[Admin note: Powerstar is on indefinite hiatus, and is here for archival purposes. However, the character has since made an appearance in the Weaver’s Knight serial.]
In a world of power and secrecy, where adventure and intrigue are commonplace behind a veil of shadows, one hero has been empowered with a fantastic gift. Powerstar strives to protect the innocent, tear the veil, and reveal the truth to the world. However, his flashy powers and amazing resilience are as yet unable to overcome the deliberate blindness imposed on the mundane world.
In spite of his daily patrols over the most media-saturated city in the world and titanic battles against vicious Empowered rivals, to the rest of the world Powerstar does not exist.
Explore the core setting of WonderQuest — the world of the Empowered — with its mightiest hero as he searches for a way to reveal wonder to a world where wonder is everywhere, yet hidden from all save a lucky few.
For ease of reading the story in the correct order, the chapters are:
Prologue: Power Rising — Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Chapter One: Powerstar Does Not Exist — Part 1, Part 2,
Chapter Two: The Complex — Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
*JOHN! Oh God get up get up get up!* Heather sent in terrified desperation.
*…working…on it…* he replied woozily, pouring all his power into his force field. The two agents had knocked him back to the ground, and were doing everything in their considerable power to keep him there. It felt like being in the middle of a bell being rung by a pair of hyper-steroidal Quasimodos. Worse, whatever Agent Martinez had done to him hurt. It was hard to think, and forcing the power to bend to his will was making his eyes bulge from the strain. Most disturbingly, it didn’t seem to be going away.
Powerstar looked up impassively at his attackers, but his mind raced. My force field’s stronger than that cannon, he decided, but I’ve only been at this for a few days, and they must have backup. He didn’t even have to think about which one was the most dangerous. The flying man on her right — his left — was clearly an obedient junior officer, while the creep on her left was an insubordinate equivalent. Both men were strikingly ordinary — medium height and build, short brown hair, neatly cut. They wore visors instead of sunglasses, but were otherwise the very image of the black-suited enforcers of urban myth. The woman was darker-skinned, like John, with black hair tied in a bun, and a severe expression. Her suit was less cookie-cutter, but still black, severe, and business-like. Her eyes were dark, whatever their color.
*Hey, honey,* Powerstar sent to KXLX telepathically.
Ah! Heather jumped in her seat. Don’t do that!
*Sorry, love,* John thought with a chuckle. *I can’t help it. I love this.*
Maria frowned as she looked at the darkening sky. She remembered when her short cut was faster and safer than taking the bus. Now, though, it seemed like you had to live in Beverly Hills just to avoid some banger on a bad trip—
"Hey, man, check that action!"
—or punks who did their thinking below the belt.
"Oh. My. God."
John’s smile wavered slightly. So did his body, as it hovered three inches from the floor. Heather gaped at the figure floating before her, her eyes trying to slide away from the silver-blue halo flickering around John’s body. She raised one finger and her mouth worked silently. After trying — and failing — to form several different words, Heather collapsed into a recliner, still speechless.
The first thing John saw was an angel. She was exquisite, with strawberry blonde hair, a round, freckled face, intense green eyes, and a lithe, athletic body. A feeling of lightness filled him as he stared up at her, as if he wasn’t quite solid. She was holding his hand. Strangely, John couldn’t see any wings.
"Hey," the angel said.
"Hey," John rasped.
"You had us worried," she continued. Her eyes glistened slightly.
"John! Chuck! You’re just in time!" A tall, large woman waved to the computer jockeys as they entered a cavernous white room. A partially demolished cityscape was sprawled across the floor, and various figures, vehicles and containers were along one wall. Behind the lady who greeted them, several other people were setting up a machine that had a nozzle aimed at the far end of the "city."
"Susan!" John smiled and waved back. "Is Blitzreich ready to die yet?"
"Hey, John! You gonna fiddle with that shot all day?"
John Wilson looked up from his Mac as he favored his cubicle-neighbor with a confident smile. "Perfection, Chuck, is in the eye of the beholder. And when twenty million people are going to behold our work, it’s my job to make them see perfection."
Chuck laughed. "Talented and modest. No wonder you’re the darling of the computer effects department."