Chapitre 1: The Soldier and his problems
A city full of bustle with towering skyscrapers with lower buildings hiding within their shadows. One of these buildings held a flashing neon sign in front of it read; "Sleezy's Bar", and whether it was open or closed.
There sat a man crying bollocks out of his eyes. He was drunk and still trying to get past the traumatization during the Chinese-States war. His friends had died often, and he somehow survived. Life was very cruel, and nothing could fix that.
A T.V. was in the background spewing proper news. One of the only few who only reported facts which was a rare sight to see in the modern media.
The report would be reporting as the man picked up; "Another day another life! They used to say. As our neighborhood spiderman saved children on a bus that was close to falling off the edge of the trans-states bridge."
People around the man looked at the man's pitiful state that he was now. Most assume he lost his wife or just generally had a bad time. Although no one could probably guess that it was war trauma which haunted him like a sorrowful ghost, and only drinking could wash it away.
The current state of the United States of America was grand as corruption was at it's all time low, and that they were getting massive money from China via war debt for losing. The government in it's entirety was debt free. With that the country flourished, and even still it could pull debt from other countries.
Soldiers like him had saved a lot of money to live his life, and so he didn't need to work for awhile due to the paycheck the government gave him for serving. It was a common sight for soldiers like him to be in this way after the war. The amount of disgusting things in this war was beyond help. Nothing even compared to the last two world wars. Hundreds of millions dead.
Sleezy's bar was a hotspot for known for being a hotspot for villains. Still, those who are VIP know the man as 'the soldier who has seen the war, been of the war, and survived of the war'. They know his story, the nasty, messed up stuff in that war.
The man picked up a glass which he was holding, and began to take a sip. It wasn't alcohol but simply tea. He was here to be depressed, and this was the cheapest thing here. It was a known rule of the bar to pay to stay, but he was just here. Soon enough one could say that he was here almost all the time.
Soon enough the place was surrounded by SWAT and superheroes alike. Most villains were trapped now, and probably had enough time to escape underground. But not the soldier, he never planned on escaping his troubles. He'd just drink them away. In his tea cup ice would bash each other shaking violently. One could see the bartender and this man just calmly sitting there as if nothing was happening outside.
Bartender would speak in a calm, hushed tone,"You know, this business has been good ain't it."
The soldier would laugh coarsely and speak with a dry voice, "It certainly has. Thanks for having me this time, George."
George would reply in the same tone, "You know you could just run with those people instead of sitting here answering god know how many questions."
The soldier would shake his head and reply, "Some days are cold, and some days are hot, George. I'd rather drink my problems away. For example, my trauma. Sometimes George, I wish it'd all end. The problems of this mortal earth. There's nothing good about it, George."
George would be whistling to himself while listening to the soldier put out his heart, and then replied in a calm demeanor, "Yeah, yeah. You know, you could get a job. It's a good way to meet new people." He'd hint at his tab this time, in a indirect way.
The soldier laughed with a little bit more energy and spoke in a drunk, happy type of tone, "You know that my mental state isn't good enough for a regular job, George. Only crooks would accept me, or perhaps the odd jobs here and there. You know that I won't do some those jobs. I'm a soldier, a vet. I'm not wanting to further my country into shame, and probably get beat up in the process."
Soon enough, the door broke down with a swat holding a battering ram. Only finding George in a red, fancy type of shirt, and the soldier wearing a shirt recording the amount of death, rescued, and his platoon number on his back. All of these during the Chinese-States war. "Hands up! You're under arrest for cooperating with terrorists!" The swat yelled.
The soldier turned to the swat, "I'm just here for a drink, ser. To drown out all my sorrows, you know." The soldier returned to his original position, trying to get some rest as he didn't want to deal with this shit right now.
The swat tried to make the soldier do what they want. Just then they realized what was on his back. The amount of pure dead rescues would be certainly traumatizing. Even still they had to get information out of him.
"Get the hell up, soldier!" The swat screamed in a loud voice to hope to get the military out of the soldier.
The soldier lazily replied, "That's a tone of voice I haven't replied in awhile, ser. I would like to get up, but my body probably would just collapse. So with that the case, I'll stay right where I am." The soldier was telling the truth.
The swat would sigh over his radio, and spoke, "Uncooperative Suspect of Coordination with terrorists." Then the rest of the superheroes stormed the building at this time. Looking at the soldier in his depressed state. These were small-time heroes that weren't well known, and cooperated with the police and swat.
The superheroes could see the same with the swat, two men, sitting a bar chatting with each as if no one else was there at the time. One of the hypnotic heroes to take information to uncooperative suspects. And so. One of them did. A woman who was wearing a suit unlike most superheroes with spandex.
"Ser. Would you like to tell us what happened?" The superhero spoke out, in a commanding type of tone. Utilizing her superpower of command, which was usually very powerful.
"About what, ma'am?" The soldier spoke out in a lazy type of voice. From the looks of it, the soldier was already succumbed with her superpower.
The superhero would cough, and said, "About what happened here? Where did all these people go?" The superhero spoke in a clean type of professional voice.
The soldier grimaced, he didn't want to put up the trouble. "Well, ma'am. Here I was, sitting at the bar. Minding my own business. Speaking to bartender right yonder here." He'd point were he was sitting, "Stuff about me getting a job to pay off my ever growing tab, and how I won't be able to get a job even if I tried due to circumstances. Until these people under the pretense of 'taking out the terrorists' came in here, and rudely interrupted my nice chat. And ma'am. I'm not sure if there was any people here besides Mr. George and I. G'day."
The soldier turned around, and was seemingly immune to the command that was coming next. The superhero was irked in a irritated way. Due to how the soldier acted, and his response. And slammed her hand against the bar. Which made a loud slam like noise, "Did I tell you turn around!?" She snorted.
The soldier replied in a cool tone, "Ma'am. You certainly did not. But when you demand information from me. It's very rude, and disorderly in my own opinion. Now. Yer demands are ruining my mood."
The superhero got even more irked, not only was this man giving out not quality information that she was expecting. Even more than that this man was immune to her superpower! It really got on her nerves. Even the other superheroes were surprised that this man was immune to her usually working power.
"Who the hell do you think you are!?" The shouted in a disorderly fashion from her usually professional tone. The soldier was not yet startled by her tone.
"Well ma'am. I think I'm a citizen of the United States. And I have the right to remain silent, and not answer you. Look at the 9th right of the constitution. Ma'am. Now. I also think that I have the right to drink all my sorrows away. Trying to forget all the trauma during the Chinese war. Now if you excuse me, I'd like to not be bothered." Then the female superhero realized why her power wasn't working.
She covered her mouth before saying anything, and looked at the back of the soldiers shirt. The pure amount of people who he tried to save, but died in his hands was counted in the thousands, and only the amount of people who he saved only counted in the hundreds. No wonder that he was not wanting to mess around with this bullshit. He was already was dealing with a lot on his plate.
The female superhero would get some information out of the bartender, and left the soldier alone. As the soldier fell asleep on the bar, drifting, and drifting. A never ending sleep of non-nightmarish material. The soldier dreamed vigorously for once in his life.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone