Author's Note
I’m pretty new to writing and this is my very first fanfiction. I wrote it as a simple thought experiment. I wasn't able to complete it due to school and other irl stuff, and I have no interest in completing it. However, I do plan on writing my own novel and this’ll be my first steppingstone for my upcoming career. I first wrote this back in 2020 when I was 15 years old, and I wasn’t able to get a fimfiction.net account until recently. I have plans for another MLP fanfiction, so if there are any mistakes in this one, constructive criticism is much appreciated.
Prologue
It was late autumn, and winter is guaranteed to be kicking in soon. Today, the average temperature is currently at 5.5 degrees Celsius, or for the Americans, 42 degrees Fahrenheit. The orange, yellow, and even red leaves are occasionally falling off of the trees and blowing gracefully in the wind. The peaceful routine of the European country of Switzerland combined with the beautiful scenery of the southeastern mountains in the background and the autumn trees would’ve made a vacation out here glorious. But this atmosphere would soon be interrupted by an angered female voice, calling out to her ex-husband, whom she thought was part of some sort of cult. On the now empty streets of Bern, a woman using some telekinetic ability to grow thick vines and branches out from the ground uses said magical vines and branches to throw a nearby parked Chevrolet Equinox LT in a fit of rage.
“EMMERICH!!!” She repeats, this time louder and unable to contain her anger. He has to be here somewhere. She has coerced a hacker into finding this guy’s address and once she finds him, he will learn what happens when you take a mother’s children away from her.
“Er ist weg. [He’s gone]” A staticky, 8-bit, masculine voice lied in German. The woman turned to where the voice came from and saw two men. The one who just spoke wore a dark olive green—almost black—hoodie with matching cargo pants and what looked like a pair of darker hiking boots. His entire body is chromatically aberrated and tends to glitch every ten seconds. Where his face should be is instead obscured by the pitch-black shadow of his hood, making him even more mysterious and intimidating. There’s also a backwards American flag on his right sleeve, implying that he’s in the military, with the abbreviating letters, “S.R.T.” right below it.
In truth, he technically is, since he and his fellow operatives are part of a military division funded by the North Atlantic Treaty Organization and the U.S. government. This division is often referred to as the SRT, which stands for ‘Superhuman Regimental Team,’ though the general public calls them the Periodics.
Standing right beside him was one of his operatives, who is generally known as Fulminazione Uomo in Italy, the name meaning Fulmination Man, due to his ability to spontaneously generate electricity and harmlessly conduct it through his entire body without electrocuting himself and, with enough voltage, use it as a weapon to electrocute people with one punch, and even power an entire house as long as he’s well fed, hydrated, and well rested. So, to amplify that ability even further, he wears a highly conductive suit of full body armor that includes a pair of knuckles and boots with metal toe caps. The entire suit is made of silver, one of the most effective electrical conductors on earth. The most striking feature is his minimalist style helmet, which is just a shiny dome with no eyeholes or any fancy features on it. The helmet was supposedly inspired by Red Hood from the DC universe, when really, he just stole the helmet design. The only thing that helps him see through it is this futuristic one-way visor, like something out of a sci-fi movie.
The staticky hooded man turns towards Fulmination Man.
“Remember the plan, Lorenzo?” He asked, calling him by his real name.
“Sì.” He replies affirmatively in Italian. The two agreed that Lorenzo should shock the woman with his electricity by surprise while the hooded man distracts her. The goal is for him to shock her enough to stun her or knock her down so Hassium could finish her off.
The hooded man shot forward, flying like Superman straight towards the woman as Lorenzo ran down a nearby alleyway. The vine summoning woman didn’t have time to see where Lorenzo was going, for Hassium landed a punch straight to her face, only for it to be blocked by the vines that had just came out from under the concrete road. He flies around and gives her another punch, but those same vines grew rapidly to block that punch as well.
“Hau ab, Hassium! [Get away, Hassium!]” The woman demanded in German, calling the hooded man by his superhero name, Hassium Hacker—named after the transition metal on the periodic table, mostly because he knows a lot about coding. He sort of embraced the name because he didn’t even know what hassium did or was used for.
“Das betrifft Sie nicht! [This doesn’t involve you!]” She continued as the vines wrap around Hassium, about to throw him away.
“Wenn du herumgehst und alles kaputt machst, dann ja. Es betrifft mich. [If you go around and wreck everything, then yeah. It does involve me.]” Hassium replies in the same language, shooting lasers out of his eyes at the vines, slicing them like butter. Being born in Germany, he knew the language well before he was moved to the U.S., where he learned English.
Hassium then flies up to her for another punch only for it to land on thin air, for his target had dodged it and gave him a hard punch. He took it like it was nothing and went for another punch, which was blocked by the woman’s vines she just summoned.
As the two fought, Lorenzo comes out from behind a dumpster, whips out an extendable, durable, spear-like rod made of highly conductive metals and plunges it into her chest and shoves her to the ground, prohibiting her from moving anywhere, all the while, he shoots electricity into the rod and shocking her, giving Hassium even more time to get up, rush over and stomp on her head, crushing her skull and killing her instantly.
“That was… quick.” Hassium commented as he wiggled his foot to get the blood and brain matter off his shoe before glancing at Lorenzo, who’s looking a bit disappointed, though it’s impossible to see his true feelings through his totally original designed helmet.
“Yeah.” Lorenzo sighed. “Thank goodness for that.”
There was a moment of awkward silence as Hassium thought of what else to say.
“I’ll… see you back at the base.” Hassium got out before flying away.
Once Hassium was away, Lorenzo took off his helmet and rubbed his brow to dampen his now growing frustration. He began to feel like this routine of beating the crap out of supervillains is getting repetitive. It’s not like the Joker versus Batman, or Captain America versus Red Skull or the Winter Soldier. Lorenzo really questions why do these guys even bother trying to go up against them. In the end, they always lose. There’s Jacob Payne, a guy obsessed with a medieval sword that grants him superpowers, Neón, who can glow in the dark and summon elastic glowstick whips… and that’s literally it, another man who’s always engulfed in flames like the burning sun named the “Sun Demon”, as the name implies.
And this Poison Ivy ripoff whose name turns out to be Amelia Bickersfield, an angry ex-wife of a businessman, who won a court case following a divorce and it seems that odds were against her favor. She wasn’t even allowed to see the children anymore. And it’s all because of her negligence and selfishness. She even demanded spousal support from the husband. Every decision she makes is entirely based on emotional appeals.
Fighting each of those guys are just his monotonous routine, now. They have no more interesting tricks up their sleeves, because over the past three decades, they’ve used them all up. And now, he feels like he should just kill them all, but he’s trained to follow orders. He was never ordered to kill any of them unless they cause mass destruction. Even so, being a superhero is no longer about adventure and goodwill. Now, it’s no more enjoyable than typing away in an office cubical.
Lorenzo takes out a remote and with a press of a button, his personal vehicle—a silver aerodynamic sports car that looks like a mix between a Mclaren MP4-12C and a Bugatti Veyron Super Sport with pitch black windows like the U.S. president’s limo (even the windshield)—rolls in and stops right next to him. He walks into it and with the engine still left running switches off the self-driving mode and manually drives back to base, contemplating on quitting his job and going back to being a Catholic priest at his church. At least there, he’d have a purpose. He inwardly prayed that something—anything—will make him stay any longer. The pay is much better than his humble self could ever ask for, and he does not want to throw it all away. Not now.
Hassium was sitting at a circular table that’s closest to four feet in diameter, looking at the spotless touch screen of his new iPhone 5 that just came out a couple months ago. The phone had a silver case on it, as if it were metal. He’s really enjoying it and its new features. On the other side of the table sat another man, this one more muscular, who calls himself “Leos,” dressed in camouflage cargo shorts, leather sandals, and a purple, Byzantine style shirt that looks a little tight on him. His porcelain face accompanied by his brown, curly hair, blue eyes, and faint beard stubble is perfectly clean and smooth, not a single blemish in sight.
As Hassium scrolls through YouTube videos on his phone, he comes across a vibrant thumbnail of a video that had the words, “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic” on it in pink letters. Right beside it were six smiling, equally vibrant and colorful horses, or, as little girls like to call them, unicorns.
Each of them had distinguishing features and unique hair styles that make them stand out from each other. One was purple and had the mandatory unicorn horn. The second one is white as snow and also has a horn, but has swirly, purple hair and tail. The third had no horn and instead a pair of wings and rainbow hair. The fourth looked gentle and kind. She was yellow and also had wings like the rainbow haired unicorn. The fifth one was blond and has a cowboy hat, suggesting that she’s from the wild west. And the sixth one has curly, poofy, pink hair that sort of matched her body, which was a lighter shade of pink.
He scoffed at the cartoony image and kept scrolling for anything interesting. He has no interest in shows made for little girls. The only children’s media he’s ever into was Spongebob Squarepants and Star Wars and even that’s starting to become boring for him, now. The trilogy of Star Wars prequels haven’t done well in theaters, and the only appeal of it was the lightsaber duels. His train of thought was interrupted when Leos looked at him, mildly frustrated, and spoke up in his usual Greek accent.
“Hassium, turn off your cell phone and have a discussion with me.”
Though Hassium had no eyes or anything to show frustration or anger, he glared in retaliation at his unnecessarily harsh tone.
“Alright, fine!” He replied, frustrated, as he put his phone in his pocket. “What should we talk about?”
“I just don’t understand why you’re so obsessed with YouTube all of the sudden. People these days. They use their cell phones all the time. Before it’s the television, and now this. All they do is send text messages and play World of Warcraft, or whatever that game is.”
“You obviously never learned the fun of it. People play videogames and spend a lot of time on the internet the same reason why you drink alcohol.”
“Videogames is not a coping mechanism.”
“It actually kinda is.”
There was a moment of silence between the two of them. Hassium was unsure of what else to talk about, until an idea came up.
“Leos.” Hassium asked.
Leos looked at him, anticipating a response.
“You never told me any of your secrets.”
Leos scoffed. “I figured I’ve told you enough about my immortality and how long and how much I’ve suffered because of it. If I wanted to rip the damn garment off, I would.”
Leos has lived for only a couple of centuries, and in that time, he’s experienced battle countless times. He’s also experienced happiness, comfort, sorrow, and heartbreak just as much. At one point, he was prone to depression when someone he deeply respects is gone forever, no matter if they’re dead or not. But now, he’s become so desensitized that nothing makes him feel any sort of negative emotion anymore. There are few things that make him feel any sort of enjoyment. He’s even tried to commit suicide, but literally nothing kills him. He’s stuck with his magic necklace that grants him powers and immortality for Zeus knows how much longer.
“Not that. Since you dress in Spartan armor whenever we go on our little operations, I was wondering where you got that and why you always wear it.”
“Tradition. It is nothing more than just a decoration on my body. I got it from Sparta. An ancient city-state in Greece a long time ago.”
“How long?” Hassium asked, having never hears of Sparta before.
“For maybe two thousand years. I’m not so sure. My memory isn’t all perfect anymore.”
“So, how was it like in Sparta two thousand years ago?”
“Compared to today, it must be a little scary. When I was just an infant, the soldiers of Sparta came to my father’s house and inspected me. In Sparta, they want their infant children to be born looking like they’re gonna become a warrior. I was one of the lucky ones who didn’t get tossed off a cliff.”
“Tossed off a cliff? What do you mean?”
“If that child doesn’t qualify for training, according to the soldiers, they get tossed off a cliff.”
“Damn. That sounds like North Korea. As soon as you were born, you were at risk of dying because the regime judges you whether or not you’re worthy of living on and becoming just another servant in their army.”
“Sort of like North Korea, but if you’re not dead by the time you turn seven, you undergo training for the Spartan army. Boys do it, girls do it. As a matter of fact, they believe that strong women produce strong babies for strong soldiers.”
“I thought it was only men.”
“It wasn’t just men. Anyways, I continue training until I was in my twenties, I think. Then, I have to do a test. They test you to see if you’re going to become a real soldier and an official citizen. If you pass, you continue your training and walk amongst the people of Sparta as a citizen, or the Spartiate, as I would remember it. If not, you become the Perioeci, or the middle class. You could still serve in the army and you paid taxes—so you can still live a relatively normal life in Sparta—but you get no political rights.”
“Is there a lower class?”
“Yes. The helots. You do not want to be in that class. The helots were always looked down upon. You were either a slave or a descendant of people who hated to be under the rule or protection of Sparta.”
“Did you pass that test?”
“Yes. And thus, I was in the Spartiate, and my family was honored.”
“And then what?”
“Look, I’ll talk more about it later.”
“Dude, you said we can have a conversation.”
“Then let’s talk about something else.”
Their conversation was interrupted when they heard a voice in a French accent call from the balcony.
“Guys? You need to come see this!”
Leos and Hassium both rose from their seats and walked to the balcony, where their boss and founder of the Periodics, Copper King, stood at 6’10”. Copper King is a man made entirely out of copper, though his face doesn’t make him seem human. It’s basically a shiny copper mask with small, asymmetrical, circular eyeholes and a small rectangular hole for a mouth as well as a pyramid shaped nose that looks as if whoever made this mask tried their best to make the nose look like a nose. The mask looks most similar to that of a cyberman from Doctor Who.
No matter the weather, or how hot or cold the temperature is, he always wore a copper crown accompanied by a blue Napoleonic military uniform with a copper chestplate, gold epaulettes, red wrist cuffs with gold couplings, white woolen gloves, and 18th century leather boots, displaying that he once served in the Napoleonic Wars as a cavalry officer.
No one can be sure, because everyone would naturally assume that he’s just someone with dissociative identity disorder taking on the role of an 18th century soldier from France, but as it turns out, he was actually born in France and he’s served in the French military at some point in his life. So, his true backstory remains uncertain.
“What is it?” Hassium asked.
“There.” Copper King pointed his gloved hand to a bright, purple light on the hillside. “Such a spectacle I find before me.”
“What is that?” Leos asked.
Leos, having lived 2,454 years of his life, he’s seen some strange stuff, but he could never recall seeing a portal appear in his life, so he was intrigued by the strange object. Hassium initially thought that this portal could lead to the Minecraft dimension due to its purple color, but Copper King and Leos thought that it could be a wormhole that could lead to anywhere in the universe.
“Hassium, call the rest of the team and tell them we have an anomaly to investigate.”
“Aye aye!” Hassium saluted before grabbing his phone and calling for the rest of the team. Meanwhile, Lorenzo enters the house before taking off his dome helmet, feeling a bit depressed.
“Oh, hey, Lorenzo. How was the date night with Lady Flora?” Leos joked.
“Monotonous at best.” Lorenzo responded sadly. “I’m just hoping that something would go different today, or tomorrow.”
“Well, turns out there has been something out on the mountain right about now.”
“Really?” Lorenzo said with a hint of curiosity.
“Yes. You should come see.”
Lorenzo walks to the balcony where Copper King still stood and saw that same light still there.
“Believe me, I’m just as confused as you are.” Copper King comments as he stares in awe and curiosity.
“I’m more excited than confused.” Lorenzo admits. “This might send us to another world and we could visit a peaceful fantasy city.”
Several minutes later, a black man with short black hair named Aiden Tremblay entered the house, followed by a bipedal robot that looks like a mix between the T-800 from the Terminator movies and an assaultron from Fallout 4.
“You have summoned me, Oswald.” The robot says in an a low-pitched Robosoft text to speech voice with a slight electronic twang, calling Hassium by a name an old friend gave to him. He initially has no name. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Stay and await further instruction.” Hassium commanded.
“Waiting.” The robot then stopped just as it got through the doorway. Aiden maneuvers past it as it was taking up a lot of space in the narrow hallway.
“So, y’all said something about an ‘anomaly.’” Aiden asked in his usual southern American accent like CJ from GTA: San Andreas. “What is it?”
“We think it’s a portal that’s worth investigating.” Copper King explains. He notices the absence of two other superheroes. “Where’s Müller and Platinum Prince?”
“He should be somewhere in this ho—” Hassium said as he was about to search for him, but he looked behind him and screamed in horror at his sudden appearance. Müller was wearing a pair of black leather boots, a faded khaki uniform with a belt and ammo pouches, a pickelhauben helmet, a leather gas mask, a backpack, and a pistol holster that’s carrying a loaded Luger self-loading pistol. He also has a Gewehr 98, with a knife strapped to the barrel, slung over his shoulder.
“Müller, don’t sneak up on me like that!” Hassium scolded.
“Now, there should be one more.” Leos said as he waited for Platinum Prince to arrive.
The door opens and a man wearing a set of futuristic platinum full body armor and a crown that’s shorter than Copper King’s. The mask has four lines for the mouth and an inch thick horizontal line of bulletproof glass as a lens for the eyes, even though it’s as easy to see out of as the windshield of a Buzzard car from Mad Max: Fury Road.
His suit of armor was also accompanied by a tactical vest with an assortment of gadgets, including frag grenades, throwing knives, flash grenades, extra ammo clips, and a radio to call the other members. On his utility belt are two holstered pistols, a flare gun, a dagger, and a sword. The fact that he can easily carry all of that without breaking a sweat is impressive, but then again, this assortment of weapons and gadgets is like something Batman would use to take down a small country. This mission that the whole team is about to go on is nothing like that.
Like Copper King, Platinum’s history was shrouded in mystery. Being a man made out of platinum, he claims to have fought in the Polish-Soviet War and in World War II before going into hiding until the Soviets liberated Poland from Nazi Germany. Being strongly against communism, he left for Sweden and then to France, where he met Copper King, and they became best friends.
“Sorry I’m late.” Platinum Prince apologizes in a Polish accent as he entered the home. “You guys said there’s an anomaly we need to investigate. So, I thought I should come prepared.”
Aiden rolled his eyes at the expensive armor he’s wearing. “Whatever, man. Let’s just get this investigation over with so I can be with my girlfriend. We’re plannin’ to watch a movie.”
“Alright, team. Let’s move out!” Copper King commanded.
“TITANium, follow me.” Hassium ordered his robot companion.
“Yes, sir.” It replied before following Hassium as Lorenzo put his dome helmet back on his head and the visor switched back on.
Leos snapped his fingers and for a split second, he was engulfed in a bright light, and once it faded, he’s now wearing ancient Spartan hoplite armor consisting of a gold Korinthian helmet with a red crest, a flanged gold cuirass, gold leg greaves worn over his now taller leather sandals, gold forearm bracers similar to those of Wonder Woman, and strips of leather around his purple skirt, which is part of his shirt of the same color and material. This armor earned Leos the superhero name, Golden Guardian.
As everyone ran out of the house and over to the mountain, where the portal is at, unlike the others, the whole journey there, Lorenzo feels excited that he’s about to experience something interesting. It seems that God has answered his prayers. But once his desire for a new adventure has been fulfilled, it wasn’t on his own terms. Instead, adventure found him.
They all arrived at the portal and once they realized that this portal doesn’t have the ability to suck air in, Hassium, being nearly indestructible, walks closer to it. He was about to check what’s behind it only to find that there’s a cone shaped vortex. He reaches out to touch it, or maybe even feel it.
“Don’t touch it!” Platinum Prince warns in paranoia. “We don’t yet know what it’ll do to us if it’s tampered with. I heard that portals can be very unpredictable, especially where they take you. For all we know, it could send us to the vacuum of space.”
“You worry too much.” Hassium said dismissively. “It’s harmless.”
Just as he says that, he feels some unknown force pulling him towards it. The other start noticing this, too.
“It’s getting a little windy.” Leos comments. “It is almost winter after all.”
Then, Hassium gets violently pulled into the portal, cutting off his screams for mercy once he was through it.
“I TOLD YOU!!” Platinum Prince exclaimed in confirmed panic. The rest of the team attempt to run away, but by then, the gravitational pull from the portal was too great. All eight superheroes were dragged kicking and screaming into the purple swirly vortex. The only one who wasn’t screaming was TITANium, who just willingly ran into the portal to follow Hassium, and Müller, who apparently has no vocal cords to scream, let alone talk.