-----
The memory hit him without warning.
Black Mentis stood in the conference room, the blue light from the wall screens reflecting across the reinforced chest plating of his black tactical suit. His gloved fingers rested on the metal table. The dents he had made earlier were still visible beneath them.
His jaw tightened.
For a moment he stared at the looping footage of the collapsed bridge on the screen. Civilians running. Concrete falling. Sirens.
Then the sound faded.
The room slowly blurred.
His breathing slowed behind the mask.
The memory took over.
Years earlier.
Richard's office.
The door clicked shut behind Black Mentis.
The blinds were half closed. Afternoon light leaked through the slats and cut thin stripes across the carpet. The air smelled faintly of coffee and expensive cologne.
Richard sat behind a large polished desk made of dark wood. His posture was relaxed, shoulders leaning back into the leather chair. His fingers tapped twice on the surface of the desk while studying the masked figure standing in front of him.
Black Mentis stood still. Both arms crossed over his chest. His eyes locked on Richard.
Richard reached to the side of his desk and picked up a heavy envelope. He slid it slowly across the desk with two fingers.
The thick paper stopped a few inches from Mentis.
Richard leaned forward slightly and folded his hands together.
"You have earned this knowledge," Richard said calmly. "You need to know."
Mentis didn't move immediately.
His head tilted slightly as he looked down at the envelope.
Richard watched him carefully.
"You're Rank 1 now," Richard continued. "That means we trust you with information the others never see."
He leaned back again and crossed one leg over the other.
"It means you belong to us now. We own you."
Mentis shifted slightly. He finally reached forward. Two gloved fingers pressed down on the envelope.
The thick paper crinkled under the pressure.
His eyes narrowed behind the mask.
Richard's mouth curved into a faint smirk. He raised one eyebrow and continued speaking.
"If you do something stupid," Richard said, "our deal ends. And that would be unfortunate. You have been very useful to our greater goal."
He tapped the envelope again to get Mentis's attention.
"We should share some of our findings with you. So don't fuck things up, you hear?"
His voice remained calm.
"We will be counting on you even more than ever."
Black Mentis stepped closer.
His boots made a quiet sound against the polished floor.
He reached down and grabbed the envelope with one hand.
He opened it and slid the documents out onto the desk.
"I can hear you. Stop nagging me."
The room stayed silent except for the faint rustle of paper.
Mentis flipped through the pages using two fingers.
Surveillance reports.
Internal directives.
Lab experiment results.
His movements slowed. His shoulders stiffened. His jaw tightened behind the mask. His eyes moved quickly across the documents.
Mentis stopped turning the pages and remained on one sheet longer than the others.
Then he lifted his head slowly.
His eyes locked onto Richard.
Richard sat calmly with his hands folded across his stomach.
HeroCorp didn't manage heroes.
They owned them.
Richard reached into a drawer and placed a keycard on the table between them.
He pushed it forward with one finger.
"You can verify everything for yourself," Richard said. "Go check the restricted area and you will get more answers there."
His voice lowered slightly.
Mentis slowly picked up the card.
The plastic bent slightly in his grip.
Richard watched him closely.
"We can make your goal possible," Richard continued, "if you keep supporting us."
Mentis leaned forward.
His gloved hands pressed against the desk. The wood creaked slightly under the pressure.
He lowered his head closer to Richard and spoke quietly.
"And what makes you think a nobody like you or this company knows what I want," he said. "Or that you can actually achieve it."
Richard leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands together over his stomach. His expression stayed relaxed.
"Let's say," Richard said calmly, "I might already have access to something you desperately need."
He reached into a folder beside him and pulled out a single piece of paper.
He slid it across the desk.
Mentis looked down and unfolded the page.
The moment his eyes read it, his laser vision flared inside the mask. A faint red glow reflected across the lenses as the energy built.
His hand slammed down on the desk.
The impact cracked the heavy wood.
The center of the desk split with a loud snapping sound. Papers slid across the surface and fell to the floor.
Richard's chair rolled back slightly from the force, but he remained seated.
Mentis leaned forward over the broken desk.
His breathing grew heavier through the mask.
"How the fuck did you get your hands on this," Mentis said quietly.
Richard straightened his jacket.
He looked down at the broken desk and then back at Mentis.
He didn't answer.
Mentis grabbed the files and turned toward the door.
He walked across the room in long, heavy steps. His hand reached the door handle.
Then he paused.
Without turning around he spoke.
"You got yourself a deal."
His grip tightened around the handle.
"But if you can't provide what you promised, I will destroy everything this company built."
His voice lowered.
"And that's a promise."
He opened the door and walked out.
Mentis moved through the lower levels of HeroCorp headquarters.
-----
The restricted access corridor waited beyond the executive offices.
The hallways were quiet. The lighting changed the deeper he went.
Bright glass corridors disappeared. Concrete walls replaced them. Security doors lined the hallway.
Restricted access.
Mentis walked toward the security door with the files tucked under his arm.
He reached a reinforced door and pressed the card to the scanner.
The red light blinked once.
A soft beep followed.
The system paused, then turned green.
The door unlocked with a heavy click.
Mentis pushed it open and stepped inside.
The room beyond was a medical chamber.
Bright white lights filled the space, reflecting across smooth floors and glass panels. The smell of antiseptic hung in the air.
Machines hummed softly along the walls as Black Mentis stood near the entrance and watched.
A young hero-in-training sat in a metal chair in the center of the room.
His arms were strapped into a harness system connected to several cables.
The kid looked nervous. His fingers trembled slightly against the armrest.
A technician adjusted the straps around the hero's shoulders.
"Relax," the technician said with a fake smile. "It's just a reflex test."
The kid nodded stiffly.
Another technician leaned over a nearby monitor. His fingers moved quickly across the keyboard.
Numbers and graphs moved across the screen.
He spoke quietly while studying the data.
"If this compound hits right, we can boost their response time by ten percent."
He glanced toward the trainee.
"That'll make the next fight look cleaner on camera."
The first technician laughed softly.
Mentis stepped deeper into the room.
Neither technician noticed him.
On a side table sat several stacks of documents.
Folders.
Reports.
One thick black folder lay on top.
It was sealed with metal clamps.
Mentis walked over to the table.
He reached for the folder and opened it slowly.
The title page read:
PERFORMANCE AUGMENTATION — INTERNAL USE ONLY.
He flipped through several pages.
Charts.
Handwritten notes.
Dosage numbers.
Chemical breakdowns.
Side effects partially erased with white-out.
Hero names replaced with identification codes.
One page had a dried streak of blood along the edge.
Mentis stood there reading.
His breathing slowed.
"These bastards weren't trying to improve heroes," he muttered quietly.
"They were manufacturing them."
He closed the folder slowly and placed it back on the table.
His fingers remained on the cover for a moment.
Then he stepped away and left the room.
As he left the lab, he continued down another corridor.
Bright lights buzzed overhead.
His boots echoed softly against the floor.
Mentis walked alone holding Richard's files.
As he reached the end of the hallway, he heard voices around the corner.
Mentis stopped walking.
He moved quietly into a shadowed alcove beside a support column.
Two executives walked down the corridor, their polished shoes clicking against the floor. Both wore expensive suits.
One of them tapped a tablet screen while walking.
"We need the media to push this next fight harder," the first man said.
The tablet displayed footage of a staged battle.
"These A and B-rank heroes are throwing slow exaggerated punches at a villain's face who barely reacts."
"The public eats that shit up," the man continued. "Danger sells."
The second executive chuckled.
"Everything sells," he said. "Networks, ads, merchandise."
He adjusted his tie.
"Preorders for the new hero merch are insane."
He rubbed his chin.
"We could sell a hero plushie farting lasers and idiots would still buy it."
Mentis tightened his grip on the files.
The edges bent under his fingers.
"Are the scripts ready?" the first man asked.
"Yeah. The writers finished them last night."
The man shrugged and looked at the tablet again.
Mentis remained in the shadows listening.
"Things are getting boring out there," the executive said.
"We need tension again."
He swiped across the tablet.
"Something dramatic."
He smiled.
"Like an S ranked villain attack."
He stepped toward the elevator.
"Give the audience something to chew on."
The two men laughed as the elevator doors opened and they stepped inside.
The doors slid shut.
The hallway went silent again.
Black Mentis remained still for a moment longer.
Then he stepped out of the shadows.
His eyes glowed faintly red inside the mask as the last traces of his laser vision faded.
He looked down at the files in his hand.
His jaw clenched.
"Everything was a lie."
Then he continued down the corridor.
BACK TO PRESENT
Black Mentis blinked once.
The memory snapped away.
His reflection stared back at him from the polished elevator doors. The black mask. The faint silver seams of the armor. The cold glow behind the visor.
Nothing on the surface moved.
But beneath the armor, his fingers curled slowly, metal joints tightening.
A low growl slipped from his throat.
"…I'll make you all pay for this."
The words were quiet. Barely air.
Too low for the security cameras above the ceiling corner.
The elevator chimed.
DING.
The doors slid open.
Mentis stepped forward without hesitation. His boots hit the metal floor with a dull, heavy thud.
The doors began to close behind him.
For a moment his reflection remained split across both panels—two halves of the same figure.
Then the doors sealed shut.
When the elevator opened again, Mentis walked out into the main hallway.
Bright white lights hummed overhead.
Polished floors reflected movement like a mirror.
A cluster of recruits stood near the reception desk at the far end of the hall. Ten of them. Maybe twelve. Fresh uniforms. Nervous posture. Too much talking.
Mentis walked past them without slowing down.
His gaze stayed forward.
His shoulders never turned.
The chatter near the desk dropped instantly when several recruits noticed him passing.
A few heads turned.
Someone whispered.
Someone else straightened their spine too quickly.
Mentis didn't look at any of them.
His footsteps echoed down the corridor until he turned the corner and disappeared.
-----
Behind the reception desk, the receptionist stood upright with both hands resting flat against the polished surface.
She waited two seconds.
Then she clapped once.
Sharp.
"Alright. Listen up."
The group snapped their attention back to her. A few shuffled their feet into a straighter stance.
One recruit hurriedly stopped whispering to the person next to him.
The receptionist scanned their faces, making eye contact with several of them before continuing.
"HeroCorp's ranking system is split into tiers."
She lifted one hand slightly, palm open as she spoke.
"Each tier reflects combat ability, consistency, and confirmed field results."
She tapped the desk once with her index finger.
"This isn't about popularity. It's about what you can do when things go bad."
A few recruits nodded.
One guy near the back swallowed nervously.
Another scribbled something down on a small tablet.
A young man with spiky hair suddenly raised his hand. The motion was quick and awkward, elbow jerking upward before he seemed to realize everyone could see him.
"Is there a higher rank beyond SSS?"
Several heads turned toward him.
The receptionist didn't even blink.
"That's a good question," she said.
She shifted her weight slightly and folded one arm loosely across her stomach.
"But no. SSS is the highest rank someone can get."
She tilted her head slightly toward the group.
"Some countries have ranking systems similar to ours. Others don't use one at all."
A few recruits exchanged glances.
Someone in the front row muttered quietly, "Figures."
The receptionist continued.
"That rank is exclusive to one person in HeroCorp."
She held up one finger.
"One position only."
Her tone stayed calm, but the room had gone noticeably quieter.
"It's reserved for the single strongest hero under HeroCorp."
She leaned forward slightly, resting her palms against the desk again.
"Someone who's proven, over and over again, that they operate on a level nobody else here can match."
She paused.
"For HeroCorp, only one person holds that rank. Other organizations might allow multiple SSS heroes."
She shrugged one shoulder.
"We don't do that here."
Then her eyes drifted down the hallway.
Her chin lifted slightly as she gestured with two fingers.
"That position is currently held by Black Mentis."
Several recruits immediately turned their heads toward the corridor he had just walked down.
The receptionist pointed lazily down the hallway.
"Speak of the silver devil."
A few recruits leaned sideways trying to catch another glimpse.
One of them whispered, "That was him?"
Another muttered under his breath, "No way…"
A girl near the front folded her arms slowly, staring down the empty hall.
"He looks bigger from what we see on TV."
Black Mentis was already gone.
The receptionist clapped again, bringing the attention back.
"Alrighty."
She straightened a stack of papers on her desk even though they were already perfectly aligned.
"Next rank below SSS."
She raised two fingers.
"Rank SS."
Her eyes moved across the group again to make sure they were following.
"Second place overall."
She tapped the desk twice.
"Same rule as rank one. There's only one hero who holds that position."
A recruit shifted his weight and raised his eyebrow.
"It's an exclusive slot as well."
She nodded.
"The second strongest hero in HeroCorp, has various exceptional abilities. And certainly exceptional field results."
She lifted her shoulders slightly. Her tone hardened a bit.
"If SSS is untouchable, SS is the closest anyone gets."
A woman with bright blue hair raised her hand halfway, tilting her head as she spoke.
"And after that… the S Rankers, right?"
The receptionist snapped her fingers once and pointed at her.
"Ding ding ding. Correct."
The blue-haired woman gave a small satisfied nod.
The receptionist raised three fingers now.
"Rank S."
She turned slightly, pacing one step to the side of the desk as she spoke.
"Positions three through ten."
She held her hand out flat.
"This is still elite territory."
She looked across the group again.
"So basically the third ranked hero up to rank ten are considered S-Rankers."
Several recruits shifted uncomfortably hearing the numbers.
Someone whispered quietly, "So only ten…"
The receptionist continued.
"Rank S includes eight heroes total."
She pointed toward the hallway again.
"From S-3 to S-10."
Her voice slowed slightly.
"Every one of them is dangerous."
She let the silence sit for a moment.
"Every one of them has a reputation."
A recruit scratched the back of his neck.
Another leaned forward slightly, clearly interested now.
"These are the names civilians recognize."
She folded her arms loosely.
"They work as a team."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"Rank one leads them."
She lifted a finger.
"Rank two acts as the vice leader."
Then she opened her hand toward the recruits.
"The rest fill different roles depending on their abilities."
"Tanks."
"Healers."
"Combat specialists."
"Support."
One recruit quietly murmured, "Like a raid squad."
The receptionist gave a small shrug.
"If that helps you understand it."
She leaned both hands on the desk again.
"And yes…"
Her eyes moved slowly across the room.
"You'll meet them eventually."
A few recruits straightened immediately.
One of them whispered,
"…holy shit."
A muscular man near the back shifted his stance and leaned forward. His arms folded tightly across his chest as he spoke.
"What about everyone below S rank? If those top slots are already filled, how do we ever reach them?"
The receptionist turned her head toward him. One eyebrow lifted slightly.
She rested one hand on the desk and pushed herself upright.
"Don't worry," she said. "HeroCorp is planning to expand the ranking system."
She stepped out from behind the desk and began walking slowly in front of the group, heels tapping lightly against the polished floor.
"We are going national first. After that, we are moving into Europe. When that happens, the exclusivity on some of these ranks will loosen."
She stopped in front of the recruits and raised one finger.
"In the next two years, the S rank alone will open dozens of additional slots. Around fifty positions are planned once the expansion finishes."
A few recruits straightened at that.
One of them whispered, "Fifty?"
The receptionist nodded once.
"That expansion means new heroes. It means promotion exams. It means some of you will actually have a path upward."
She turned and walked back behind the desk.
"Now. Let us talk about the rank below S."
She placed both palms flat on the desk again.
"Rank A."
Her voice carried easily across the room.
"These are the heroes ranked eleven through thirty in the overall system."
She tapped the desk once with her knuckle.
Tap.
"When you drop below S-10, the numbering resets inside the rank."
She held up one finger.
"Rank eleven becomes A-1."
She lifted another finger.
"Rank twelve becomes A-2."
Her fingers continued until she held up a full hand.
"All the way up to A-30."
She paused and looked across the room.
"I know that sounds confusing at first."
A few recruits exchanged glances.
One of them rubbed the back of his neck.
The receptionist continued.
"A-1 is technically the eleventh strongest hero in HeroCorp. However, inside the A category, they are treated as number one."
She leaned slightly forward.
"When someone surpasses A-1, they move up and take the final S rank position at S-10."
The recruits listened more carefully now.
"A rank has thirty slots," she continued. "However, when you count the full system, there are technically thirty-nine heroes included in that power bracket."
One recruit frowned and scratched his head.
"So A-1 is not really rank eleven anymore?"
"Correct," she said without hesitation.
"A-1 is simply the top hero inside A rank."
She lifted her hand and pointed lightly toward the group.
"Once someone defeats them in ranking trials or surpasses them in field results, they move into S rank."
She looked across their faces.
"Does that make sense?"
The recruits looked at each other.
Several nodded slowly.
One recruit near the front scribbled notes rapidly on a small tablet.
Another raised his hand slightly.
"Can you tell us how strong the A rankers actually are?"
The receptionist nodded once.
"Rank A heroes are powerful."
She spoke calmly but firmly.
"They handle major threats."
Her fingers tapped the desk again.
"City-level incidents."
She raised her hand slightly.
"High-risk missions."
Her eyes moved across the group.
"They just have not broken into the top ten yet. That is the only difference."
She leaned back a little.
"Many of them are still extremely dangerous."
The spiky-haired recruit from earlier shifted his feet and looked impressed.
"They are still overpowered compared to most heroes."
A petite woman with glasses raised her pen slightly.
"And what about B rankers?"
The receptionist turned her attention toward her.
"Rank B covers heroes ranked thirty-one through fifty in the global structure."
The woman with glasses blinked.
"So there are twenty of them?"
The receptionist shook her head slowly.
"Not exactly."
She picked up a pen from the desk and spun it between her fingers.
"The numbering resets again when the new rank begins."
She placed the pen back down.
"Thirty one becomes B-1."
She lifted her hand again.
"Fifty becomes B-20 and so on."
She watched the recruits carefully to make sure they were following.
"The ranking titles restart, but the overall structure remains."
One recruit near the side spoke quietly.
"So B-1 is technically the thirty-first strongest hero even though there's like close to 40 in A rank."
The receptionist pointed at him.
"Exactly."
She nodded.
"There are twenty B rank heroes at the moment."
She rested her hands together in front of her.
"These heroes are solid combatants."
Her tone remained steady.
"They are reliable in the field."
She tilted her head slightly.
"Some of you might start here if you perform well in testing."
The spiky-haired recruit swallowed hard.
"And after B rank?"
"It moves into rank C."
She spoke clearly.
"These are heroes ranked fifty-one through one hundred in the global structure."
She raised one finger again.
"Inside the category, they are called C-1 through C-50."
One recruit near the front frowned.
"So the person who is fifty-one becomes C-1?"
"Yes."
She nodded.
"You understood that correctly."
She crossed one arm and tapped her elbow lightly.
"C rank heroes are the backbone of the system."
Her eyes swept across the room.
"They handle patrols."
She lifted a finger.
"They assist in emergency response."
Another finger.
"They manage crowd control."
Her gaze sharpened slightly.
"You will not see their faces on billboards."
She paused.
"But without them, the entire system falls apart."
The room stayed quiet for a moment.
Then she continued.
"And finally we have rank D."
Several recruits shifted their posture immediately.
"Heroes ranked one hundred one through two hundred."
She looked directly at them now.
"Inside that category they are labeled D-1 through D-100."
Her expression remained calm.
"Most new recruits begin here."
She tapped the desk again.
"Fresh heroes just like you."
Her fingers folded together.
"People who just discovered their abilities."
She let her eyes move slowly across the group again.
"Inexperienced heroes basically."
Her voice lowered slightly.
"They still need to prove they belong in this organization."
The recruits stood quietly.
No one spoke for a few seconds.
The receptionist clasped her hands together.
"You move up through results."
She gave a small shrug.
"You move down through failure."
She looked at them evenly.
"There are no shortcuts here."
Then she added one more thing.
"HeroCorp leadership is also discussing the creation of E and F ranks in the future."
Several recruits glanced at each other.
One whispered quietly, "Damn…"
The receptionist ignored the comment.
The weight of the system settled over the room.
No one spoke.
-----
Further down the hallway, Black Mentis stopped in front of a heavy office door.
He stood still.
His shoulders lifted slightly as he inhaled.
Then his jaw tightened beneath the mask.
A slow breath left his chest.
His gloved hand reached forward.
His fingers wrapped around the metal handle.
He turned it.
The door opened.
------