Prologue

I have never known an easy life; from the very beginning, I was at a massive disadvantage, seemingly destined to be handed over to less-than-desirable parents. My father is a good-for-nothing alcoholic, leaving nothing but bruises all over my body. My mother is no better, and I'm supposed to look up to them as role models - what a cruel joke.

Is this the life I am supposed to imitate? To become an overweight alcoholic deadbeat, struggling to put food on the table, or to marry an equally useless woman?

In this world of superheroes, I clung to the hope that one might swoop in and rescue me from this misery, just like in the TV shows I watched countless times. But such stories only belong to the realms of fiction, not to people like me; it seems like the universe leaves some of us to taste the bitterness of darkness as a stark contrast to those who enjoy the light.

You've probably heard the famous saying, haven't you? "Without light, there can be no darkness", and vice versa.

As I grew older, I abandoned any hopes for a savior. Superheroes were not meant to protect the poor and downtrodden; they existed to safeguard the interests of the rich and powerful. The reality I faced was harsh, but I learned to accept it, recognizing that my only salvation lay in my own hands, not in the fantastical visions of superheroes.

At a tender age, I learned the harsh truth that life was entwined with politics. The right amount of money had the power to turn what's wrong into right and what's right into wrong. The concepts of good and evil proved to be far from objective, and different countries had their own contradicting sets of rules.

What I perceived as good, others might consider bad, blurring the lines between morality and perception. Yet, I held on to my beliefs, convinced that something existed beyond mere subjectivity.

Amidst the chaos of my upbringing, I only found solace during the brief moments my neglectful parents lay passed out on the bed due to their uncontrollable addictions. During those moments, I'd watch the news about superheroes consistently prevailing over villains - a recurring theme not only in movies but in the world as well.

Yet, my mind wandered to an alternate reality, one in which the roles were reversed. What if supervillains were the oppressed ones? This notion intrigued me, perhaps because I had grown to despise the so-called heroes. I couldn't shake the feeling that they were nothing more than fantastical illusions, or else I wouldn't have endured such suffering.

Despite the hardships, my life wasn't entirely devoid of light. I was fortunate to have the best friend one could ever wish for - my neighbor, Edward Michaelson. Unlike my parents, Edward's mother was a genuinely good woman, though life had dealt her difficult hand. Since Edward's father passed away, his mother had been striving to make ends meet by any means possible. But unlike my parents, there was an unspoken understanding between Edward and his mother. He knew that everything she did was for his benefit, the exact opposite to my own unfortunate situation.

"Michael! What the hell are you doing? You've been staring at me for a full minute!" Edward's voice abruptly interrupted my inner monologue. Should I just sucker punch him in the nuts? Yeah, maybe I should. But where was I? Ah, damn it! I'm trying to remember!

Let me introduce myself properly - I'm Michael Wilson, and this is the beginning of how I became a supervillain. I don't have any superpowers, so let's stick to villain for now.

"You're talking to yourself again, aren't you?" Edward brought me back to reality. Despite acne covering about 45% of his face, Edward had a handsome face. I never understood how his eyes turned out to be blue when neither of his parents had blue eyes, but I suppose that's typical for kids in Ohio. Surprisingly, we were the same height, both around 5'9".

Edward preferred to shave his head since maintaining his hair became too much of a hassle. But what did that matter? We were both content sitting on the floor, gazing at the sunset - our daily escape from the troubles of "our" world.

"You know you're a piece of shit, Edward!" I didn't hesitate to shoot back at him as he had ruined my mojo.

"We're literal pieces of shit, both you and I," Edward retorted, always armed with a sharp tongue, and I had to give him credit; it was quite a clever comeback.

"Have you heard about Apex Protector's recent rescue?" Edward asked in a hushed yet excited tone. He knew how much I disliked superheroes, and I appreciated him being considerate of my feelings.

"What about it?" I inquired, knowing that Edward was eager to share the news. As his friend, I felt it was only fair to lend a listening ear to his excitement.

"HE STOPPED A FREAKING PLANE FROM CRASHING AND SAVED HUNDREDS OF LIVES! THAT IS LIKE 1X100!" Edward's enthusiasm was contagious, and all I could manage was a faint smile and an awkward thumbs-up.

"Superheroes are so cool! Say, would you hate me if I became one?" Edward's question struck me as odd, especially since he already knew my stance on the matter.

"Of course, I would; what the hell kind of question is that!" I responded without hesitation, and Edward burst into laughter, which made me chuckle too. We both knew there was no way I could hate the only person who gives me a reason to keep going.