The Advocate

[1]

This was the first job I'd ever had. I graduated at the top of my class in high school and decided to intern during the summer for the Department of Superhuman Affairs. I thought it would be a stepping stone—a way to figure out if I wanted to work for the government, or maybe just something impressive to put on my college applications. But three months in, I'd realized something: this wasn't just a job. It was the job. This was an opportunity people bragged about for years after the fact.

My parents couldn't stop talking about it. "Our son works with superheroes," they'd say to anyone who would have the patience to listen.

It didn't matter that most of my work involved filing reports or running errands—they had stars in their eyes. And honestly, so did I, at first.

Most days, I didn't see any heroes. The ones you saw on TV weren't hanging out in the break room. Most of them didn't even come to the office unless they had to. My closest encounters with "heroics" were helping sort mission logs or sitting in on strategy meetings where I wasn't allowed to talk.

Today, though, was going to be very different.

"Adam," My supervisor Sophia Darcy, or Ms. Darcy as I called her, had said that morning, handing me a clipboard and a pencil.

"You're coming with me. Time to see how things work around here."

I blinked. "Really?"

"Yes, really," she repeated. "You've been doing fine with the grunt work. Consider this a... learning opportunity."

And that's how I ended up in her car, watching the city fly past as I tried to keep my nerves in check.

I stared out the window, my thoughts spinning. Part of me was excited—this was my first chance to see something legit, something outside of paperwork and coffee runs. But another part of me couldn't shake the feeling that I had no business being here.

"This is the part where you talk, by the way," Ms. Darcy said, breaking the silence. Her eyes stayed on the road, but her voice was stern enough to make me sit up straighter.

"Right. Sorry," I said quickly. "I guess I've just got a lot on my mind today."

She gave a small laugh. "Don't overthink it. You're just observing. That's it."

I nodded, though the answer didn't do much to calm my nerves down.

The car slowed as we approached the DSA headquarters, which was a huge fortress of steel and glass that looked more like a sci-fi movie set than a government building. There were guards posted outside every entrance imaginable.

"Welcome to the real DSA," Ms. Darcy said as she parked. "You should feel a hell of a lot special right now. Not many people get this kind of an opportunity."

I followed her inside, and the first thing that hit me was the sheer size of the place. The lobby alone was massive, with clear marble floors and walls lined with digital displays showing live feeds from all over the world.

Ms. Darcy didn't wait for me to catch up. Instead, she moved through the crowd of Agents quickly, her heels clicking against the floor in a way that told people to step aside without her saying a word. I hurried after her, trying not to get distracted by everything around me.

"This is where it starts," she said, gesturing to a wall of monitors showing real-time data. "Incidents, threats, missions. Every decision we make begins here."

I nodded, though I wasn't sure what to say. All of it had left me speechless. As we moved deeper into the building, Ms. Darcy kept pointing things out—labs with scientists working on experimental tech, training rooms where heroes sparred against holographic enemies, and storage facilities housing a whole bunch of weapons.

"Impressive, isn't it?" she asked, glancing back at me.

"Yeah," I said, jumbling my words a few times.

We stopped in front of a wall covered in photos of heroes. At the center was Sentinel Zero, his image larger than the rest. Somehow, even in a still photo, he looked intimidating.

"Sentinel Zero," Ms. Darcy said, stepping closer. "The Golden Boy of the DSA. Recruited when he was still in grade school. By the time he was fifteen, he made the Top 100 Heroes list at #37. At twenty, he managed to climb up to #1."

I stared at the photo, trying to imagine what it must have been to grow up as someone like him.

"What's he like?" I asked.

"Well.. he does what needs to be done, no matter what it takes. That's why he's number one."

The way she said it sent a chill down my spine. I wasn't sure if it was admiration or fear—or both.

"Come on," she said, snapping me out of my thoughts. "We've got more to see."

We moved deeper into the building, passing through corridors that seemed to stretch on forever. A bunch of DSA Agents hustled past us, discussing containment zones, evacuation protocols, and hero rotations. I felt small in comparison like I was playing dress-up in a world far bigger than I could handle.

Ms. Darcy led me through a set of double doors into a large control room. Red dots flashed across it, which I assumed was for marking active situations.

"This is Central Command," Ms. Darcy said, pausing at the entrance. "The brain of the operation. Every hero in the field gets their orders from here. Every mission, every response—it all starts in this room."

I tried to take it all in, but there was too much to process. On one screen, a news feed showed a live broadcast of a hero in Hong Kong stopping a runaway maglev train. On another, agents monitored seismic activity in South America.

Ms. Darcy moved toward a man standing at the center of the room. He was a tall, muscular man dressed in a dark suit.

"Mr. Stride," Ms. Darcy said professionally. "This is Adam Rayde, one of our summer interns. I brought him along to shadow."

Mr. Stride kept his focus on the monitors. "Keep him out of the way."

"Yes, sir," Ms. Darcy replied quickly.

I swallowed hard, dreading the fact that I'd just been dismissed before I'd even had the chance to introduce myself.

Ms. Darcy didn't seem bothered, though. She just motioned for me to follow her as she continued the tour, leading me into a smaller room filled with glass cases. Each one contained something different—a weapon, armor, or a strange device I couldn't identify.

"Now this is the Archive," Ms. Darcy explained. "We keep a little bit of everything here."

I stopped in front of a case holding a cracked helmet. It looked old and worn from battle. The plaque beneath it read: In memory of Blitzkrieg, fallen in the Battle of Los Angeles.

"What happened to him?" I asked.

"Blitzkrieg was one of the best," She said, placing a hand on the helmet. "He died stopping an alien incursion in '96. Sacrificed himself to save the city. That helmet's all that's left of him."

I stared at the helmet, feeling my heart drop. This was the side of hero work that no one liked to talk about.

Ms. Darcy touched my shoulder, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Come on. We're not done yet."

As we made our way back toward the main corridor, an alarm blared. The lights dimmed, replaced by flashing red strobes.

Ms. Darcy's posture stiffened immediately. "Shit.. stay here," she said, pulling a comm device from her belt and speaking into it. "What's the situation?"

A muffled voice came through the device. "Code Black. Rift is attacking the South Gate."

"Of course it's Rift," Ms. Darcy muttered under her breath. She turned to me. "Adam, I mean it. Stay here."

Before I could say otherwise, she had hurried off. But despite her warning, I couldn't stay put. My curiosity—and maybe my stubbornness—got the better of me. I followed the sound of the alarm, moving through the halls until I reached the South Gate.

I spotted the rogue known as Rift, who hovered in the air outside the building as his hands pulsated with purple energy. Debris floated around him—chunks of concrete, metal, and glass.

Agents and lower-tier heroes were trying to contain him, but it wasn't going well. Every time someone got close, Rift sent them flying with a wave of energy. The ground had started to become littered with unconscious bodies.

I should have stayed in the Archive. I should've listened to Ms. Darcy. But something about the grim nature of the scene kept me rooted in place.

"You're out of your league!" Rift shouted, sending a shockwave of energy into a group of advancing agents. They flew backward like ragdolls, slamming into the side of a transport vehicle with a crunch. Rift laughed obnoxiously. "Where are all of your beloved heroes?! Where is Zero? Give me a challenge!"

I froze up, suddenly realizing I was a sitting duck in open space. And then Rift found me.

"You got a name?" he asked, glancing down to my badge. “Adam Rayde.. too bad in about five seconds nobody’s gonna remember it.”

I swallowed. My legs trembled, but they wouldn't move.

Rift raised his hand, and a sphere of purple energy formed in his palm. Before I could react, Rift hurled the energy straight at me. It moved too fast to dodge, or even process. The last thing I saw was the blinding light before it slammed directly into me.

The pain was indescribable. It wasn't just physical—it was like my entire body was being pulled apart molecule by molecule. I caught glimpses of movement—agents shouting, weapons firing, Rift laughing. And then, a new figure entered the fray.

Sentinel Zero.

Even in my dazed state, I recognized him instantly. The black and gold of his armor, the power in his movements. He hit the ground with a force that sent a shockwave rippling through the place.

"Finally," Rift said, his grin returning. "That’s all I wanted. A real challenge."

Sentinel Zero didn't respond. Instead, he moved with precision, closing the distance between them in a single leap. The two clashed, with Rift's energy meeting Sentinel's strength in an explosion of light and sound. Zero didn't speak. He didn't taunt. And he definitely didn't hesitate. Every move he made was calculated and every strike he threw was designed to end the fight as quickly as possible. And sure enough—within moments—it was over. Zero delivered a final, crushing blow that sent Rift crashing to the ground, the rogue's energy fizzling out as he slumped unconscious.

Zero stood over him, his chest rising and falling in slow breaths. He turned to the approaching agents.

"Contain him," he ordered. "Now."

The agents scrambled to comply, rushing to secure Rift in reinforced restraints. Sentinel Zero glanced around the area, his gaze briefly passing over me—broken, bloodied, and barely conscious—before he flew away.

When I woke up, I wasn't outside anymore. The bright lights above me told me I was in one of the DSA's medical bays.

My body ached. I remembered the blast, remembered the way it felt like I was being torn apart. By all accounts, I shouldn't have been alive. But somehow, I was.

I kept my eyes closed, listening to the voices nearby.

"Alex.. are you sure he's going to be okay?" Ms. Darcy whispered.

"Yes," Mr. Stride replied curtly. "Now leave."

Ms. Darcy hesitated. "He's just a kid. Alex, he—"

"I said leave."

There was a pause. Then it was followed by the sound of the door sliding shut.

I opened my eyes just enough to see Mr. Stride standing over me. He was dressed in his usual dark suit, and his hands were positioned behind his back.

"You're finally awake," he said, giving me a bit of an unsettling smile.

I groaned, pushing myself into a sitting position despite the aching of my muscles. "What... happened?"

Mr. Stride studied me for a moment before answering. "You got hit with a blast that should've killed you."

I blinked. "But I'm not dead."

"No," he said. "You're not. And that's the problem. No normal human would've survived an attack like that."

I raised an eyebrow, trying to wrap my head around his words. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying you're not normal," Mr. Stride said bluntly. "The question is, what are you?"

I didn't have an answer. My mind was still spinning from everything that had happened. "I don't know,"

I said finally. "I... I didn't even—"

"Doesn't matter," Mr. Stride interrupted. "Here's how this is going to work."

He stepped back. "I'm offering you a full-ride scholarship to Stride Academy. Think of it as an... investment. You're smart, Adam. And you're useful. But more importantly, I'm going to find out the extent of your abilities."

I stared at him. "And what if I say no?"

Mr. Stride chuckled to himself. "You won't."

I pursed my lips, unable to finthe words to respond. I was equal parts shocked and confused.

Mr. Stride straightened himself up. "I'll take your silence as a yes. We'll start with some tests. I want to know exactly what you're capable of."

Now, whatever normal life I thought I'd had before this was gone. And there was no going back.