Hyperion Seeds

If you go to the Lucky Car Wash on Fourth Street and order the deluxe package they’ll give you two coins. On one side is a four leaf clover with their name; the other side merely reads “No Cash Value.” Which is ridiculous because you just paid one hundred dollars for the two coins, of course it’s got cash value. The two coins would be identical if not for the hole punched into one of them.. This ensures that the auto-wash machine outside won’t take this coin.. Someone actually wanting a car wash would have to go back inside and exchange the desecrated coin for a new one, but I’m pretty sure someone actually wanting a car wash won’t pay one hundred dollars for two deluxe washes, even if the deluxe does give you a whole second wash and rinse cycle.

Now, if you take the warped coin of no cash value to a rooftop three blocks away and trade it to a guy named Vince, or sometimes it’s Jimmy. Whoever you give it to will give you a baggy with 5 small pills. Little brown spheres waiting to be popped.  Hyperion Seeds they call them. Well, not Vince or Jimmy. They don’t call them anything. They provide you with some goods in exchange for exactly no cash value and then they want you go away.

Now, why am I telling you any of this? Well, seventeen weeks ago my ex, Jen, messaged me. We hadn’t spoken in about a year and the break-up had been pretty bad. Throwing things out of the window bad. There’s this new thing dot dot dot. I ignored it. Whatever she had was the past. I was done with that stuff. My life was good and I didn’t want to screw it up. Ignoring her was the easy thing to do.

Sixteen weeks ago I failed a test in my anatomy class, and overdrew on my bank account, so I did the easy thing. I sent her back a single character.

Question Mark.

Remember when we talked about changing the world?

Question Mark.

Well, now we can.

Question Mark.

Can you reply with words?

Question Mark.

Fine. None for your.

I might have lost my chance if her typo hadn’t broken the tension. It’s hard to stay mad when you go to slam the door and miss getting a handle on the handle.

I did remember. I remembered those late nights on the roof of her building staring up into the stars and being mad when they got eclipsed by those that flew in front of them. Not mad because they ruined the view. The view was crap because we lived in the city and the light pollution only lets in a handful of stars at a time if you’re lucky. No, I got mad because they were doing what I couldn’t. They were super and I was jealous. They weren’t using their powers right. You’ve heard the stories too, the scandals, the in-fighting. Even the ones not marred by their human flaws had things they couldn’t catch, times they couldn’t be there. I knew I could’ve done better given the chance.

So fifteen weeks ago on her rooftop with the sun down she kisses me. She slipped me some tongue and something extra. I took it and swallowed assuming it would lead to some trip and this is what I had signed up for wasn’t it? She stared into my eyes and nothing happened for a minute. Then I felt it. When you have a hot chocolate on a cold night the sips travel down your throat and small amounts of warmth radiate from your stomach until eventually your body is filled with that warm happiness. This did the reverse. Cold started in my fingertips and travelled up my arms and inwards until my stomach was the only warm part of my body. Jen must have seen the effect in my face because she smiled and broke away from me. She ran for the edge of the rooftop and leapt.

Fourteen weeks ago we were jumping from rooftop to rooftop. The sky wasn’t just their world anymore it was our world too. They had to share it now. At least for an hour at a time. After that the emetic core of the seed kicks in and makes you throw up the thing.

Thirteen weeks ago she introduced me to the Lucky Car wash.

Twelve, maybe eleven weeks ago I told her we needed costumes.


“Yeah, so no one can know our secret identities.”

“I think the fact that we’re blurs in the dark night sky is cover enough.”

“It won’t be when we start the crime fighting part.”

She rolled away from me. “Listen—”

“No. Remember when we talked about changing the world?”

Ten weeks ago I did my first vigilante.

Nine weeks ago I sat recovering in the hospital. She sat beside me, her face an equal blend of sympathy and I told you so. Turns out the super healing you get from the seeds is not all-encompassing like that of the now infamous Immortal Reggie.Getting shot didn’t hurt when it happened. It didn’t even hurt when I returned to her rooftop. It looked like I had mostly healed. My side didn’t look great, but I wasn’t bleeding and the wound had scabbed over well enough. Once I threw up, I realized that the bullet was still inside me. That hurt more than I imagined that the initial shooting would have hurt. Glad I didn’t feel that part. Glad that she came to check on me. Glad I didn’t die up there in a pool of my power vomit.

Eight weeks ago I swore to myself that I wouldn’t do it again.

Seven weeks ago I swore to her that I wouldn’t do it again.

Six weeks ago she let me take some just to heal up the rest of my injuries. I was recovering at a normal enough pace, but we were bored of me being cooped up. She took some too. Solidarity or something.

Five weeks ago we took some more because it just felt so good to feel so powerful.

Four weeks ago we went jumping again. I swore I wouldn’t do the crime fighting bit, but the jumping would be fine. With self-control this was no different from going to the movies or paragliding.

Three weeks ago we broke up. It wasn’t throwing things out the window bad. It wasn’t even slamming door bad. She found out I went out to fight crime again. No fight. She just walked out and asked if I could be gone when she came back.

Two weeks ago I made a costume and fought a super-villain. I tried to think of a theme to design the costume around, but I’m not the most creative person. I thought about picking a Greek mythological name to pay homage to the seeds that give me my power, but I was pretty sure there was already a group with that theme. So I just went for a simple outfit. A blue suit with a blue tie. Blue painted boots. I couldn’t find blue boots in the wild, so I just spray painted some work boots I had lying around. Then to complete the ensemble, a blue ski mask. All blue. I figured if I was seen by someone and they named me it would be the blue something or other and I thought that was fine.

The super-villain I fought had his stuff figured out though. He committed to a lumberjack aesthetic. Wore flannel. Had a big beard. And was hacking his way into the side of a bank with this trusty axe. He had breached the wall of a bank when I found him in that alley. So I jumped onto him and we both crashed into the vault. The alarms started blaring their high pitched ringing while we slugged it out. He had the advantage. Strength and speed-wise we seemed about the same. He had an axe though. A super strength axe is nothing to laugh at. I’ll remind you that he was cutting through concrete and steel walls with ease before I interrupted him. I thought I was going to lose. He cut above my head and stuck his axe into the door. I took that moment to put my shoulder into abdomen and separate him from his axe. I also separated him from his lunch. The force of my attack forced vomit onto my head. With that he went limp. I left him there for the approaching sirens and went back to my rooftop before my seed wore off. Later when I cleaned off the vomit I saw that familiar sphere in the mix of other stomach contents and realized we both got our power from the same source.

One week ago news broke about a super-villain duo that tried to break into a bank. They name the duo Paul Bunyan and his Blue Ox. The Ox got away, but was caught on tape fleeing the scene. I guess they didn’t have any tape of me fighting Paul Bunyan to show that we weren’t a duo though.

This week. I’m wearing red. I think it suits me better anyway. Some days I regret learning about these Hyperion Seeds, but not enough to stop. All the cracked ribs, and mistaken crimes, all the break-ups and throw-ups. If I can change the world like I’ve always wanted it’ll all be worth it. Besides, if these seeds exist and some are going to use them for evil, there has to be someone there to balance out the scales.

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