Chapter 5: "The Puppet's Lament: A Hero's Downfall"

Centurion navigated his penthouse apartment, his boots scuffing against the slick marble floor. He paused, noticing the vacant spaces where his collection had once been. He stared at the impressions left on the shelves, ghosts of the action figures spirited away. He saw the blank wall, no longer graced by his promotional posters. He touched the faded spot where his framed awards had hung.

He stumbled, his hand shooting out to grasp a nearby table for support. His fingers brushed against an empty glass, the faint residue of whiskey clinging to the surface. The scent of aged liquor lingered in the air, a constant reminder. He glanced at the cityscape visible through the panoramic window, a view he once surveyed with pride, a panorama of the city he had sworn to safeguard.

Now, he turned his back on it, shame creeping into his mind. He walked over to the counter, grabbing a bottle of whiskey before splashing a generous amount into a glass. The burn was welcomed as the liqour spread through his throat.

He looked over at his golden armor, standing in the corner of his room. These marks carried a story, and he would hate to be telling of it over again. A lot of villians have went down because of the work that he had done. What had he done to betray everyone.

He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, his eyes fixating on the swirling patterns. Crowd cheers, he saw, the gratitude in citizens eyes. He recognized the weight of responsibility that he carried. Another gulp of whisky, and another one into the glass, ignoring the glass and drinking it straight.

His phone vibrated on the counter, disrupting his thoughts. He saw the contact name, "Valiant," flash across the screen and he hit the reject button. He threw the phone at the opposite wall, breaking the glass and dislodging the battery. He had been betrayed.

He located another old phone in the drawer, and scrolled for someone else. He selected “oldest friend” and hit the call button. The phone rang and rang with no response. He cursed under his breath. They all did this to him.

He then searched for a family member. He waited for someone to pick it up. Finally, someone picked up and he was ready to explode. “Hello… is this a bad time?” came out slowly. “When is it not a bad time Michael?” came the shrill reply. “Mom come on, I-“ “Don’t try to act nonchalant like this didn’t hurt everyone” She stated. “Everyone hates you for this! Why make the situation worse for all parties!” “I just want to say that I screwed up… a lot. And because of that I messed up everyone… so I am sorry” he said. “Yes, you should be sorry. It’s come all the way over here and made our lives hell. Every time we see the news, it’s about you! How could you do this? To us, after everything we gave you!?” “I never asked, I just wanted-“ “No Michael! You are no longer welcome here as family, you are dead to us as of now. Have fun with whatever you are trying to do” and the call was swiftly cut.

Michael, formerly known as Centurion began to cry. Everyone was over, he was all alone. Every time he helped the world, he felt alone. Now that he had betrayed it, and everything was going down for a loop. The liquor started to take affect, and he began to get angry.

He located another person to blame for this. “Hello?” someone picked up “Why are you not helping me? Your so called friend” screamed Michael. “Who’s this…” stated the voice “It’s Centurion! Why aren’t you helping clear my name?” “You were taking those things right?” it came back. “We all knew this would happen.” “And no one tried telling me… I cant believe you” “We tried, we all tried. You didn’t listen so that’s your problem” “Get out of my life. I don’t want anything to do with you, with ANY OF YOU!” Michael screamed the phone and threw it to the ground.

He had finally finished with all of his past connections. He was finally done and he had only gotten more pissed off.

Centurion stumbled through his penthouse apartment, rifling through drawers and files. He ransacked through every item he owned, spilling everything and spreading it around. He found old news clippings, photos, anything to prove that Valiant was working against him. He can prove it, everyone had wronged him for this. And it was all of their fault. And all of them will learn.

He unearthed a folder labeled "Titan Industries," containing financial records and old correspondence. He remembered the long hours, trying to help Valiant because he loved him. It was supposed to be them, and now its gone because of Valiant.

He grabbed his tablet and tried to log in, but couldn’t at all remember anything. He kept punching it in, thinking that he knew what he was doing, until he was locked out permanently after exceeding the total amount of logins.

He cursed and threw the tablet against the wall, shattering the screen. He ran back over to his computer, desperate to get any information he could grasp from anyone. It was updating, and he couldn’t stop it. As it came to 99 percent, the power suddenly cut, and he was furious once again.

Every avenue for evidence only reminded him of how hopeless he was. No matter what he did, things would keep going wrong for him. Everything was breaking, nothing was correct. He felt as the true clown of the group.

Suddenly, he heard a noise outside of his apartment door. He froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He turned off the lights, and peaked through the peephole. He didn’t see anyone at all standing to greet him. No one to apologize. He peaked his head out, and looked around. A trail of breadcrumbs led to a flash drive. He looked left, he looked right, grabbed the flash drive, paranoid, before retreating back inside. He needed anything, he would even trust a piece of tech.

He inserted the flash drive into his computer. The screen flickered, then went completely dark. He panicked, thinking that this was another one of Valiant’s schemes. After waiting for a few moments, the monitor suddenly flashed on, and began to decrypt itself. A message presented itself after waiting a while. Centurion hesitated, his hand hovering over the mouse. He has no idea if this was from valiant of an attempt to find him and turn him in. Either way he needed this. He clicked, beginning the next action. But for who?

After some time, the message decrypted and it showed a series of documents and images. The first were bank statements, showing a series of large transactions made by Valiant to offshore accounts. Then he saw emails and text messages, seemingly confirming a conspiracy to undermine Centurion reputation, and how he should rot in jail.

Centurion stared at the evidence, his mind racing. It was all there. Clear, undeniable proof of Valiant’s treachery. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of vindication and rage. He felt so stupid, so gullible. He shouldve known the whole time.

A new message popped up on the screen: “Now you see the truth. Valiant has been working against you from behind the shadows. He wants to take everything from you, make sure you rot.”

Centurion was in shock. Everything he thought he knew was now a lie. Everyone who stated that they knew him was incorrect about who he was. They never did know and care about him, it was always about the fame of protecting this city. He couldn't believe the villain was the good guy here.

"There is a way to make him pay. Plant false evidence, and make him look like a terrorist". Centurion hesitated, his conscience warring with his desires for revenge. Framing any hero, especially Valiant for a crime was the last thing that he ever would do.

He started the process, and looked at the process. “Is this right.” “Right and wrong don’t exist” the message returned swiftly. “Only consequences”. As quick as that, Valiant’s fate was sealed, at least with Centurion’s current emotions.

He grappled with his conscience. He’ve always been a paragon of the universe, someone who does the right thing. The city’s protector, to do something like this would not only betray the other heroes, it would hurt them and allow the villians to rise and take over the city he long worked protecting. Now he faces his own complete destruction and if anything does this, he will feel as the clown of the universe. He thought. About his parent’s legacy, and how it would all be thrown away, for lies, and how it was all Valiant’s fault.

He weighed the consequences, knowing that it could destroy his reputation and land him in prison. The thought of watching Valiant reveling in his downfall was too much to bear. Valiant was all the only thing he had, now it was going to be over.

Centurion looked at his reflection in the computer screen. He saw a broken man, stripped of his honor and pride. He wanted Valiant to feel what he had been feeling, to lose everything. It was supposed to be him and no more.

He leaned forward, his finger hovering over the “accept” button. Years of pain versus doing one bad thing. Saving himself versus nothing. Everyone who wronged him and all that they have done versus making sure no one has anything. He thought about it all, and he knew what to do.

Centurion clicked "accept."

A new set of instructions appeared on the screen. They were detailed and precise, guiding him through the process of how to get everything done. Acquiring the materials, planting the evidence, ensure that Valiant was ruined.

His mind raced, going over every thing that he needed to do. Planting false evidence in Valiant’s office. Where to deliver. What time to deliver it and more. He even fabricated a digital trail to connect it back to him. Ensuring that the authorities would arrest him quickly. He knew that this would be insane, if anyone found out out how much he betrayed the city, the other villians would attack.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He didn’t care. He had been wronged, and the world was wrong. He was the only person who was on this side, and he knew that no one would ever betray him. If he himself was going to fall, then at least that meant that valiant would too.

He opened his eyes, his face hardened with determination. He prepared his materials that the flash drive stated. He slowly began to disappear all the money he had ever made. He sold all of his materials and made sure that he could make this as legit as possible.

He went around looking, and made the equipment himself. He drove to an abandoned warehouse in the industrial district, going through the informant’s instructions. He found a hidden compartment beneath a loose floorboard, containing a series of high-tech gadgets and weapons. He tested the equipment, familiarizing himself with its operation. He was now a master, a true person.

He started driving around, placing the evidence, and making sure that this evidence was never traced back to him. He set timers, and also started deleting records of himself and removing everything from his past.

He drove over to try to get Valiant to celebrate his betrayal of everything he stood for, and see his old friend with the same thing. It made him cry, but he could care less about that.

He drove around, to get different materials and drove back to the apartment. He removed any clothes that would reveal him and put them in a trash can. It made him upset as he could care less. He removed his sim card from his phone and shattered it as well. He was completely gone.

He stared at his reflection, staring back, his eyes filled with a cold and unsettling resolve. He no longer recognized the man staring back at him. He was at his lowest point. He was lost, and as he was lost, it became a new day.

He changed his mask again, and stared back with anger. Who was he to ever tell anyone what to do ever again.

The city that he once protected was now being betrayed at his own hand. He no longer cared. He knew that was going to come to bite him for what he has fully done.