In the Shadow

It was a horrible day, the moment that I realized I would never be allowed in the spotlight.

You know his name. I won't name him for copyright reasons. Oh, not that universe, or the other one. And he's been seen in both of those, the multiverses, song verses, whatever. Suffice it to say, you know the name.

Me? Yeah, you know my name too. Well, you think you do. I'm likely the twentieth or thirtieth clone or something. We die easy. We get the secondhand armor, and the side car, and the reject weapons that get bounced out of R&D. And secondhand memories. And secondhand ethics. Billions poured into the labs, and I'm the result.

It's not that I was looking for an opportunity, but after a while, being a step behind and in the literal dark of each and every press conference, it gets to you. That damned cape leaves a long shadow that eclipses more than a tiny ass. I've seen it enough to know.

So, finding ourselves at the top of a tall building, after vanquishing the villain, and Mister Shiny Hero quipping for the thousandth time how hard it's going to be to face the media tomorrow, the bright lights and false modesty... Well, considering I was the one who was bleeding, armor dented, likely poisoned, and needing to nurse the broken arm from the last escapade where the same thing happend, when he stood there trading insults while I took the hits, I may have wondered what I was doing this for. What all my previous clone-incarnations had done it for.

I may have had enough. I may have been pushed over the edge.

Well, I just returned the favor.