavioral change in the citizenry of the Reconstructed States of America was a sudden and concerning shift, but nothing corporations couldn't lobby against. I didn't become co-chairman by leaving it up to chance.

I said, "Calm your tits boys! Remember that after we resolve this supernatural issue we can still terminate our contracts, get the full-payout, and then we can take long publicity tours until we know if Hero Work is illegalized or not. Besides, once the legislators get their heads in order and bow to the economic pressure they're putting themselves in, I'm sure this is gonna blow-"

Suddenly, Max, Sam, and I all started to get light-headed and lose balance, falling to the floor of the magnetic lift as we got close to the top. This was the Quaking, as mass phenomenon that everyone on Earth experienced in the past two months. Unless encumbered by a task, people would black out (if they were busy, they would space out and robotically get stuff done) and wake up with foggy memories of things that didn't exist. There were some things almost no one remembered, while many people had vague memories of others.

I woke up when I heard the ding of the Magnavator doors opening up to the meeting room floor in the stratosphere. When we got to our feet, my fellow superheroes and I dusted ourselves off. Looking at them, I could tell they were as distressed about the meeting as I was. The sudden geopolitical shifts have caused as much concern and they did celebration. Even though the Committee was being abolished, I understood that I couldn't shift the views of almost all the world leaders on Earth, and we had to solve the meaning of the Quaking in relation to it.

I said to my compatriots, "well let's go you ugly fucks," to which they chuckled.

I pushed through the door and saw we were the only ones not seated, as everyone arrived early. The Committee of Heroes consists of 10 superheroes appointed by the government to organize regional for-profit Hero Agencies across the country. We are the most powerful private security and military contractors on the planet-or we were until the most powerful nations on Earth agreed to demilitarize and primarily fund public welfare programs from now on. While no one wanted to outright admit it, we were all more interested in making more money rather than resolving these global conflicts

The members of the Committee present were:

Me, Fiery Frost, a man known to many as 'The Savior of the Atlantic Coast' and co-chairman of the Committee of Heroes. I'm the platonic ideal of a masculine man, standing at 6'2'' with the muscles of a professional bodybuilder. My short red hair, beard, and body hair contrast well with my icy blue eyes. I have complete temperature and climate control, allowing me to localize my powers to strengthen them to freezing breath and burning punches. Men want to be me and woman throw themselves with me, though the job required that I kept it to flings and not while on the job (though the latter didn't stop me). I stood between foreign adversaries and dissidents that fought against governmental. However, government interests are not the same as they were only a month ago and I can't convince anyone in any of the branches to reconsider their decisions.

Grav-Max, a buddy from my Air **** days I recommended to be accepted into the Committee when he gained his powers; He can freely manipulate gravity within a 50-foot radius of himself. He was the most loyal of soldiers, the kind of ally who you can shoot the shit with but keeps their mouth shut when told to. Although, he's pretty shitty at reading the room though, so I have to keep his comments in check (I've had to train him off of using barracks-humor in front of audiences and the media after some publicity scandals. People get so sensitive about jabs at their character these days...) Plus, he used to get real faggy in the showers, but he saw counselors at his church for that;

Showdown Sam, a sort of Lonestar cowboy from Texas who came up from nothing, but shot even further up once he got his powers. I first met him as my coach when playing football at Duke after serving; he was very patriotic and we bonded over our love of firearms, so he treated me well. After I heard he gained a strong power, I was able to recommend him to the Committee. He can fully control any projectile within 10 feet of him, so he can redirect his bullets and any he sees coming. He's a great peer and role model to me in every way except in the looks and weight department. Although... I guess he can be fat AND handsome... he's a pretty fine catch for an old man;

Ace Angel, my co-chairwoman (it felt annoying that I had to share the position, but it's what investors and the Congress wanted) and a former-Fortune 500 CEO. She's a busty, curvy, blonde woman who can fly and turn light into energy blasts and constructs. She often turns into a frigid loner who can't help but cold shoulder me if she thinks I'm "making an advance" on her. I start to complement how her white and gold uniform fit her but then... I didn't really care to anymore. Why am I doing all the time that anyway? Maybe I shouldn't if I want her to actually like me instead of just fuck me... I guess...;

Big Blaster, a tall, bald, black man with a runner's build and a short salt-and-pepper goatee. He can release explosive energy from his body as well as load objects and control the detonation, so his signature tools are bouncy balls. He's also the unofficial treasurer of the Committee; he manages the mission expenses, but we all keep our own agencies finances separate. I don't often speak to him, but I can tell he always takes extensive notes at every meeting. He once tried to ask me to refrain from using my barracks jokes in meetings and spending money for recreational purposes on missions, so I told him to lighten up and reminded him we can all have a little fun while working. Though... I could lessen up on the insulting jokes...;

Tech Trix, a scrawny nerd with patchy, brown facial hair that reflected his wimpy persona. The twerp has something to hide about his body, so he always wears a huge "hacker" trench jacket (one time when it got soaked with water, I heated it up to shrink it and reveal more of his arms and legs. Everyone was pretty entertained by his humiliation, even BB). He's a technopath who can make any device work for him, including things missing pieces by morphing parts of his body into bits of machine. He is currently working on the presentation for the meeting (because I'm not doing that menial shit when we basically have IT) and is discussing it with... somebody. I also start to make a quip about his muscle definition, but consider against it. I honestly don't see the pleasure in it anymore... He looks pretty cute-I mean good, but needs to work out and eat more;

Finally, Fancy Slicer, the resident swordsman, is a half-Japanese-half-French fugitive from the United Providences of the Canadian Alliance we gave amnesty and a leadership position to for exposing their national secrets. If he blocks any attack, he can instantly counter and move up to 30 feet away in less than a second. He always has a smirk on his face when we speak, and I can never tell if he was truly listening to me or just pretending too. He has thick moustache that matches his cocky persona and a scar that went diagonally across his blind left eye; it stretched to the top of his head so and dug into the darkness on his scalp. He takes really good care of his hair. Wonder what it would be like to run my fingers through it...;

They're all sitting around the large, u-shaped meeting table in front of a hologram projector at our assigned seats. TT was doing last-minute updates to the presentation, However, someone that was not supposed to be there was at his chair: one of the missing heroes.

God's Guardian, formerly Godly Goon, was the only member who didn't run or organize any agencies. He was formerly a gangster who manipulated other mafioso by acting as their lowly right-hand men, using his power to redirect negative aspects of reality away from himself and whoever he wanted (attacks, consequences, thoughts and attention, etc.) When the government finally captured him and deemed his power was so strong it made him a One-Man-Nation-Destroyer, they threatened to have him executed if he used it on other people (that the government didn't authorize first). Even though he was kept on a tight leash with the kill collar around his neck, we all felt uncomfortable to work with this walking weapon who could warp perception controlled by the state.

That now changed as they are giving reparations to those falsely or cruelly imprisoned. He no longer wore the collar that would inject nerve-toxins into him before he could react, now free from that control. He sat at his seat with his legs spread on his table, wearing his usual attire of only combat boots. His ever-erect cock was out there for all to see, glazed in his ever-dripping precum. The musk permeating around this hairy hunk always makes me dizzy, so I was knocked off balance in two ways by him being here.

"W-wh-what the fuck is he doing here?!"

"I'm here for the meeting, dumbass," GG said.

"Well you were kidnapped, so why didn't I know you would be here?! And why are you still on the Committee when you're most likely free now?!"

"He wasn't kidnapped," Ace Angel responded, "he apparently went under deep cover in Germany for the International Bureau of Power Management to track down a suspected OMND with Future Eyes and The Horrific Hound. They lost the trail on this individual, but apparently gained some insight into The Quaking from that and will have his own slide in the presentation. After that, he's retiring."

Future Eyes is the resident clairvoyant and all-around psychic. She's this tall, hot Middle Eastern chick who's a total babe, but is more frigid and quiet than AA and BB combined. She and GG apparently spend time together, so they're probably fucking. The Horrific Hound is a shapeshifter who, while being able to transform into multiple species of animal, mostly turns into a werewolf-like form. I always teased him by asking if he fucks as a wolf and if he likes it 'doggy style.' He gets all huffy and angry and then has to go tear up a couch to calm down. Drama queen much? If I were a werewolf, I'd do it and brag about it.

"FUCKIN' IBPM! Ya trusted those globalists with our strongest weapon?! Why the fuck ya let that happen bitch," Sam shouted at her, in a tizzy over trusting Outside Agencies. I hated relying on them rather than doing shit ourselves, but Sam thought every single one was always looking to fuck over the states.

"Oh, you want reasons fuckhead? 1) this was approved by Congress, the Senate, the CIA, AND MOST IMPORTANTLY OUR SHAREHOLDERS, 2) IBPM promised a large off-the-books donation to the Committee, and 3) they had already scooped them up before asking for my say. This was entirely approved by higher-level officials than us, so don't curse at me for your ignorance, Texan trash!"

"Well why wasn't I asked about this," I piped up.

"Because they knew you would say no and it requires only one chairman's approval," she flatly responded.

Dejected, but keeping my cool, I walk around the desk to my seat in the center of the table. Max and Sam followed, all of us shielding our eyes as we passed GG's bubbly ass coated in blond fur. I caught a glimpse of the only other piece to his outfit: a golden buttplug with a crest imprinted on the base. It was some memento from his mob days he got to keep. I asked him in a whisper, "Where's the chick and the dog?"

He replied, "FE and HH are debriefing with R&D. They managed to retrieve a tool the suspect used after we lost him in a chase."

"So you failed?"

"For now. We'll have some intel to lead us back to him very soon."

"...Okay. Just get your act together and start being a team player."

"Good advice-you should follow it."

I quietly seethed as I got to my seat beside Ace Angel. From the left side of the table to right, we were seated: HH, BB, FS, TT, AA, FF (me), GM, SS, GG, and FE.

Tech Trix walked between my cochair and I and said, "Okay, the presentation is finished. Just use THIS clicker to start it up and page through the slides. Feel free to call me up if you need any help explaining something."

"Okay," I responded, "I won't, so you can go take your seat."

"Well there's new material that-"

"You heard him shrimp," Grav-Max interjected

Clearly annoyed and distraught, TT handed me the remote and sat down in his spot on the lap of the young, bearded man he worked on the presentation with, wearing ever-shifting clothes. I didn't recognize him as being from any specific department in any of our Agencies. However, that really didn't matter to me.

I looked down at the controller I was given: it only had one button, but it's covered in weird symbols and writing I couldn't understand. There's an eye with a 'No' symbol over it at the bottom. Above the button, there's text that says "Progress the Quaking" with a dash through it. I didn't understand the design choices Trix made, but ultimately moved on.

"Anyway, let's go ahead and get to the main event, everybody. As you know, there have been strange reports of people remembering concepts and words that should not exist or make no sense like 'Ku-ill-durn,' 'Die-zeez,' and 'Raa-pits.' Nobody know what these thing are, and they are likely delusions caused by this phenomenon, but-"

As soon as I click the button to start the presentation, another quake began. It was shorter, but twice as world-shaking. All of my body rattled in sync with it and I had to allow it to pass through my body and mind...

(Hey, hope you like this. This a project I mostly finished but then dropped for some time. I didn't necessarily feel comfortable doing it before, but I think I'm ready now. It's kind of my take on The Seven from The Boys getting defeated by a kinky reality warper, but I wanted to make a group of characters where no one is an active **** or a heartless killer [they are basically millionaires and corrupt cops tho]. Overall, this is going to mostly focus on the world changing thanks to the 'villain' and the superheroes getting culturally outmoded until they have to serve the public in a NEW way. Also, expect some FTM TGTF for the two female characters I mentioned [not to be confused with another character who will shown to be a trans-man.] Regardless of all that, here it is, and I'll fix any typos when I find them.)