.. In a world with rare heros Fez was obsessed with superheroes — not just their powers, but the way they carried the weight of the world without flinching.
It was already late evening. He'd slept past noon again — laziness was his only consistent superpower — and now he sat on the edge of his unmade bed, earbuds in, listening to the Elite Anthem.It was the official theme of the world's most legendary hero team.
From downstairs, his mother's voice cut through the anthem."Wake up! The lunch is getting cold… What a lazy boy," she muttered, half annoyed, half amused.
"Coming!" he called back, not moving an inch. "Just give me five more minutes."His eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling, the anthem still playing softly in his ears — like some distant call to a life far bigger than his bedroom
With a groan, he finally sat up and shuffled to the window.The moment he pushed it open, a burst of evening light hit his eyes, making him squint.Too bright. Too real."I hate outside," he muttered, dragging the curtain halfway shut again
Fez turned on the TV, flopping back onto his bed with a dull thud.His room was a disaster — comics scattered across the floor, snack wrappers underfoot, and a giant poster of The Super Elite pinned crookedly to the wall.Three heroes stood tall in the artwork, their silhouettes framed by firelight. One of them had a red circle drawn around her head — Fez's favorite.
While Fez absentmindedly flipped through one of his favorite comic collections, the TV droned in the background.He wasn't really listening — until the anchor's voice sharpened."...breaking news just in. The national spy agency has confirmed the location of the world's most dangerous villain — ZEF — spotted not far from the city.""Authorities are monitoring the situation closely. While no immediate threat has been declared, citizens are advised to stay alert and await further updates."
"Oh my god... this is the end!" Fez shouted, bolting through the house in a flurry of panic. Still clutching his comic book, he turned a corner too fast and smacked right into the wall with a loud thud.Groaning, he blinked open his eyes — the book had fallen open in his hands. Right on the page with her.His favorite. The only female member of The Super Elite.He stared at her for a moment, breath catching."...Will they save us?" he whispered.
Somewhere, just a few blocks from where Fez stood, a crowd had gathered near a tall government building.In a green space not far from them, the three members of The Super Elite sat beneath a table with a wide sunshade, sipping juice as if the world wasn't teetering on the edge.They weren't hidden or surrounded by glass — just there, in the open, untouched by the panic.The only thing moving was the breeze, and the tense guards forming a barrier between them and the crowd.
The people below were held back by a line of armed guards. No one was allowed to get closer. But that didn't stop the shouting.
"What will you do?!" someone screamed."Can you stop him?!" another voice rose. "Are you even capable of beating ZEF?!"
Their words echoed off the concrete walls — not just questions anymore, but demands.
One of the heroes leaned back in his chair, his broad frame relaxed, a tall glass of juice in hand.He was jacked, brown-skinned, and wore a sharp blue suit that somehow looked more stylish than tactical.He took a slow sip, glanced toward the noise, and smirked."We're popular, Milenda. You should be happy."
Milenda rested her cheek against her hand, elbow propped lazily on the table. Her eyes drifted toward the crowd, half-lidded, almost bored."I don't know if I should be happy… or terrified," she said, her voice flat, like someone deciding whether to answer a call or let it ring.Then, without shifting her posture, she added, "We're about to face the most dangerous figure on Earth, Grek."
Seated beside them was a man in a sharp red suit, posture straight, presence impossible to ignore.There was something about him — not just power, but authority. A quiet force that made people lower their voices when he entered the room.He looked like a leader. Like someone who didn't flinch.
"It's okay, guys," he said calmly, setting his drink down without looking at either of them. "Don't think about things like that."His tone didn't change as he continued."We'll stop ZEF. With force, if we have to…"A pause. Then, coldly:"Even if it means killing the ones surrounding him."
Grek's smirk faded. Milenda's hand slowly slipped from her cheek.They both turned to him — silent, but clearly shaken.
Meanwhile, Fez was pushing through side streets, trying to get closer to the crowd noise He could hear the crowd before he even saw them. The voices were loud, chaotic, overlapping — but one phrase kept rising above the rest:"They came! They came!""The superheroes are here!""They came to save us!"
Fez slowed, the word heroes bouncing around in his head as he tried to process what he was hearing."Heroes…?" he repeated under his breath, eyes wide.And then it clicked. Hard.
"The Super Elite? Here?!"He snapped — sprinting forward, comic flapping at his side, nearly tripping over a cat that darted past."I want to see them! NOW!"
Fez ran goofily toward the crowd, elbows out, comic still clutched in one hand.He shoved past shoulders and slipped between legs, earning a few curses and elbows, until finally —he saw her.
Milenda.
From across the guarded green space, calm as ever beneath that sunshade, she blinked in his direction. Just once.That was all it took.
Fez's cheeks flushed so red they practically steamed. Before he could even shout, a guard grabbed him by the collar and tossed him back into the street like a kicked-out cat.
"Damn it! Damn it!" Fez groaned, sprawled on the pavement. "At least I saw them!"
Later, as he brushed dirt from his hoodie and wandered down the alley toward home, he muttered:"No… no, it's not enough."His eyes narrowed with determination."I want to meet them. Personally."
"But… how?"Fez paced in tight circles, muttering to himself like a conspiracy theorist."How do you meet a superhero?"
He stopped suddenly, eyes wide. A grin stretched across his face.
"To meet superheroes…" he whispered, pointing at nothing, "you have to think like you're one of them."
Fifteen minutes later, Fez was dragging a dusty trampoline into position, his bed's blanket tied around his neck like a cape.Across the green space, beyond a tall concrete wall, The Super Elite were still seated under the sunshade.And Fez — knees bent, eyes wild — launched himself.
Up.Higher.Higher.
Meanwhile, at the table, Milenda suddenly stood up, brushing imaginary crumbs from her lap."I think I need to use the restroom for a moment," she said, placing her silver hair clip gently on the table.
Grek glanced up from his drink."Ha? Uh… alright."
"What a feeling!" Fez shouted midair, arms stretched like a rocket, the blanket behind him flapping wildly.For a second, he swore he was flying.
Then — reality hit.
Or rather, he hit.
Directly into the table. Glass shattered. Juice flew. Wood cracked like a snapped bone.
A stunned silence followed. Until—
"Who are you?" Grek's voice rang out, sharp and irritated. "What brings you here?"He looked down at his soaked pant leg and the glass shards by his chair."...You even messed up my cocktail juice!!"
The leader in red didn't move. He just stared at Fez, unreadable. Not angry — just… watching. Thinking.
Fez groaned, head spinning, one sock half-off. He pushed himself up, and then — he saw them.His eyes went wide. His mouth opened like a kid , and he started naming them like he's reading off a trading card
"Oh my god… it's the heroes!" "Grek the Thunder… And The Destroyer…"His voice trembled as he looked up at the red-suited man.
"And Milen—"
He stopped. Blinked. Scanned the space."...Where is she?"
Grek let out a loud, booming laugh that turned heads."BUHAHAHAHA! You're an interesting boy. I like you already!"
Fez blinked, still on his knees, dazed and blushing.
Then — a hand rested gently on his head. Firm, calm.The leader. The Destroyer.
He ruffled Fez's hair with slow, deliberate movements."We need energetic boys like you on our team" he said, voice cool, with the faintest hint of teasing.
Fez lit up. Completely. His chest puffed out with pride like a balloon.He hadn't felt this proud since the day he got an A+ for coloring inside the lines in kindergarten.Which was impressive, considering he was, by most accounts, a complete idiot.
Suddenly, a sharp voice rang out from behind."GET OUT OF HERE!" one of the guards barked, storming toward him.
Fez's smile faltered."Damn it… I didn't even see her yet. What a frustration..."
Grek leaned back in his chair, grinning wide."I suggest you go, kid. We save people. We fight villains. But we don't save brats from angry guards."
Still kneeling on the crushed remains of the table, Fez threw his hands up like a kid begging for candy."Wait, wait—! I want your autograph, damn it!"
He dropped his arms, eyes scanning the grass. His fingers brushed something cold and metallic — a glint of silver. Milenda's hair clip.He pocketed it quickly, quietly. No one seemed to notice.
Except the leader. His lips curled into the faintest smile.
The guards closed in."Damn it!!" Fez shouted again, scrambling to his feet. "It's not the last time we meet, superheroes!! Bye!!" He darted for the nearest side gate. One of the guards stepped aside with an amused shake of his head and let him pass.
Grek watched him disappear through the doorway, still chuckling."What a boy..."
Milenda returned to the table, her steps light but her gaze sharp. She stopped when she saw the mess — the shattered glass, the broken table legs, and the faint outline of a comic-book-shaped dent.
She raised an eyebrow."What happened, guys?" she asked with an angry smirk.
Silence.
Grek scratched his cheek. The leader didn't even glance up — his mind clearly elsewhere.
Milenda's eyes narrowed."Where's my hair clip?"
No one answered.
Somewhere far off, in a dimly lit bedroom piled with comics and dirty socks, Fez lay on his back, eyes wide.He was holding the silver hair clip like it was made of stardust, slowly bringing it to his nose.
"Am I dreaming…?" he whispered, sniffing it like a lunatic."No doubt. That's Milenda's hair clip!"
He rolled over onto his bed, hugging a pillow and staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes.The clip rested gently on his chest like a stolen trophy."OH MY GOD, I CAN'T SLEEP TONIGHT!"
The next morning, Fez stepped out to grab some groceries.The sun was barely up — but he was already buzzing with energy.And in his hair, proudly clipped just above his ear, was the hair clip. Milenda's.
He entered the supermarket like a hero entering a war zone.It was packed — aisles overflowing, carts clashing, toddlers crying.Fez ran in circles between shelves, yelling out imaginary attacks.
"THUNDER PUNCH!" he shouted, narrowly missing a basket of eggs."CRITICAL STRIKE FORMATION!"
Murmurs spread like wildfire.
"Who is this kid?""Is he okay? "Is he… a crossdresser?" Why's he wearing a girl's hair clip?"
Suddenly, in the middle of aisle seven — the calmest aisle of them all, tucked between the cereal and discount ramen — a hand pressed gently against Fez's chest. He froze.
A calm voice spoke behind tinted glasses and a low-brimmed hat."Do you like superheroes?"
Fez blinked. The energy drained from his arms. His voice caught in his throat.
The stranger slowly removed her glasses.
It was her.
Milenda. In disguise — but unmistakable. Sharp eyes. Soft features. A quiet presence wrapped in a hoodie and anonymity.
"YOU—YOU MIL—!"
Milenda quickly raised a finger to his lips, her other hand holding the brim of her hat low.She was a bit shorter than him, but the look in her eyes made him feel five inches tall.
"Shh," she whispered. "The others will hear you."Then, calmly: "I think you've got something that belongs to me."
Fez blinked. Panicked. Then blurted,"Wait! I'll just finish buying my groceries and we'll meet outside, okay?" He turned awkwardly, knocking a can of beans off the shelf.
"D-Don't go anywhere else pleeeaase!" he called over his shoulder, voice cracking.
Fez stepped out of the store, clutching a half-crumpled grocery bag trying to breathe normally Milenda walked beside him — hoodie up, hands in her pockets, calm as moonlight.
In his head, Fez was screaming."I can't believe I'm walking with a superhero…!"
Then she glanced at him, her tone quiet but clear."You're an interesting boy."
Fez froze mid-step. His brain short-circuited. He stopped mumbling. His heartbeat slowed — just a little.
"You remind me of my younger brother," she said after a pause. Her voice carried something softer. Sadder.
Fez didn't speak. He just listened. Every part of him.
They walked a little farther, up a gentle hill where the city stretched quietly below. Milenda sat down first, folding her legs like someone who'd been here before — comfortable, familiar with the spot.
Fez hovered awkwardly — looking at her, then at the grass, then back at her — and finally plopped down beside her several seconds later, confused and a little stiff.
That night, as the sky darkened and the city lights flickered far below, Milenda finally spoke.
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"That incident…"
She paused. The wind tugged gently at her hoodie.
"I lost my mother. And my Brother."
"Someone attacked us. I can't remember his face — he was all shadow, like darkness itself."Her eyes didn't blink. Her gaze stayed fixed somewhere beyond the hill."The only thing I remember…" she said slowly,
"...was the smile."
"That evil, scary smile."
Her eyes started to glow faintly, catching the last light of dusk — but it wasn't power.It was something heavier. She looked like she could cry at any moment.
Fez froze. His hand twitched at his side — unsure if he should summon a napkin, or gently touch her shoulder.But in the end, he didn't do either.
"I-It's… okay?" he said, the words coming out weird and fragile."Right? It's… okay?"
He winced immediately. He couldn't even find the right words.
Fez sat there, caught in a storm of feelings — confusion, sadness, disbelief... and that ridiculous overhyped thrill of sitting beside a real-life superhero.
His heart couldn't decide which direction to race in.
Then, without a word, Milenda's fingers drifted into the grass beside her.
Where her hands touched, the blades curled. The flowers near her wilted quietly, their color draining away.
Fez blinked, remembering something. A fragment from earlier.Back at the shattered table, he'd been naming heroes like collectible cards — Grek the Thunder, The Destroyer — but Milenda… he'd stopped short.
Now, the missing piece clicked into place. His voice came out small, filled with awe.
"...Milenda the Poison."
"Oh—sorry for saying too much!" Milenda said quickly, waving her hands in front of her like she could push the moment away."I don't usually talk like this… it just feels too comfortable with you."
"AHH—IT'S OKAY, IT'S OKAY!" Fez blurted out, practically bouncing in place."Even I enjoyed it!"
Then, like a lightbulb flicking on in his head, he gasped."OH! Talking about enjoyment—"He spun toward her, eyes gleaming.
"Can I have your autograph?!"
"...We might not meet again," Fez said suddenly, gripping the hem of his hoodie."Aaaand I really want it."
Milenda blinked at him, caught off guard. Then smiled faintly. "Oh… okay."
Fez jumped up like he'd just won the lottery. "OH—where's the pen? I don't have a pen! Okay—wait—let me buy a pen! Don't go away, okay?!"
She tilted her head, watching him with something unreadable in her eyes.
"...Don't go away, huh?" she whispered.
Her voice barely made it past her lips.And for just a second, she looked like someone remembering something that hurt.
Fez came bounding back up the hill, breathless, waving a brand-new pen like it was a golden relic.He shoved it forward along with his shirt. "Here—sign this! Right here! Please!"
As Milenda uncapped the pen and scribbled gently across the fabric, Fez looked at her, heart practically bursting.
"Just meeting you made me fly with happiness. Thank you so much, Milenda!"
He grinned so wide it hurt."I hope you do well in your next epic final fight! I'll be watching you all—I hope that airs on TV!"
Milenda smiled softly, her head tilted as she finished signing.Not the forced, public smile she wore at press events.This one was real. Quiet. Warm.
"YAAAY! I DID IT!" Fez yelled, running downhill as fast as he could, arms swinging wildly.He rushed home, clutching his signed shirt, feeling like he was flying.
But deep down… just a little part of him hesitated.
Had he just left behind a treasure?
Back on the hill, Milenda stood with the breeze brushing her hoodie. She waved after him — calm, a little amused.Then her hand froze midair.
"Wait—my hair clip!" she called out. But her voice wasn't loud enough. Fez had already vanished down the street.
That night, Fez sat on his bed, shirtless, staring at the signed shirt like it was a sacred relic.
"Yesterday… a hair clip. Today, an autograph?" He clutched the fabric to his chest. "What's next—a date?!"
"YAAAA!!"
He rolled across the bed, kicking and flailing like a girl with a massive crush.
He turned to the other side of his bed, eyes landing on the hair clip resting near his pillow."...I should really return it to her," he mumbled."I hope I find her again. Like I did today."
The next day, the sky was thick with clouds, heavy and gray — the kind that could break into rain at any moment.Fez moved quickly, eyes sharp, steps focused. No zigzags. No shouting.
His mind had one goal.Find her again.
He stepped into the supermarket. It was nearly empty. Quiet , Fez searched aisle by aisle, corner to corner — even the calmest one.
But Milenda wasn't there.
Outside, Fez stood under the cloudy sky, a grocery bag hanging limply in his hand.Frustration pulled at his chest."Of course," he muttered. "Coincidences don't happen every day."
Suddenly—BOOM .A thunderclap ripped through the sky like the world itself cracked open.
Fez flinched. "Rain?"
But the clouds didn't break.The air was shaking.Then it hit him—
"No… that's not thunder." His eyes widened.
"That's Grek"
Which could only mean one thing—
The Super Elite had entered their final fight Against FEZ .And it was happening now.