The city skyline shimmered under the late afternoon sun, glass towers catching the light like shards of gold. A camera crew swarmed the plaza, their lenses fixed on the man in the tailored supersuit, blue with golden accents, his golden blond hair slicked to perfection. Gamma Jack smiled for them, the kind of smile that didn’t just light up the frame, but seemed to demand it. He basked in the applause as if it were his birthright, radiating charm the way others might breathe.

When the microphones came forward, he delivered the lines they wanted: all gratitude, optimism, and neatly packaged heroism. “We do what we do because the world needs us,” he said, his voice smooth as silk, his eyes scanning the crowd for admiration. But behind that smile, the words carried a weight he didn’t explain.

He’d been thinking more and more about the future lately. About what the world would look like without enough of them, the Supers. Humanity, he believed, couldn’t afford to gamble its survival on chance. Strength, courage, and vision weren’t just qualities, they were necessities. And those who had them had a responsibility to lead the way.

Some would call it controversial. Others, dangerous. But Gamma Jack didn’t see it that way. Every life he saved, every adoring glance from a fan, every flash of his signature radiation, it all fed into the same conviction. The stronger the legacy he left behind, the brighter the world’s future would be.

As the last question faded and the cameras cut away, he caught his reflection in a shop window. Perfect. Powerful. Necessary. The smile lingered, not for the press, not for the crowd, but for himself.

Because Gamma Jack knew the truth: history remembered those who built it… and he intended to be unforgettable.