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Unheroic Times - Chapter 2
🕑 Added 2025-09-20 02:00:08 +0000 UTCChapter 2 — Dangers of the Modern World
Monday, August 14th
26 years after the world ended.
From the ticking of my wristwatch, it has been almost six days since I left the workshop.
I have not eaten or drunk anything in that time. It was lax of me to slip out of human habits, and I aim to return to them as soon as I complete this entry.
At least that is the greatest of my guilt at the moment.
I have reconciled with my mentor and enacted some plans for my future. As before, I understand that I must face the greater evil, but I am still not prepared. The timeline here is fuzzy and confusing, but I wish for more of it, always. There will never be enough time to prepare, but I hope for at least enough for a fighting chance.
I have been monitoring the skies again. Each day, more stars disappear, falling dark at a timescale that doesn't mesh at all with the idea of a regular entity travelling towards them. It takes no time at all for the stars to vanish, no delay between their final light flickering out and knowing that they had gone.
Something — or someone, more likely — isn’t just destroying these stars. They are consuming their life, removing them from existence and perhaps taking away everything that ever was of them.
There is no gradual dimming. No gentle fade. Nor is there a cataclysmic explosion that might be expected from the larger stars. No remnants left behind, no glorious endings.
Simply nothing.
Worlds stolen away forever.
I shall not allow it to happen to this world.
For all of her berating herself for not eating or drinking, the thing that Archimedi really regretted missing due to her time in the workshop was her Saturday morning anime. It was a simple ritual, one that had lasted for longer than most, and it felt simply wrong to break it.
Time to remedy that.
During her tinkering and tutoring in the workshop, Archimedi had been monitoring the skies again. Everything she saw unnerved her, and Dr Steele had been just as perplexed by the odd stellar activity. There really was nothing else that could explain it.
Eureka was evidently greedily grabbing stars from the sky as she headed back towards Archimedi’s planet.
Now though, armed with a new belt of significantly more powerful tools, Archimedi felt more prepared than ever to take on almost anything. Perhaps she wouldn’t defeat her mother, but maybe she could talk to her, or dissuade her from bringing any more harm to this planet. Surely she would listen to the pleas of her daughter?
Steele had laughed at that idea, but it seemed just as likely to work on her mother as any weapon would. It was another option at least, and it gave Archimedi a little extra boost of reassurance.
Admittedly, that was more likely due to her steadier state of mind than it was to having a selection of more powerful toys to play with. Her previous arsenal had been more than enough to deal with any terrestrial threat, and there was a good reason why Archimedi had refused to continue making more powerful machines a couple of years back.
Simply put, the world was very unlikely to withstand their usage.
Fortunately – or unfortunately – there were a large number of detailed records of the devastation that Eureka’s weapons had caused to the planet. Reading through them in her early years training with Dr Steele, Archimedi immediately became more cautious about using her own devices. Her early attempts at a stun gun had knocked out an entire country of people, while her seismic boots had caused earthquakes that lasted for several days, but at least neither of those had shattered the planet into microscopic pieces.
At least one of the devices on Archimedi’s toolbelt right now was easily capable of a feat like that. It would need to be for what she would need to use it for.
Just thinking about it left Archimedi feeling a bit more detached than she would prefer.
It was probably worth getting back into the swing of this ‘being human’ thing for a bit.
Fetching a glass of water and a bowl of cereal, Archimedi settled onto her sofa to reset herself. Time to decompress and experience the world was important, Dr Jones had been very helpful with forcing her to acknowledge that. Dr Steele had been less helpful, pushing Archimedi to focus on work, but her mentor had also relented to the benefits of relaxation time now. Even with less time spent training, Archimedi found herself more able to focus on improving herself and her creations when she wasn’t purely thinking about that.
Nestling herself comfortably into her cushions, Archimedi flicked on the enormous screen covering nearly an entire wall of her living room. She barely ever changed the channel, so of course anime reruns were currently showing. This was an episode from earlier in the month, but it would be pleasant to watch again. Plus, she needed to catch up from Saturday’s episode, which meant at least an hour or so of television time…
After a couple of seconds, parts of Archimedi’s mind began to wander. Not all of it, some was still fervently focused on the television, but it was difficult for all of Archimedi’s mind to be occupied at once by anything that she hadn’t personally created – there just wasn’t enough complexity to it. As much as Archimedi loved distracting herself with the bright intrigue of human entertainment, there was just too much processing space within her to be used up by something as simple as that.
Maybe she could write her own show. That could be fun. A show inspired by the ones she loved, with clear heroes and villains and cool transformations and magical princesses and amazing dresses and mech battles – maybe not mech battles – and-
Or maybe she could continue that five million page fanfiction she had been writing a few months ago. She could finally finish it and help promote her rarepair with some much needed content, goodness knows there was far too little of it already, maybe she could inspire some new creators, maybe she could-
Or maybe she should actually go back to the workshop. There was still so much she could do. She could try miniaturising all of her equipment and combine more of her tools together. She could go back to working on her sword again, the poor thing had been neglected in the past week. She could go back to her early creations, she if there was anything there she had missed that might help her, she cou-
There were so many possibilities.
Too many.
Inevitably, she opened her smaller screen, scrolling to HeroWatch. That was productive at least. It was always useful to keep track of the antics of the other heroes.
While Archimedi was absolutely the most powerful hero on her world, she wasn’t the most popular, nor the most well-known. Various hero teams around the globe dealt with everything from minor problems — of which there were few — all the way up to world-ending threats. Archimedi generally only got involved in the higher level stakes, and when she did, there was rarely much coverage.
When Archimedi got involved, there wasn’t much to show of the fight.
Not even half way through the episode, Archimedi’s antennae started twitching. The first screen shut down as her attention shifted entirely to the crisis unfolding on her second screen.
The so-called Twin-Turbo heroes Rotor and Motor had confronted a new villain over France. Archimedi didn’t recognise the villain, but she did recognise the gauntlet she was wearing. The distinctive yellow and black banding, along with the structure of the segmented rings, identified it as a terraforming device.
A planet-scale terraforming device.
Eureka-tech.
Before her spoon had hit the bowl, Archimedi was halfway across the world.
The most difficult part about moving at light speed was always the impact on the surroundings. If she felt like it, Archimedi could have made a beeline — she groaned at the unintended pun — straight through the planet towards the villain. While that would have been fast, and efficient, and no issue at all for Archimedi, it would have absolutely destroyed the planet.
That was one of the things her mentor had helped her come to terms with. The disparity in power between Archimedi and other heroes was one thing, but the gradual realisation that she could destroy an entire planet with a careless step was not just alienating, but also worrying. Her actions were absolute. She needed to be certain of her intentions before she did anything.
So she had a system.
Firstly, when travelling, she would leave the planet’s atmosphere. It was easier that way. No need to worry about hurricanes or tornados, or the flight paths of commercial travel. Archimedi did keep track of all current flight paths at all times, just to be safe, but there was always a risk. Risks were to be avoided if at all possible.
Then there was the teleporter issue. Archimedi had tried using a teleporter previously, believing that her calculations were correct, but had failed to account for the difference in her own biology properly. It had taken several terrifying seconds before Archimedi had restored her correct dimensions, mere moments before the planet had been pulled apart by the tidal forces of her body surrounding it.
As it turned out, teleporting a daughter of Eureka was perfectly viable, assuming you didn’t especially care about whatever previously existed where you ended up. After that, the teleporters became strictly for human use. Maybe Archimedi could fix the issue with a little more tinkering, but again, the risk was too great.
Next on the list: introduce herself to the currently-engaged heroes and local authority as soon as she arrived on the scene. After some early-career misunderstandings in which law enforcement and even fellow heroes had attempted to attack her, Archimedi had made it a policy to make things exceptionally clear as soon as she arrived.
To that end, Archimedi had developed her own holographic technology for task delegation. Even before she carefully landed on the Parisian streets, one of her holograms was talking to the mayor while another was informing Twin-Turbo of her imminent arrival.
The mayor frowned as Archimedi herself arrived. The hologram was at the superhero’s usual height of just over five-feet – slightly shorter than the mayor herself – while Archimedi was currently almost half-a-foot taller.
Archimedi blushed and tried to ignore the disparity. The excitement sometimes got to her, and ever since the teleporter incident, it had been an unfortunate habit that the prospect of heroics ended up increasing her size.
“This is a higher level threat than your city is prepared for,” Archimedi continued where her hologram had started. “I need a complete cordon of the area. Total evacuation will not be possible, but a perimeter must be established around the river. Twin-Turbo will assist with logistics.”
The superhero twins were currently arguing with Archimedi’s other hologram half a mile away, but they would reluctantly follow the instructions. Superheroes, at least, knew Archimedi well by reputation.
“I will be back to ensure the safety of your city momentarily.”
Taking flight again, Archimedi approached Notre-Dame cathedral, on which this latest villain had decided to make her debut.
Villains needed something clever to hope to make anything of themselves in this world. Normally that involved significantly above average intelligence, some innate superpower of their own, and — most importantly — some stolen Eureka tech.
Archimedi had analysed the situation thousands of times before she arrived. This should be simple enough.
The fallout was always the bigger problem.
This latest villain was perched atop Notre-Dame, holding her terraformer over the Seine and threatening to spill the river over onto the cathedral and flood the surrounding area if her demands were not met. She also appeared to have some power of animation, as a multitude of gargoyles held civilians in their grasp below, threatening to snap their necks at the slightest provocation.
Time to talk then.
“I am here to talk terms,” Archimedi calmly began as she slowly flew towards the top of the cathedral. “Do you have a name?”
The villain’s manic grin faltered as Archimedi approached. Even with her sword sheathed, there was a distinct aura of danger surrounding Archimedi.
“I am The Sculptor,” the villain announced in French, perhaps more nervously than she had intended. “I shall reshape this world in my image!”
It was strange to hear the dead language. Everyone on the planet spoke American now, but Archimedi had learned every ancient tongue in the hope of preserving them.
“Okay, Sculptor,” Archimedi continued in French, once more startling the villain, “I need you to tell me if someone put you up to this.”
Unseen to the Sculptor, Archimedi’s nanodrones began to scan the villain, seeking out any indication of mind control. That was always a risk. Archimedi had been fooled by the tactic once before and never would be again.
“No hands shape this clay but my own, Bee.” The Sculptor spoke the truth, at least, as far as she believed. With no trace of hypnosis, pheromone control, drug-addlement, beautification-afflication, neuron re-mapping, or a tiny creature hiding inside a skin-suit, Archimedi believed her.
The Sculptor was doing this of her own choice.
Time for the next step.
“You could be a hero, you know?” Archimedi posed it as a question, probing the villain. “Wouldn’t you prefer to work with us? You could do a lot of good.”
The Sculptor half-laughed and half-choked at that.
“Join you? Pah!”
Down below, the gargoyles were gently rocking in time with their creator’s staggered breaths. Evidently actively controlled then. That was very good to know.
“What’s the point of living here anymore if I can’t shape the world as I want it?” The Sculptor took a moment to violently spit at the ground far below. “I’ll be the one to fix this broken world, gently breaking it apart and carving a beautiful new one in its place. People will worship me for it.”
Well, that answered the second question neatly, leaving an unpleasant gnawing at the back of Archimedi’s mind.
Time for the final question.
“Do you have any last wishes?” Archimedi asked.
The only response was a snarl before The Sculptor went to activate her terraformer, the gargoyles below simultaneously moving to snap the necks of their hostages.
Neither the Sculptor nor the gargoyles made it that far though.
As Archimedi pulled out Hirogiri, it grew, expanding to fill the space she had left between herself and the villain. A shockwave of displaced air was blasted out from the blade, a thundercrack that pierced through the bated breath of the city below. The air buzzed with energy as Archimedi’s sword swung, the blade now rivaling the size of the spire of Notre-Dame.
It took extreme precision and power to wield the weapon in any state, but that had been the bulk of Archimedi’s training over her lifetime: perfecting the blade. It had just seemed right, a warrior of justice wielding a sword to protect her world. The design of black and yellow bands was inspired by her own antennae, and the idea of a sword itself had undoubtedly come from one of the many shows she loved. Even the name, Hirogiri no Archimedi, had meaning. A meaning that was a little lost in translation, as it turned out, but Archimedi refused to change her weapon’s name. While one translation would simply call her weapon “the sword of Archimedi”, her own interpretation made it “the duty of the hero Archimedi”.
Alternatively, it might simply translate as “Archimedi of broad meaning”.
That last one had amused her mother when Archimedi confided in her, so Archimedi saw no need to change it.
The most impressive thing about the sword though was Archimedi’s devotion to it. While she could theoretically have created billions of devices based on her other mother’s discarded designs, Archimedi had chosen to focus on her weapon. Not only was she the perfect swordswoman, but she now undoubtedly possessed the world’s greatest sword.
Dr Steele had once referred to it as the universe’s most impressive pen-knife. Archimedi despised the comparison, but understood the metaphor. At this point, there were very few impossibilities that the sword could not achieve.
And every time Archimedi saw an amazing new sword feat in a show, she improved Hirogiri’s capabilities to enable her weapon to perform it as well.
Blade swinging down through the Parisian skies, images of those inspirational scenes flashed through her mind. Anime swords extending to extreme lengths as soul-reapers slashed through soul-eating monsters. Amazonians wielding swords that expanded with the favour of goddesses to rival skyscrapers and fell kaijus. Partners turning their loved one into a weapon to be wielded in protection of both of them. Archimedi hadn’t tried that last one yet. She didn’t know if she would ever even be deserving of love.
As the blade passed through the Sculptor’s body, it sheared her being into atomic pieces. The bonds between every atom of her body were severed, effectively disintegrating the failed supervillain as soon as the blade’s length came into contact with her.
From the Sculptor’s perspective, the world had ended as soon as she made a hostile move.
If any of Archimedi’s previously defeated foes could have shared their stories, they would have all realised that regardless of the technique Archimedi chose to use, they all ended the same way.
A light breeze caught the dust of the Sculptor, sweeping her remains away.
Hirogiri no Archimedi, its duty fulfilled, returned to its regular size at Archimedi’s side.
But the terraformer remained.
That was the true danger of Eureka-tech. Despite everything that Archimedi and Steele had tried, there was simply no way to destroy it. Unknown to either of them, entire planets throughout the universe had already been polluted to extinction by Eureka-tech, ecosystems always eventually failing to sustain the production needed to fabricate Eureka’s inventions and unable to dispose of the devices once they had been created. Celestial bodies of the agglomerated technology had replaced entire star systems in distant space when the planet ran out of fuel to ship the items away but continued to produce them at the same rate.
Given the Earth’s new purpose as a parts factory, interfering with that was likely to draw her mother’s ire. At least most of it was useless alone, if resource-draining and horrendously environmentally-detrimental. Incomplete parts got sent off into space, destined to be another’s problem. Instead, Archimedi purely focused on restricting the availability of the completed items. Removing those from public access was one of Archimedi’s highest priorities, a task made ever more difficult as the planet became ever-more equipped solely to manufacture the stuff.
Wherever it had come from, this terraformer was a completed piece. Maybe her mother had left it behind after her visit, discarded for decades and only rediscovered recently. Maybe this Sculptor had come across enough mismatched parts to piece together a truly horrific work of art.
Maybe one of the countless factories across the world was beginning to produce complete technology. Archimedi shuddered at that option, filing the idea away to investigate later; she had a clear and present danger to deal with right now.
In the nanoseconds after the annihilation of the Sculptor, before the terraformer began to fall, Archimedi considered her options. Touching complete Eureka-tech was often dangerous: you never knew exactly what the trigger was until you held it. Given that the Sculptor had been handling it though, that was probably the safest option. Grab it, take it back to her workshop, discuss the next step with her mentor. Simple enough.
Archimedi reached out a hand to carefully grasp the gauntlet.
And grabbed a handful of something far more soft and pliable than she expected.
“Boo!” An excited, high-pitched voice called out from immediately in front of Archimedi. “I call dibs!”
Archimedi froze instantly.
The woman floating in front of Archimedi was almost more tit than person. A last glimpse of the terraformer faded away as it slid into the seemingly-everending cleavage directly in front of the superhero, vanishing from sight before Archimedi thought to do anything about it.
This was a lot to take in.
Obscenely huge breasts spilled out the front of a lab coat that was doing a better impression of a cape and a work blouse that was doing its utmost to keep its single remaining button attached. Archimedi’s left hand, resting on top of the woman’s right tit, had attempted to grasp a handful of titflesh. She could have tried to grab a hundred handfuls and still failed to grab it all.
The woman’s hair – tied in a ponytail that snaked down her back and fell below her feet – was a vivid shade of emerald green, matching her eyes. It writhed back and forth with a mind of its own, individual strands occasionally escaping the hair tie and being corralled back into place just as quickly. The woman’s face was round and dimpled, a beaming smile giving her an adorably enthusiastic air to her that conflicted with the sense of terror that Archimedi felt upon looking into the woman’s cleavage. She was stunning in a girl-next-door type of way, but her body language betrayed a certain casualness that didn’t fit with her current actions. No one should be able to surprise Archimedi like that, or simply swallow up Eureka-tech into the space between her tits.
Just as distractingly, this woman wore a pair of oversized red-framed glasses with lenses that constantly reflected the swirling light of the Sun, splitting it apart and beaming a dazzling rainbow out around the vicinity of her face. The lenses themselves were puzzling, until Archimedi worked it out. The frame, as well as the glass itself, was Eureka-tech, still twinkling with the light of a potential star trapped inside.
Archimedi went to snatch her hand away from the woman, but it was… difficult. Pulling her hand back, Archimedi was certain that it had been spilling across the woman’s tits, moving closer to her cleavage. It actually took effort to remove her hand and back up a little.
Now with a better view of her opponent, Archimedi continued her analysis. The woman’s legs, as much as Archimedi could see of them, were covered by glossy black tights, and presumably the woman was wearing a short skirt of some kind, though any sight of that or the woman’s ass was hindered by the mountain of tits. Finally, she wore red leather cowboy boots, a strange way to round off her outfit, but she styled it out just the same.
In fact, the woman looked like she was posing, modelling herself for Archimedi with a coquettish smile.
That’s when Archimedi noticed it.
The woman was not using a hair tie to hold back her ponytail.
Wrapped around her hair and twitching excitedly were twin antennae.
“Boo!” The woman said again with a lilting laugh. “Surprised to see me, sis?”
