Paragon: Assault

            “My name is Paragon.”

            The god-man, in his silver suit with blue cape dancing in the desert breeze, spun out of the way of the giant pterodactyl’s lunge.  He barely escaped the beast’s closing jaws as he shot up higher into the sky, flying straight up for just a moment before arcing downward.

            He hurtled down, slamming into the giant, prehistoric creature.  Grabbing it by the wings, he used his strength and momentum to rocket the pair of them to the ground, dinosaur-first. 

            “On Earth, they gave me that name because they see me as a hero.  Stalwart.  Noble.  Always knowing the right thing to do…and doing it without hesitation.”

            The impact shook the desert landscape for miles all around ground zero.  When the dust had settled, the man in the silver suit stood up.  The pterodactyl did not.

            “It’s easy to know the right thing to do when it comes to monsters like this.  They’re out for blood.  Which means I have to stop them before they can get it.”

            He floated up from the crater, hovering over the limp body of the ancient reptile for a moment before setting down on the crater’s edge.  He had stopped one monster, but spread out before him in the great waste of the Sahara, there were a thousand more.

            “And honestly, stopping bad guys is easy too.  For me.  I can fly.  I’m stronger than fifty men.  I can break the sound barrier without breaking a sweat.  Truth be told, the bad guys can do all of that and more.”

            There were no more dinosaurs to face, but there was all manner of other villains.  There were time travelers armed with futuristic weapons that pulsed with a rainbow of different energy signatures.  There were robots, big and small, arming their canons and locking in on their lone target.  There were mad scientists with remotes in hand, controlling large and lethal vehicles, armed and armored to the gills.  There were aliens; some humanoid and some not, raising their unearthly voices to the sky and bellowing their various war cries.  In all cases, the message was clear: they had come to destroy.

            “Over the years, I’ve made a lot of enemies.  One by one, I faced them.  One by one, I was able to outmatch or outsmart them.  And one by one, they all vowed to destroy me some day.  And now they’re here.  All together.  Looking to make good on that pledge.”

            Almost as one, the horde began its advance.  The ground shivered under their collective steps.

            But Paragon did not flinch.  He did not back away.  He walked forward, head held high, slowly closing the gap between him and certain doom.

            “But here.  Now.  They don’t stand a chance.  Because I have one superpower that none of them do.  My greatest superpower…”

            Paragon kicked off the sandy turf, flying forward at a hurtle.  As he gained speed, he brought his hands up in front of him, closing them into fists.  He was a speeding bullet, rocketing toward a tidal wave of murderous intent.

            “My greatest superpower is that I’m writing this story.  The one you’re reading.  And I get to decide how it ends.”

            The bullet collided with the voluminous mass of charging villains, but instead of getting swallowed up, it broke right through.  Wave after wave of evil-doers were knocked aside.  When the dust had settled, not a one of them was left standing.

            “It ends with me plowing through them all, but letting them live to fight another day.  It’s the right thing to do, and I always do the right thing.  Because I’m the one who gets to decide what the right thing is.”

            Paragon gently landed on the crest of a hill of sand, looking down on the unconscious bodies he’d left in his wake.  The sun; at its zenith; shone down on the great hero, setting the blue and sliver of his suit aglow.

            He put his hands on his hips and smiled at his handiwork.  Another day, another job done.  The world had been saved yet again.

            “Proud of yourself?”

            “Excuse me?”

            “You heard me.”

            “Who is this?  How are you…”

            “Inserting myself?  Writing in the margins of your story?  I’m afraid that is a question for another time.  Provided you can survive long enough.”

            “Why wouldn’t I?  I’m the author of this story.  I control what happens here.”

            “True.  Very true.  But yours is a single story.  In a wide world beyond.”

            “Who are you?”

            “I am a part of that Beyond.”

            “What does that mean?  Why are you here?”

            “I’m here because it’s time you faced a real challenge.  I’m here…to shake things up.”

To Be Continued…

            “I’m the one who decides on the cliffhangers to end on.”

            “Hello?”

            “No one writes my story but me!”

            “Are you listening?!  Hello?!”