LUKE STANLEY
I’ve wanted it as long as I can remember. To be blessed with great power. To destroy evil and protect the innocent. So why when it finally happened, when I finally got powers, was it the ability to turn into clouds?
The world had grown much darker since the onset of superpowers. Children dream of that ultimate gift, the ability to fly, to breathe fire, shoot lasers. But many don’t think about how they would actually use them. As it turns out, most use them for evil. Crime rates have soared. Murder, robbery, arson. Legality became a fleeting ideal rather than binding law. Despite the world’s condition, however, stood a brave few who seek to restore order. Many of them would not wish for titles or accolades, yet children with big ideas and awestruck eyes would label them... superheroes. Niall Flynn was one such hero, but he had his doubts any child would ever recognise him as one.
After receiving his powers, he took on the moniker of Nimbus, the Cloud hero. But what was one to do with the strange ability to turn into clouds? A cloud could not be ‘touched’ in the typical sense. He could not punch as a cloud, nor kick. Anything that touched him would pass right through. Craving justice so deeply, Niall would not give up on his dreams. He trained for months on end, trying to work around the strange power. His greatest discovery was that he was not always a cloud. He could revert to his human form at will, even down to just certain parts of his body. That discovery was enough for him. He set out to fight for justice.
*
Nimbus strode into the dark, rain-soaked alleyway. Rain had a habit of falling right through him, something he was thankful for. It kept him dry, focused. At the end of the alley, a group of thugs were harassing a child. He'd heard the shouting as he walked by. Others would ignore it, turn their heads and keep moving. But not him. Whoever they were, whatever they’d done, he’d make them pay. As a cloud, Nimbus made no audible footsteps. The thugs, so engrossed in their tormenting, failed to notice his approach.
'Oi,' Nimbus shouted, his thick Irish accent plain to see, ‘hands off the boy. How ‘bout you pick on someone yer’ own size.'
The thugs ceased their beating and turned to face him. They were all wearing similar outfits. Black boots, leather jackets, jeans. He could spot their gang insignia emblazoned on the back of their jackets, ‘Sons of Iron’, they read. Upstarts, one of many new gangs that have popped up in the emergence of powers. Heroes were few and far between, nowhere near enough to keep these people in check. At first, they looked serious, but as soon as they saw his form, they erupted into laughter.
'And who the hell are you supposed to be? Has the Michelin man come to exact his revenge? If I'd have known stealing those tires would stir you, I'd have stolen even more!' His friends cackled around him.
‘Leave the boy alone. Now,’ Nimbus commanded.
‘Do you have any idea who this kid is? He's the son of that damn oil tycoon. Founder of Blanc. Co. I'll tell you what, help us out here, and you can have a share of the spoils. Trust me, he’s got plenty enough to go around.’
'Temptin’ offer, but enough talk.'
The thugs were happy to oblige, rushing in at once. There were five in total. I like those odds. The first roared in with a hook that phased right through him. The thug was caught off guard, and the others were shocked too. Nimbus spun back around, kicking toward the thug's side. He raised his guard, trying to block, but the kick went straight through him. Nimbus planted his foot after the kick, spun his other leg up backwards, the cloud faded, raw heel drove deep into the thug’s face. He crashed into the ground, unconscious. The others were in disbelief.
'Who the hell are you!' one shouted.
'Freak!' yelled another.
'Yeah, bloody freak!' the last two echoed.
The young child ran in-between the group, his face still bloodied and bruised.
'He’s Nimbus! A superhero!'
Niall's heart skipped a beat. He knows me? Someone actually knows me? In his entire tenure as a hero, not a single person had ever known his name. Heroes were required to outline their details on an official registry, but nobody ever read that. Only the big stars who took down supervillains or saved hundreds were the ones in the limelight. All Niall had ever done as Nimbus was beat up a few gang members and muggers. It's all he could do. His powers would not be able to withstand the power of a real supervillain. He didn’t have the output to contend either. The only way he could fight was with his raw physical strength, which was completely and utterly human. A cloud cannot punch, but a man can. That's how he fights. But what would a man be to a god? He was not foolish enough to try and find out. So, thugs it was.
'Just who are you kid? How do you know my name?' Nimbus asked, with a reserved curiosity.
'I’m Ben, but my friends call me Benny. My parents call me “Benjamin”,' he said, imitating a posh voice which made Nimbus laugh.
The thugs were hanging back, likely attempting to put their limited brain cells together to formulate a plan. Nimbus stepped toward Benny and knelt.
'It’s not safe for you here. Run along home and let me handle the rest, okay?'
Benny looked like every part of him wanted to plant himself in the alley and watch the remaining fight unfold, but he nodded his head and ran as fast as his little legs could carry him.
'Now that’s there’s no risk of injury, let’s wrap this up.'
'Oh, it would be my pleasure,' one of the thugs replied. He cackled then unleashed a pure beam of energy from his eyes. Nimbus jumped into the air as it sliced through him. One cloud became two, briefly, before quickly rejoining and falling toward the thug. I didn’t expect powers; things just got a little harder. He almost hit my core too. I need to be careful. His core was his one identifiable weakness as a cloud. A condensed sphere of golden energy at the centre of his chest. As a cloud, it was the only physical part of him, and it acted as his true body. If destroyed, he would likely die. Nimbus reformed his body and crashed into the thug before quickly dissipating again. Another thug grabbed at him, slipping straight through and crashing into his ally.
Nimbus had to be resourceful; it was his only option. In truth, he hated his power, he wished he had super strength, telekinesis, something truly powerful. He wanted to fight super villains. Rescue was for paramedics and firefighters. Heroes should be out there toppling syndicates, battling self-proclaimed gods. Nimbus was selfish, he wanted to chase glory—a truly human pursuit. Perhaps his power was a punishment, a lesson that needed learning. The cruel result of his endless lust for power. He hated it, but he wouldn’t give up either. If I can’t do what I want, I’ll do what I can. When Nimbus thought too hard about it, he felt his control slipping. The pain of his inadequacy, the struggle against his ability. The clouds that made up his body were typically white, but when he grew sad, or angry, they grew dark and grey. His body itself rumbled like thunder. As a cloud, Nimbus did not have a discernible face, his pain was his own. The thugs who prior were so eager to mock him had shifted completely. Sweat was beading on their foreheads, and their hands trembled slightly. They were scared.
He retracted his clouds, revealing his bare arms and legs. The thugs closed in, like starving predators locked on his scent. Nimbus let go of his control, his rage and pain taking over as he tore through the thugs' defences. Four against one he fought, punching, kicking, tearing and scratching like a wild beast. His opponents spotted his bare flesh and homed in on it. Amid Nimbus’ ferocious strikes, the thugs countered, landing blows against his flesh. The pain was sharp, yet Nimbus did not react. Refusing to cease his onslaught of attacks. His foes began to fall, one by one, their bodies giving out against the ferocious tide of his fury. Nimbus was beginning to tire, falling to one knee, as one thug remained standing. Niall’s arms were cut and bloodied, his legs too. Dammit, he thought to himself, I'm still too weak. I've always been too weak. His energy spent completely, his cloud form faded away, revealing a man drenched in sweat, wearing the face of despair. The thug pounced on him. Pinning him hard against the floor.
'Not so tough now are you?' he mocked. 'I’m going to blast a hole right through your head now!'
'Wait!' screamed a small voice from the other end of the alley.
Benny? Why is he still here? 'Benny get out of here! This is no place for you! Leave me!'
Benny had tears streaming down his face as he shook his head. 'I won’t leave. You can do this, Nimbus. I’ve always believed in you! I read about you in the local paper when you chased down that purse thief. I hate reading the newspaper, I only do it because my parents make me. It’s all dreadfully boring, except for the parts about heroes. From the moment I read about you, you were my favourite. Cloud powers are so amazing. Ever since I was little, I dreamt of reaching up and touching them, or soaring through them. My parents rarely allow me to leave the manor, so I watched the clouds from my window. Looking up at them, they always seemed so…free. I don’t need to look up anymore, because you’re right in front of me. You are my hero Nimbus! So, get up and beat him!'
Something inside of Niall shifted, something that he had never felt before. All this time, all this pain, anguish, he shouldered it alone. He had been fighting crime for some time, but had he ever truly been a hero? A hero is someone who inspires hope, who lifts others up and fights for justice. A hero is someone people believe in. This whole time, he had only been fighting for himself. But today was different. For the first time in his life, he had someone who believed in him and was fighting for something greater. He was fighting for Benny. Mustering all the strength he could, a strength he had never been able to find prior, he dissipated again. The thug fell to the ground as Nimbus rose behind him. His dark grey clouds grew white, then for the first time, gold. Electricity crackled inside of him, golden and pure. The thug hurried to his feet and unleashed a beam of energy from his eyes. It passed right through Nimbus as he walked forward unaffected. He clenched his fist as the power within him surged. He charged it up then unleashed it, colliding with the Thug’s chest, a bolt of golden lightning blitzed forward and blasted the Thug away.
Nimbus retracted his clouds and fell to the ground as he looked over to Benny. On his face was not fear, judgement or mockery, it was pure awe and wonder. He rushed over to help Niall back to his feet.
'That was so cool!' he exclaimed.
'Ha-ha,' Niall chuckled, 'I guess it was, wasn’t it?'
After the chaos, Niall sat with Benny as they waited for the police to arrive. Benny’s parents were also coming to pick him up. They exchanged stories and laughs. Niall learned a lot about Benny. His favourite food, his best friend, his hobbies, his least favourite chores. Just sitting here, talking with this innocent child, felt better than anything else he had ever done in his entire life.
Right before he left, Benny turned back to Niall and said, 'Thank you, Nimbus, you’re my hero!'
Nimbus beamed back at him as he watched Benny run to his parents. Fancy that, me, someone's hero. I guess I don’t need to fight gods to be a hero. After all, people look to the sky for hope, and the sky, is the dominion of the clouds.
Luke Stanley is a Sydney-based writer with a passion for collecting and creating. With a house full to the brim with blocks, books, models and comics, Luke draws on this myriad of inspiration to craft massive worlds with deep histories and inventive powers. When not deep in said worlds, Luke enjoys talking ad nauseam to loved ones about his vast array of special interests.
