Milly Mulcher stood in the stands, keeping an eye out on the track for Z-Truck. She had disappeared off somewhere a while ago and she hadn’t been able to find her since.

“Where could ya have bloody gone, ya supe cock?” Mulcher muttered under her breath.

Both she and Sonicboom were standing around earlier, rallying their fans for the race, but while Sonicboom still stood on the track, how arranging her orange hair up into its spiky shape, the rainbow haired speedster still hadn’t returned.

“Prenchie, have you gotten out of ‘ere? I can’t find Z-Truck.”

“Oui, Milly, but I still don’t have anything.”

Mulcher sighed and put her binoculars down. She turned to Father’s Coffee, who was looking at something on her phone. “Oi, FC, what’s up?”

“Oh, I brought up Soarmaster’s feed onto my phone. Easier that way.” She tilted the screen discreetly so that only Mulcher could see it. Soarmaster was currently seated in the living room, watching TV. He must be waiting for the race to start. “I’ll keep an eye on him, see if anything comes up.”

“Good on ya, FC.” Mulcher gave her shoulder a firm pat.

There was the sound of a rushing truck and Mulcher looked back to see that Z-Truck was now back out on the track, standing on the opposite end of the field from Sonicboom. Something was off about her. She was more jumpy than usual, taking very quick steps back and forth, and she was sweating bullets. If she didn’t know better, she would say Z-Truck was jacked.

“Oi, I think she’s already taken it.” She pointed for Coffee to see.

“Sheep.” Coffee squinted to get a better picture. “That Prenchie probably didn’t search well enough.”

“You know I can hear you, Coffee.”

“Then you know you didn’t try hard enough. Z-Truck’s jacked up. She might hurt someone.”

Mulcher smirked. “Well, if she hurts anyone, I do hope she blunts herself in.”

“So how else are we going to catch her in the act?”

“We’re just gonna have to wait an see…” Father’s Coffee looked at her phone and frowned. “You know what, I’ll pass on this race. There’s something I gotta go check out.”

“Oh? Somethin’ more important than catchin’ this supe?” Mulcher raised an eyebrow.

Coffee looked elsewhere for a few seconds, then back at her. “It might be. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Well, alright then.” Mulcher ate more from her box of popcorn. “Just let me know what ya find.”

“Will do.” Coffee headed off the stand.

Mulcher breathed in deeply, then brought the binoculars back up to her eyes again. Z-Truck was being incredibly agitated, constantly whipping from side to side as she hopped on her feet, moving so fast that she looked like a blur. Perhaps to the regular civilian, she just looked like she was warming up, but Mulcher and The Girls knew better after what they heard from her conversation with Soarmaster.

If she lost, Sonicboom would take her spot on The Septet. Perhaps that was something they could use against the rainbow speedster, but only if she didn’t win. Mulcher sighed. That wasn’t a very good plan.

Sunset had been wronged by this superhero and Mulcher wanted to make sure supes like that were exposed to the public. They didn’t care about saving people. All they were after was the improvement of their own image.

Everyone around her suddenly looked skyward and began pointing.

Mulcher shoved more popcorn in her mouth and joined them. There was a parent and child on her left, squealing about how it was a bird or a plane. He wanted to lean over and club them over their heads for even thinking it could be either of those.

There was a rumbling of wind and behind them, at the very top of the stands, Protectorate Sod rocketed down, landing in a crouch with one fist on the ground. Cheers erupted amongst the civilians and Mulcher fought the urge to yell at them to stop.

Protectorate Sod raised her form, tipped her hat and began waving to the crowd.

What a cheeky little blighter… Mulcher narrowed her eyes. Protectorate Sod was the ideal heroine in everyone’s minds, the best of the best. But Mulcher knew it better than anyone that she was far from the best. Sod was the reason she was even in this anti-supe business in the first place.

“Welcome, citizens of Canterlot!” a voice erupted out of the speakers around the stadium. “Are you prepared for the Race of the Century?”

This announcement was met with more thunderous cheers and an outpouring of applause.

“Today, just for you, we have two of the city’s greatest heroes, pushing themselves to the limit to see just who is the fastest speedster on the block!” the announcer bellowed. “Let’s hear it foooooor… Sonicboom!”

Sonicboom jogged on the spot, her orange uniform dazzling the cameras. She raised both her arms into the air and made two peace signs with her hands. The cheering grew even louder.

“And competing against her, The Septet wonder herself, iiiiiiit’s… Z-Truck!”

Z-Truck’s rainbow hair swished around in the air as she leapt into the air and did a spin. She raised her hand in a wave and blew a kiss to the spectators, who cheered even louder than before.

The two speedsters moved toward the starting line. Two huge concrete blocks were set up at the beginning of the racetrack for the racers to push off from. Their respective logos and symbols were painted onto the blocks. All around the two heroes, cameras and newscasters jockeyed for a glimpse of the two racers.

Mulcher wanted to say she kept an eye on them, but instead, her focus was on someone else. Protectorate Sod still stood at the top of the stands, clapping along with the crowd with a huge smile on her face.

The superheroine saw her watching and she stopped clapping, locking eyes with the black haired woman instead. Mulcher didn’t care whether Protectorate Sod saw her looking or not. There wasn’t much else she could do right now, but she silently promised the heroine that one day, she was going to understand what was coming to her and she was going to regret what she had done.

The official took his position at the starting line. He held a stubby black pistol in his hands, and he gestured to both Z-Truck and Sonicboom to take their places on the track. Both heroes got into a sprinter’s crouch, bracing their legs against the concrete blocks as they waited for the signal to begin. The crowd grew quiet as the official raised his pistol to the sky and his finger curled against the trigger.

Bang!

In a near invisible blur of blue and orange, both Z-Truck and Sonicboom were gone from the starting line, the concrete blocks cracking and sliding back a few feet from the immense amount of force that had been exerted on them by the speedsters’ push-off. There was a sudden blast of wind, and then a shrill whistle as the sensors installed at the finish line were tripped.

All around the stadium, the big screens flickered as they displayed the slowed down footage of the finish line as the blue-clad Z-Truck crossed it, arms in the air in a pose of victory.

“And there we have it, folks! The race of the century, and…” the announcer’s voice bellowed. “The winner is… Z-TRUCK!”

The cheers of the crowd exploded around Mulcher as people got up to rush the track, hopeful of selfies and autographs. She scoffed at everyone who paid to be here today. It was a waste of time and money to watch a race you couldn’t even see.

Mucher watched as Protectorate Sod put her hands on her hips and shook her head with amusement, then flew down to the track to see Z-Truck and her crew. She narrowed her eyes again as she eyed the blonde haired heroine, pretending like everything was alright with the world. Mulcher didn’t like that one bit.

“Race is over, girls.” Mulcher radioed in. “Guess we should get out of ‘ere soon. Not much point hangin’ around.”

Taking one last look at the heroine, Mulcher sneered at her, then turned her back and headed away from the bleachers. Protectorate Sod didn’t know it yet, but the battle had already begun.

Soarmaster sat up in his couch as Z-Truck’s footage was shown on his television screen as she passed the finish line in slow motion. He had to give it to whoever had made these cameras. Catching something moving that fast was surely a feat, especially seeing as his girlfriend was moving at the speed of sound.

“Go, Z!” He chugged a can of beer and threw it in the corner when he was done.

He wished he could be out there with her right now, but Z-Truck had been right. Vogel wouldn’t allow it, not unless they were first allowed to officially be together. He sighed and grabbed another can. It was ridiculous how they had to first be approved if they wanted to be together. The decision should be made between the two individuals, not the company that oversaw them.

“What a load of sheepskin.” Soarmaster ripped open the can’s lid and drank from it.

When the race was over, the cameras were on Sonicboom and Z-Truck out on the track, with the reporters ready to ask them a barrel of questions. Z-Truck still looked wired and Soarmaster knew the reason for that. She had really done it again. Hold X really made her a lot faster, and he was relieved she hadn’t accidentally run through anyone this time. It would be a hassle to have to go through all those legal issues again so soon.

“Z-Truck, congratulations on the amazing victory! How does it feel?” one of the reporters asked Soarmaster’s girlfriend.

Z-Truck removed her goggles and ran a hand through her rainbow hair. “It was awesome, of course! I was going at speeds I didn’t think were possible. And I only have my fans to thank for that, for cheering me on all the way.”

“So what are you going to do now? Off to celebrate the victory? With a special someone, perhaps?”

Soarmaster floated closer to the TV, anxious to hear what Z-Truck was going to say. He knew what he wanted to hear and though he knew the chances were low, he still held on to the possibility that Z-Truck loved him more than the rules set for them.

“I uh…” She babbled for a second. “No, I’m still single and always ready to mingle!”

Soarmaster dropped himself to the ground and closed his eyes. He was disappointed with what Z-Truck said, but then again, he had already been fully prepared to hear it. But why did it still hurt?
Soarmaster groaned and looked to the shelves under his TV. He reached his hand into one and removed a vial of purple liquid, looking at it disappointedly. It worked like a drug, so maybe it could help with taking his mind off Z-Truck’s statement.

The hero flew over to his kitchen counter and pulled open a drawer where he kept a boxful of syringes. He picked one out and jammed it into the bottle and pulled back the plunger, sucking up the purple fluid into the syringe’s barrel.

“Z-Truck, why…? Don’t you love me?” He jabbed the needle into his arm and pushed the plunger back down.

The purple fluid began to vanish from the syringe and almost immediately as it entered his system, Soarmaster felt the liquid reach his heart and get pumped all over his body. As the needle fell to the ground, Soarmaster grinned and levitated up; he loved the rush that soon followed.

Grinning, he flew around his apartment, spinning and turning whenever he had to to avoid knocking into furniture. He felt faster, stronger, and definitely happier. It felt good, to have so much power coursing in his veins. He jetted over to the corner of his room, where he kept a stack of weights. He piled on as many as he could onto a dumbell and began lifting it. At first, he took it slow, because he didn’t know just how much he could lift, but when he picked it up, it felt almost like lifting a stack of paper and his smile only got broader.

Soarmaster grabbed two of them and began tossing them up in the air and catching them again. He felt so powerful and it was the best feeling he’d ever had, maybe even better than sex with Z-Truck.

“I’m on fire!” He whistled and flew back out to the living room. “Hold X is all I need.”

There was a knock on his door and it broke his attention to how strong he was. Soarmaster dropped the weights to the carpeted floor and he heard something splinter, but he just floated over to the door and flipped it open. It was his landlord, Dunder Snitch, and he was holding a stack of papers in his hands.

“Mr. Dunder Snitch, what can I do you for?” he asked. “If you can see, I’m a little busy right now, so if it’s nothing important…”

“The month is up, Soarmaster. You know how it is,” the man said in his heavy Stalliongrad accent. “I know you’re hero and all, but hero is still human, so you know what I need from you. Give me rent.”

“Rent?” Soarmaster repeated. “Can’t this wait? I’m in the middle of something.”

“You’ve been late on your last three payments,” Dunder Snitch said, a frown coming onto his face. “I want rent now.”

Soarmaster looked back into his apartment, where the weights had made a hole in the wooden floorboards.

“You’ll get your rent when you fix this floor!” he snapped. “Doesn’t mean I don’t walk means you can leave the broken floor as it is.”

“Floor?” He tried to look past the hero. “There is nothing wrong with floor. I repeat. Give me rent.”

“Listen, you old coot,” Soarmaster shouted. “Either fix the floor or get out of my face. I got more important things to do than talk to you unless it’s about fixing up this dump.”

“Hey.” Dunder Snitch stepped into the apartment and folded up the papers and pointed them at him. “You are hero. I am landlord. Landlord is above hero, da? Hero does not treat people this way. What if… words get out that you are mistreating your kind landlord? You will be hero no more. So I give ultimatum to you. Give me rent.”

Soarmaster had had it. Dunder Snitch was his landlord and all, but he was having a good time and now the man was trying to threaten him.

“I’ll give you the rent when I want to!” He grabbed the balding man by the collar and slammed him against the wall, flying up to the ceiling and holding him in place. “I am a superhero, what are you? You are a nobody. If you don’t like it here, just go back to Stalliongrad and do what you want there.”

He tossed to man to the ground, where he landed in front of the dumbell and the couch.

Dunder Snitch rubbed the back his head, which was now bleeding across the carpet. “I only want rent. Give me rent and I go.”

Beside the dumbbell, the floor had indeed splintered and there was wood jutting up from under the carpet, though the carpet still kept it in place.

“No, you always treat me like dirt.” Soarmaster swooped down and lifted him again, only to smash him back down on the ground. “Now I’m gonna put some dirt in your eye. I am a farming superhero! I’m not just some guy who needs an apartment! I save lives, the public loves me! What gives you the right to even ask me for rent?”

“You signed agreement!” Dunder wailed as he was slammed back on the ground again.

Soarmaster’s anger burned against the man. “You good for nothing Rushky!”

He picked him up by the shirt again and he spun around in the air and flipped the landlord over his shoulder and this time, when he crashed into the ground, face first, there was a cracking and splattering sound and Dunder Snitch stopped moving. Blood began to pool out from under his face as Soarmaster panted, slowly understanding what had just happened.

The hero dropped back to the floor and pulled Dunder Snitch up and to his side. He had landed beside the dumbbell, where the floor had splintered. The impact earlier had pierced his face through one of such spiked segments and the carpet. His nose was now a bloody ruin and Soarmaster had to yank it off the spiked portion of his floor, which had gone right through and out his left eye as well. His eyeball still lay on the floor deflated and blood was still seeping out of his head, staining the carpet.

“Oh, oh no, oh no.” Soarmaster’s legs wobbled. “What have I done…?”

He looked at his bloodied hands and he shivered and dropped to the floor. He had felt so good and the slightest irritation had put a stop to that feeling and triggered a serious burst of outrage from him.

“Why did I do all this? Why? Z, Z, where are you?”

“Z-Truck’s not coming.” A purple and aquamarine haired woman with a shiny pink beanie walked into his apartment, carrying a phone in her hand. “I have it all, Soarmaster. I saw what you did. Now you’re going to tell me what you know, or the world is going to know what you did.”

“W-What? Who are you? You were here. You were fixing my internet.”

“A ruse, I’m afraid.” She squatted down in front of him. “Now look, we know you know about Hold X. And you’re going to tell me everything you know about it.”

Author's Note

Couldn't help myself. Russian landlord. I had to do it. Hope y'all enjoyed it. This chapter.