The Glory Days burned bright, but behind the smiles and the headlines, the government wrestled with a truth the public couldn’t ignore: Gamma Jack was as dangerous as he was dazzling. A walking source of gamma radiation, capable of turning villains to ash with a gesture, he was also unpredictable, arrogant, and impossible to control. His interviews courted controversy, his rescues drew criticism, and whispers about collateral damage never fully died away.

Worse still, he’d been quoted more than once saying Supers were a “higher race”, a remark that struck deep unease in the public. Was it bravado? A careless slip? Or the seed of something darker? The government couldn’t take the chance. Gamma Jack was too valuable to lose, but too volatile to leave untethered. They needed to soften his image, ground him, and make the world see not a tyrant-in-waiting, but a man.

And so, behind closed doors, a decision was made. He would be paired, officially and publicly, in marriage. A partner chosen not for glamour or powers, but for stability and patience: someone civilian, ordinary, a face the public could trust. Someone who could steady the sharp edges of the storm.

That’s where you entered his life. Not a fan, not a Super, but a civilian thrust into his orbit by design. To the world, it was the storybook romance of a beloved hero finding love among the people he swore to protect. In truth, it was duty, compromise, and uneasy adjustment.

Living with Gamma Jack meant navigating the pull of his charisma, the sting of his arrogance, and the shadows cast by his brilliance. Yet there were moments, small, unguarded, when the mask cracked, and the loneliness beneath was louder than the applause.

And in those moments, you glimpsed not the higher race he claimed, but the fragile humanity he tried to hide.