Champions of the Multiverse: Prologue

Far on the west coast of the United States of America lies the city of Willowsford Cove. Once a settlement set up during the 1850s gold rush, it became a popular fishing town near the turn of the century. Eventually, it developed into a massive metropolis honoring both the sciences and the arts. Its constant march towards the future has turned it into one of the top cities in the USA, rivaling others like New York, Los Angeles and Chicago.

Within the city limits, and near the beating heart of it all, lies one of the most critical buildings to lend to its rise: the Spire. A soaring skyscraper of scientific study. Home to many scientists of varying disciplines, it has led to the advancement of many technologies that have been developed over the decades. From pushing the limits of astronomy to looking deep into the realm of biology, there are few scientific domains that the Spire will research into (at least, within reasonable and altruistic avenues). However, there is even one achievement that rises among all others within the building.

In this world, 'superheroes' have been a uncommon occurrence over the decades. They walk among the people in pursuit of both noble and responsible goals. They are protectors and servants, aiding the world as it climbs into a new future. Many have come together to form teams  to help in these goals and the one residing in the Spire is no exception. They are often called 'the best' among others, with talents that are as varied as the members they hold. Mystics and mutants, scientists and diplomats, soldiers and oddities: they accept many into their ranks that prove their worth. For accepting the best, they are apply named: the All-Stars.

While many of its members are out protecting and defending, there is still one who resides inside. He is considered a 'force of nature' in many ways. He is a trained combatant, studying with the best from all around the world. He has pushed his body to the peak of physical conditioning and bears the scars of his efforts. On top of it all is his ability to channel the electrical power of storms through his body. Befitting his station, he wears a garb of black and yellow, marked with lighting imagery and combat protection.

His real name is Tyler Moore. On the job, he is known as STORMCRACKER!

Here he sits, in a room of monitors to watch over the city. Bored.

This was not supposed to be his life, Tyler thought. He was supposed to be the heavyweight boxing champion, an old goal from his youth. Thanks to an unfortunate accident that has granted him his powers, he has been barred from entering any professional fighting league. He then started venturing around the world, studying with other masters to learn their skills and shunning his own superhuman abilities. It wasn't until a meeting with the super-suited hero known as Vanguard that he was offered a new pursuit. A chance to fight against the worst the world had to offer and protect people in the process. In his own mind, Tyler was more into the challenge than the nobility of it all.

Stormcracker has had his fair share of fights since joining the team, as well as his share of defeats. Still, losses are not something that he moans over. He only sees them as acknowledgment of needed improvement, though not in one such area. Even while pushing his physical capabilities to the limit, his superhuman skills are stilted. He hasn't gone beyond the basic nature of his abilities, at most learning how to shifting into an 'electrical' form to achieve flight. Despite the possibilities, Tyler sees his powers more as a hindrance than a help. Something that took away his old dream long ago.

But that was then. For now, Tyler is focusing on the present. The boring, uneventful present. He glazes through the different monitor screens, covering major parts of the city to keep track of any trouble. It seems almost peaceful, save for minor bits of petty crime. Not exactly something that a 'superhero' like him is needed for. Even now, he can see a few police officers arresting someone for vandalism, graffitiing someone's car as an act of revenge. Good work for them, but not for Stormcracker. He just presses a few buttons on the monitor board to check in.

“This is Stormcracker,” he says in a low, timber voice. “Just checking in at the top of the hour. Nothing important going on. One more hour to go.” He signals the end of his message before leaving back in his chair and letting out a heavy sigh. Not exactly the best use of his time. 'The sooner it ends, the better' in his mind.

Suddenly, there is a shift. Not in the chair, but something. Stormcracker feels it, like in the air itself. Like an electrical charge on the back of his neck. He sits up a bit, trying to take notice around him, but doesn't see anything. Something is off, even if it cannot be seen. As he turns around to look behind, a white light engulfs his vision.

Within an instant, Stormcracker is gone. Where he went, no one knows. At least, not yet...