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(Worm) A Systematic Tale: The Hero 1
🕑 Added 2025-03-23 05:00:25 +0000 UTC^ Story Cover Above ^
Story Summary: Well, there are certainly worse things he can be than a hero. Chicks dig heroes, right?
Chapter 1:
– Sophia Hess –
Sophia Hess—better known in Brockton Bay's shadows as Shadow Stalker—was doing a little unauthorized patrolling. Officially, the PRT had her on a tight leash lately, but Sophia wasn't one to let rules slow her down. Besides, what they didn't know couldn't hurt them.
In shadow form, she flickered effortlessly from rooftop to rooftop, savoring the rush of freedom she always felt when no one was breathing down her neck. She paused for a second to scan the street below, eyes narrowing behind her mask. Her gaze landed on someone oddly familiar walking alone down the sidewalk.
"Who the hell is that?" she muttered quietly, trying to place him.
Sophia tilted her head slightly, observing the guy more closely. She recognized him vaguely—probably one of her classmates at Winslow. Math class, maybe? Yeah, that sounded about right. He was one of those quiet, boring guys who sat in the back and kept to himself. Definitely no predator, but not really prey either. Just one of those forgettable background extras in the daily grind. Simon or Steve or something. His name probably started with an "S," though she couldn't swear by it.
Sophia watched him a little longer. He was surprisingly good-looking for someone who barely made a ripple at school—tall, athletic build, blond hair, striking blue eyes. A decent guy, too, at least by Winslow standards. She hadn't seen him hanging around with those Nazi fuckheads from Empire Eighty-Eight, which put him a notch above most of the school in her book.
"Not bad," Sophia murmured appreciatively. But still, not someone who warranted her attention right now.
There had to be something more exciting happening elsewhere.
Just as she was about to move on, something flickered at the corner of her vision. From the alley she'd passed moments ago, a shadow emerged—gang colors visible even in the dim lighting, red and green that screamed ABB. The ganger silently crept up behind her classmate, gripping a baseball bat tightly, clearly ready to swing.
Sophia tensed, anger surging through her veins. "Cowardly piece of shit," she hissed. Normally, she didn't go out of her way for people too weak or too stupid to defend themselves, but something about this gutless sneak attack rubbed her entirely the wrong way.
Before she could react further, the bat swung down with a sickening crack against her classmate's head. He collapsed instantly onto the pavement, blood starting to seep onto the concrete beneath him.
"Heh! Take that, dumb fucker," the gang member gloated, nudging the unconscious body with his foot. "Now where's your wallet at?"
Sophia let out a frustrated growl. She shifted instantly into shadow form, dropping down from the rooftop in silent fury and reforming just behind the attacker.
"Hey, fucktard," she snapped.
The gang member whirled around, eyes wide in shock. "Wha—?"
His question was cut short as Sophia's fist slammed directly into his throat. He staggered back, choking desperately, hands grasping at his neck.
"What's wrong? Can't breathe, asshole?" she mocked. Before he could recover, Sophia planted her boot firmly into his face, sending him sprawling backwards. His skull hit the pavement with a satisfying thud, and he lay there unmoving.
She glanced down disdainfully, fingers brushing the crossbow at her hip. She'd love nothing more than to put a bolt through this asshole’s skull—just to teach him and his ABB pals a real lesson. But, as always, rules got in the way. The last thing she needed was Armsmaster giving her another lecture about excessive force…
Sophia turned her attention reluctantly to her fallen classmate, frowning at the blood pooling beneath his head.
"Fuck. This is the last thing I needed tonight," she complained loudly to no one in particular. She knelt beside him, briefly examining the wound. Head injuries were nasty business—he needed medical attention fast, or things could get real ugly, real quick. Even if he was just another forgettable nobody, letting him bleed out on the sidewalk felt wrong somehow. How else would she ever find out whether this guy was a fellow predator or not?
"Damn it, S-guy," she muttered sarcastically. "You owe me one."
She pulled out her phone, quickly dialing the PRT emergency control number.
"Shadow Stalker reporting," she said impatiently, cutting straight through the operator’s usual bullshit. "Got an injured civilian—Winslow student, head wound, looks serious. I'm at Eighteenth and Market Street, alley next to Carson's Hardware. There's an unconscious ABB thug here too, ready for pickup."
"Shadow Stalker, you're not scheduled for patrol tonight," the operator replied skeptically. "Mind explaining what you're doing out there?"
"Fuck's sake, can't a girl practice with her powers?" she snapped, annoyed by the question. "I was just testing my shadow form maneuvers—nothing serious. Happened across this shitshow by chance. Believe me or don't, I really don't give a shit. Just send some fucking backup and medical right now."
"Understood," came the wary reply. "Units are inbound. Remain on scene."
Sophia sighed dramatically, hanging up without bothering to reply. She looked down at the unconscious classmate, suddenly feeling awkwardly protective. She checked his pulse just to be safe—it was steady enough for now.
"Hey, blondie," she muttered dryly, nudging his shoulder lightly. "You're fucking lucky I was around tonight, you know? Do me a favor and don’t fucking die before help gets here." Sophia stood back up, folding her arms impatiently. It was going to be a long night of paperwork and stupid questions from the PRT, all because some moron got himself blindsided by an ABB lowlife. "Goddamn it," she sighed again, glancing around restlessly. Still, looking down at him once more, she felt an odd sense of satisfaction.
– Silas –
I woke up feeling like absolute shit.
Bright lights stung my eyes, making me groan and shut them again. My head felt heavy and foggy, a dull ache pounding steadily behind my temples. Something felt seriously off. I tried to concentrate, but it was like sorting through two sets of completely different memories.
In one, I was just Silas—just started university, moved out, maybe? Funny thing was, I couldn't exactly remember the name of the university or when I’d moved. The details were fuzzy, just beyond reach, like a dream I'd forgotten on waking.
In the other, clearer memories, I was Silas Thorn, a senior at Winslow High, living alone in Brockton Bay after finally emancipating myself from a family full of assholes. Brockton Bay…why did that name ring bells in my other memory too?
This whole thing made no damn sense.
"Shit," I mumbled, rubbing my eyes and trying to get my head on straight. "What the hell happened?"
Just as I started to regain my bearings, the hospital room door swung open suddenly. I blinked through the brightness and found myself staring at two girls—two striking, familiar faces wearing brightly colored costumes.
Wait, costumes? Oh shit, are these actual superheroes?
"Is he your last patient for today, Amy?" the blonde one asked, giving me a curious glance. "Seriously, I'm wiped. I wanna go home."
Amy? Did she just say Amy? My sluggish brain kicked into gear slowly, putting the pieces together. These two weren't just regular visitors; I was staring directly at Panacea and Glory Girl—two actual, honest-to-god capes.
Panacea sighed softly and nodded, brushing a stray lock of brown hair behind her ear. "Yes, Vicky, he's my last patient. Relax, I'll make this quick."
I stared at them in disbelief. "Holy shit," I blurted, my filter obviously still offline. "Are you two who I think you are?"
Glory Girl laughed out loud, clearly amused. "In the flesh! Damn, Amy, we've got ourselves a fanboy."
Panacea shot her sister a tired look before approaching my bedside. She leaned closer, her warm brown eyes focused professionally on mine. "Do I have your permission to heal you?"
I swallowed awkwardly. Panacea was…pretty. Way prettier in person than in the grainy PHO pictures. Before I could think twice, my mouth took over again. "Wow," I said, staring at her. "You're actually really cute in person."
Panacea froze instantly, eyes widening in shock as her face turned bright pink. Behind her, Glory Girl nearly doubled over laughing, clutching her stomach and gasping dramatically.
"Oh my god! Amy, your face!" Glory Girl cackled. "I officially like this guy!" Still giggling, she winked at me playfully. "Hi there, handsome. I'm Vicky. What's your name?"
"Uh, Silas," I replied sheepishly, my brain still fuzzy and sluggish. "I think. Pretty sure I’ve got a serious head injury or something."
Panacea exhaled sharply, rolling her eyes at her sister before gently resting her hand on my forearm. Her fingers were soft and cool against my skin. "Yes," she confirmed calmly, professionalism taking over again. "I can feel the skull fracture and internal bleeding. Just hold still, this shouldn't take long."
The moment she touched me, relief washed through my head, easing the throbbing pressure that’d been plaguing me since I woke up.
It still felt foggy as hell, though. Like something was seriously wrong here but I still couldn't figure out what.
"There," Panacea said, quietly pulling back. Her voice steadied now, despite her flushed cheeks. "I fixed your skull fracture and internal bleeding. But you've still got a concussion. I can't heal brains. You're going to feel confused and disoriented for a couple days, but it'll clear up eventually."
"Thanks, Panacea," I said gratefully, giving her a tired smile. "Or do you prefer Amy?"
Glory Girl immediately stepped forward, grinning wickedly as she leaned toward me. "You can call her whatever you want, handsome—just make sure you buy her dinner first. She's single, you know!"
Amy turned even redder, shooting Glory Girl an icy glare. "Vicky, seriously? Shut the hell up."
I couldn't help chuckling at the sisters' exchange. Shaking my head gently, careful not to trigger more pain, I asked, "Wait, so…what exactly happened? Why am I even here?"
Panacea folded her arms, her embarrassment gradually replaced by calm professionalism again. "Apparently, you got jumped downtown. Shadow Stalker brought you into the ER last night after you got clubbed from behind by some psycho ABB gang member."
"Shadow Stalker?" I echoed, genuinely surprised. I knew that name, vaguely—she was a member of the Wards, wasn't she? "Holy shit. You mean I've met three beautiful superheroes today? That’s gotta be some kind of record." I shook my head, chuckling softly at my own dumb luck. "Too bad I was unconscious when I met one of them."
Glory Girl snorted softly, folding her arms with a teasing grin. "Wait, wait, hold up—how do you know Shadow Stalker is beautiful? She's always wearing those edgy clothes and hiding behind her mask."
"Any girl who saves my life is automatically beautiful in my book," I said honestly.
"Damn, Amy," Glory Girl joked, elbowing her sister playfully. "This guy's trouble. If he went to Arcadia, we'd have real problems."
Amy sighed dramatically, clearly exhausted by her sister's antics. "Vicky, stop embarrassing me. Can we go now?"
Before Amy could respond, a loud boom echoed up from somewhere below us, rattling the windows and making me jolt upright. My heart raced, and suddenly the fuzzy feeling in my head was replaced by adrenaline.
"Jesus!" I exclaimed. "What the hell was that?"
Glory Girl spun around sharply, her expression immediately darkening. "Shit," she muttered, rushing to the window. She glanced down, then cursed loudly. "Fuck—it's the goddamn Poppers!"
I stared at her blankly, feeling completely lost. "Who the hell are the Poppers?"
Amy groaned, her voice dripping with disdain. "They're a bunch of idiots who broke away from the Merchants to form their own shitty gang. Instead of street drugs, they focus exclusively on prescription meds. You know, pill-poppers. They call themselves 'The Poppers' because they're not exactly creative."
I shook my head slowly, incredulous. "Are you serious? They're raiding the hospital?"
"Idiots," Glory Girl said again, looking pissed. "They fucked around, and now they're about to find out." Without another word, she bolted for the door. Halfway out, she turned back sharply, pointing sternly at her sister. "Amy, stay here. Stay safe—I'm serious!"
Amy bristled at that, clearly irritated, but before she could protest, Glory Girl was already gone, her footsteps rapidly fading down the hallway.
A tense, awkward silence fell over the room, punctuated only by the faint sound of yelling downstairs. I glanced sideways at Amy, who was glaring at the now-empty doorway, cheeks flushed in annoyance.
"I'm guessing you're tired of her doing that?" I asked carefully, trying to lighten the mood.
Amy sighed heavily, folding her arms and sitting down in the chair next to my bed. "You have no idea. She always treats me like I’m made of glass."
Another brief silence lingered, uncomfortable enough that I decided to speak up again. "Look–er, Amy—I’m sorry about earlier. If I embarrassed you in front of your sister, I didn't mean to…"
Her expression softened slightly, and she gave me a faint, amused smile. "Don't worry about it. Seriously, it’s fine."
The way she said it made me feel a little better, but I couldn't quite let it go. The fog in my head made it easy to just blurt things out, so I rolled with it. "Actually, I meant what I said earlier. Concussion or not, you really are cute. Beautiful, even."
Amy's eyes widened in surprise, and she sputtered, clearly caught off guard. "Wow," she managed, cheeks flushing again as she eyed me warily. "You're a bold one, aren't you?"
I chuckled sheepishly, rubbing my neck. "Honestly? Not usually. I think I'm normally a lot shyer than this. I blame the concussion for turning off my filter."
Amy snorted softly, shaking her head with a little smile. "Trust me, Vicky and I have seen and heard plenty of weird shit over the years—especially from people I've healed. You’re not even close to the worst."
"Good to know," I said, relaxing a little more. I watched her for a moment, appreciating how genuine her smile seemed beneath all the stress. "Still, I figured I should at least let you know."
She looked down briefly, her lips twitching up again. "You're surprisingly sweet for someone who just got his skull cracked open."
I laughed again, the tension easing a bit further. "I'm pretty sure that's the concussion talking, too."
Before she could reply, another series of loud shouts and gunshots erupted from downstairs, shattering the calm we'd briefly built up. My pulse quickened again, worry creeping back in. "Shit," I muttered nervously. "Is everyone downstairs going to be okay?"
Amy nodded, though her expression turned serious again. "The hospital staff know the drill—they’re trained to take cover whenever gangs show up acting crazy like this. As long as everyone stays down and doesn’t panic, they should be fine."
I hesitated for a second, glancing toward the door. "And Glory Girl?"
Amy rolled her eyes, though this time there was clear pride in her voice. "She'll be fine. Trust me—she lives for this kind of thing. If anything, those idiots downstairs are the ones who should be worried."
I exhaled slowly, relaxing a little more at her confidence. "Alright, if you're sure."
Amy smiled reassuringly. "Believe me, I’m sure."
Despite the chaos downstairs, there was something calming about Amy’s presence, something steady that cut through the fog still lingering in my head. She clearly knew what she was talking about, and that made me feel better.
"I just wish I wasn't stuck here uselessly," I admitted quietly, feeling restless. "I hate feeling like dead weight."
Amy raised an eyebrow at me, amused. "You were literally just healed from internal bleeding and a cracked skull. You’re allowed to be useless for a little while. Plus you don’t have any powers…" she trailed off.
"Fair enough," I admitted reluctantly. "But if things go sideways and someone bursts in here—"
Amy smirked, cutting me off playfully. "You’ll protect me? Is that where this is going?"
I laughed, shrugging helplessly. "I mean, I’ll do something. Not sure what exactly, but I'll definitely throw something at them, at least."
Amy laughed again, louder this time, genuinely amused. "Well, now I feel safer already."
We fell silent again, this time more comfortable than before. I glanced at her, noting how much softer her expression had become since we started talking.
"You know," she began hesitantly, looking slightly away, "you're different than most people I heal."
I raised an eyebrow curiously. "Oh? How so?"
Amy shrugged lightly, blushing faintly again. "Usually, people either freak out or treat me like I'm some untouchable saint. You just…talk to me. Like a normal person."
I smiled warmly at her. "Isn't that what you are?"
She gave me a long, appreciative look, clearly touched by that simple statement. "Thanks..."
"I'm Silas, by the way," I said awkwardly, realizing I might've skipped properly introducing myself earlier.
Amy chuckled quietly, giving me a playful look. "Yeah, I know. You told me your name already."
I blinked in confusion, embarrassment creeping up my neck. "Oh shit. Uh, is it bad that I honestly don't remember doing that?"
"Not really," Amy said with an easy shrug. "Forgetfulness is pretty standard with concussions."
"Well, that's reassuring," I joked dryly. "Guess I'm hitting all the concussion clichés tonight."
She smirked, clearly amused. But before she could reply, her smile instantly faded. Shouting and heavy footsteps echoed from the hallway, rapidly approaching our floor. My stomach tightened, and Amy’s expression shifted from amusement to genuine worry. Without thinking, she moved closer to my bedside, clearly tense. "That doesn’t sound good," she whispered nervously.
The door suddenly crashed open, startling us both. Two men stormed into the room, both of them looking completely fucked up. Their eyes were wild, pupils blown wide from whatever pills they’d swallowed, and they looked jittery and twitchy—exactly the type of idiots I'd imagined from Amy’s earlier description.
"There she is!" one of them crowed triumphantly, grinning in a way that made my skin crawl. "Grab her. We'll trade her to Glory Hole downstairs for our guys."
Amy glared sharply at him, clearly more angry than afraid in that moment. "Don't fucking call my sister that, asshole."
But her bravado vanished when the second guy whipped out a grimy-looking pistol, pointing it directly at her chest. "Shut up, Panacea," he growled threateningly.
Amy froze, eyes wide. Her breathing grew shallow as the other guy turned toward me, leveling a hateful glare in my direction. "And you," he snapped aggressively, "you didn't see shit, got it? Keep your mouth shut if you know what's good for you."
My heart pounded wildly in my chest. All I could think about was the casual promise I'd jokingly made to Amy just minutes ago, how I'd said I'd do something if trouble came crashing through the door. It had seemed harmless, almost funny at the time—but suddenly, it felt like a promise I absolutely had to keep.
[Heh… This one has some guts, even if he's a bit foolish. I look forward to seeing what you can do with my gift…]
I flinched, startled as a strange, woman’s voice echoed inside my head. But I didn't have time to question it, the situation was rapidly spiraling out of control. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself up from the bed, ignoring how the room swayed dangerously around me.
"Sit the fuck back down, kid, or I'm gonna cap your ass!" the guy with the gun barked, glaring furiously at me.
"Silas, don’t!" Amy warned urgently, eyes wide with panic. "Stay down!"
"No," I said firmly, surprising myself with how steady my voice sounded. "Panacea isn’t going anywhere with you fuckers."
The thug holding the gun sneered, clearly unimpressed. He raised the pistol threateningly, finger tightening on the trigger—
[...Heroic system initializing.]
[...Heroic system installed.]
[Commencing Tutorial Quest in ten seconds. One person may accompany the host on this Quest. Please specify that person now.]
"What the fuck?" I muttered, stunned, staring in disbelief at the floating screen of glowing text suddenly hovering in front of me. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who could see it—both of the drugged-out assholes stared at it too, their jaws dropping open in confusion and fear.
"What the fuck is that!?" shouted the thug with the pistol, his eyes widening with sudden panic. "Shit! This kid’s a fucking cape! Shoot his ass, Paul!"
My pulse thundered in my ears, adrenaline surging. The glowing message demanded I choose someone quickly, and the only logical choice was standing right beside me.
"Um...Panacea?" I stammered out shakily, more question than statement.
[Panacea, Amy Dallon, has been selected as the Host’s chosen partner for the tutorial quest.]
"Silas?" Amy whispered, stepping instinctively toward me, clearly just as confused as everyone else.
The gun fired, an ear-splitting bang echoing through the small hospital room. Amy screamed my name—but before the bullets could find their mark, before pain or death could claim either of us, the entire room flashed brilliant white.
XXX
I'm posting the first two chapters at once.
Comments
Danielle
Can’t say I’m really that enthused about worm stories anymore tbh, but thanks for writing!
Lil LightSkin
Bout time you did an actual worm story
WhatAFungi
OMG!!! A system window anyone can see!?!?! I’ve legit NEVER seen that done. Also, as a huge fan of the worm fandom, I can’t wait to see where you take this. Edit: Love the art, btw.
