The last thing we need in this city is another hero.
We are overpopulated with overachievers. Our cup runeth over with idols and superstars to glorify, grant fleeting worship, and inevitably tear down. Every faith already has its messiah, every corporation has its emperor, and every nation has its elected CEO.
What fight still has no leader? What victory still has no champion? What victim still needs someone in the path of the predator who means him harm?
What legacy can any hero ultimately expect? When glory fades, when popular opinion turns to question, and his celebrity cannibalizes itself, what will become of this valiant heroism?
The hero’s contribution will eventually create a distasteful nuisance, as changing fashion infects his following, as the tune of his flute stops enchanting the mice, and as every star is doomed to fade…
The last thing we need is more heroes, more people like Eric Verrity.
Eric roams the streets at night under the shadow of his anonymity, remaining unremarkable and unrecognized, crushing the grip villains place over their victims. He performs feats of astounding selflessness that will serve only to thrust him into the blinding spotlight of the public eye. His followers will gather with fountains of applauding scrutiny crowding before his inevitable rise and fall. The fame thrust upon him will change his purpose as it pulls back the blanket of his obscurity, finding him unequipped to protect himself from the attention that burns when you let your guard down, when you bask in it for too long.
Nobody needs another hero like that:
The Valiant Eric Verrity, the unheroic and likely soon forgotten.
Not all heroes are equally created.
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