Project Prometheus (Original Setting Superhero Quest)

Jacob's Ladder – Justice Unlimited Satellite Headquarters – October 16, 2067


It's been one month since the Movement—one week since you were medically cleared to use your powers—and you've yet to do anything about the world burning around you.

That is unlike you. Hesitation, doubt, ceding the initiative—those are the furthest things from who Lei Zixuan is. Your entire life, you have survived by being one step ahead, being a little more prepared, being that much better informed. Stagnation is death, and to have stopped completely makes you feel like you're no longer yourself.

And yet.

"When we first met, I hated you immediately," you speak into the empty room, "Both of you."

You're in your personal quarters in the Ladder. Securing a base here was a stroke of luck; a subcontractor was illegally using an unmapped area for heavy machine storage during the construction of the ladder and decided to sell its location rather than let it be reabsorbed by a corp. You wasted no time having Yazmin buy the subcontractor out, sending Towarri and Harper to impress upon him the need to not double-cross you, and letting Nora, Rakeem, and Evie turn the area into a functional headquarters. In a matter of months, Justice Unlimited had a secret base on the most coveted real estate in Horizon.

Your room, naturally, was the largest.

"I had worked so hard to escape from Father's grasp. There was only one role for a metahuman in his world, and I did not wish to be an attack dog."

In that largest room, you were kneeling before your bed and speaking to a picture. The dim flicker of candlelight illuminated the world around you. You felt preposterous.

"I had my own men, my own territory, my own organization. My name was becoming something to be feared."

And yet.

"I lost all of that in an instant. Two fools defeated me like an afterthought. The people I thought I had so thoroughly cowed, turned on me, without a moment of hesitation. They fed my location to two amateur heroes, all for the promise of a 'better tomorrow.'"

The faces of Nora and Yazmin, Valiant Silver and Uiara, stared back at you. Technically, you were looking at two photos, both contained in a double frame. The photo on the left was nearly ten years old, showing a much younger version of yourself, Nora, Yazmin, Rakeem, Harper, Evie and Rosemary. The photo on the right was taken a year after Rosemary's death and had Towarri in her place.

"I suspected the truth then, but I needed confirmation. I followed you two relentlessly, determined to learn where I went wrong. I would not be a footnote." Your lips twitch at the memory, so absurd now. "Until, to my surprise, one day you asked me to join you. It always irked you that I was member 003, didn't it Rakeem?"

Adamant's softly smiling face doesn't answer you. Of course it doesn't. The Adamantium Man is dead. What exactly are you trying to accomplish with this? You nearly get up, but something tugs the words out of you. They pour from your lips like water from a faucet.

"I joined Justice Unlimited, and, to even my surprise, I stayed. I stayed after we separated from New Dawn. I stayed after we lost dear Rosemary. I even stayed after we turned our backs on our dear leader."

Yours was the only vote against benching Valiant Silver. You understood why she had to keep fighting. Perfection for an instant or mediocrity for a lifetime? That wasn't a real choice at all.

"I forgot about my search. I grew complacent. And now I am alone."

The photographs were The Red Huntress' idea. Harper insisted it would be "cute" to take a yearly photo of the team and look back to see how everyone grew. She insisted you would appreciate it when "Your memory started failing." At age 33, you are—were—the oldest member of Justice Unlimited and that fact was endlessly amusing to Harper.

That bitch. How you miss her. You squeeze your hands and bow your head.

"How dare you? How dare all of you?"

Your voice is a hiss, like gas escaping from a valve.

"It was here! It was here all along and now it is gone."

The photograph does not answer you.

"The truth is," you say, your head still bowed, "Is that there is something wrong with me. Something missing."

In both pictures you smirk behind your sunglasses, partially hidden behind Rosemary in one and Rakeem in the other. Separate from everyone else, yet unquestionably one of them. You look so blissfully relaxed that you can't recognize yourself.

"I can't make people feel the way all of you could," you confess, "I can make them fear me. I can even make them love me. But I cannot make them believe in me."

Everytime you look at the photos, you remember the warmth you felt those days. A warmth you still don't understand.

"And now, Justice Unlimited is mine. How dare you fools die and leave it all to me?"

Your heavy breathing is the only sound in the room. There's something flowing through your veins that you don't understand. It's a heat, a warmth that's foreign and familiar all at once. You try to cling to it, but, as always, it slips through your grasp.

You then tilt the photo over, face down on the bed, and rise. You feel . . . better. Cleansed.

"I cannot remake Unlimited into what it was. I cannot build the future you all saw without you. All I can ever be is myself."

You extinguish the candles to end whatever this ludicrous ritual was. As you begin to leave the room, something turns your legs to lead. The feeling comes back. One more admission then.

"I don't know if there is any love in my heart to give. But if there is, it has always belonged to all of you."

The room does not reply with either contrition or condemnation. You feel cold.


You are Lady Leizi. The world saw fit to take everything from Justice Unlimited, except for its hidden knife. You will make it regret doing so.


When you next walk down the sterile halls of Jacob's Ladder, you do so as a new person. You move with an assured, calculated step meant to convey the importance of your task without any urgency. What little support staff is on site scurries out of your way with nary a word.

You allow yourself a small, satisfied smile and continue on your way to your meeting with Dr. Ibis and Mssr. Chaucer. The meeting that will determine the future of Justice Unlimited, Horizon, and, if a little melodrama can be forgiven, quite possibly the entire world.

Naturally, you come to them not as Lei Zixuan, but as the superhero Lady Leizi.

To that end, you are wearing your uniform. Not costume—you'll leave the spandex to others, thank you—but your outfit that makes your identity clear. A sleeveless, purple qipao-top embroidered with golden flowers, black pants that cinch at the waist and flare at the bottoms for style, pointed, steel-toe black boot heels, and a great, black coat worn across the shoulders.

Mostly because you get cold.

You stop to readjust your fingerless gloves and ensure that not a strand of your long, slicked back hair was out of place. Towarri had once commented that you looked less like a superhero and more like a gangster from a wuxia movie. You told her that was exactly right.

You were never a fan of the "superhero" aesthetic. Too much garish clothing and displaying oneself for attention, like a peacock. You preferred to dress like a coral snake, giving the world fair warning to your danger.

The one allowance to impracticality you indulged were the dark, round sunglasses that covered your eyes. They did nearly nothing to hide your identity the way a mask would. You just liked how they looked.

You waited a moment until you were just late enough to be fashionable—but not late enough to be rude—and entered the cramped meeting room.

"Joelle, dear, it's so lovely to see you!" you call to the burly man sitting at a round table, "What a terrible burden you've been given."

Chaucer stands and you greet him with a quick kiss on each cheek. There are dark circles under his eyes and his clothing hangs noticeably looser than before. But there's a steely glint in his eye and a determined set to his jaw.

"No more terrible than yours, Ms. Lei. Or should I call you . . .?

"Lady Leizi," you affirm, "Today, we are here on business, not pleasure."

"I would say so!" a petulant person pipes in, "There's no pleasure to be had blathering on!"

On the other side of a table is a decidedly unkempt man, wiry thin with spindly arms and long arms, like his namesake.

"Of course, Dr. Ibis," you say with a sharp nod, "We should proceed immediately. Wasting even a moment the time of a man of your brilliance is something the world cannot afford."

"More talking, my—oh." The doctor stopped cold. "Uh, yes, exactly."

"Exactly," you coo, moving to his side of the table. "And just allow me to say, thank you for being a part of Project Prometheus, Doctor. Without your intelligence, it's safe to say that the world would be doomed. Truly, you will be remembered as a man among men."

"Y-yes, of course." Ibis blinked. "Well, it's nice to see someone appreciates genius! Yes, I, Dr. Mammoth Ibis, am happy to move humanity forward!"

"Thank you, Doctor," you say with an easy smile. Goodness. If the doctor puffed himself up any further, his chest would pop.

"No need to thank me!" he said with false modesty, "It was my duty! Who else, but Dr. Mammoth Ibis could complete that dunce, Valiant Silver's, formula? Truly, it was an act of magnanimity."

"Ah." Your smile becomes a trifle fixed. "Did you know dear Nora well, Doctor?"

"Valiant Silver? No. That arrogant buffoon never deigned to speak with me. The gall! The lack of respect for the mind of a generation!"

"I see," you say, moving behind the doctor and placing a hand on his shoulder, "And what a mind it is. But, I feel I must inform you there are currently twenty-three known Algernon-type metahumans active in Horizon."

"Oh?" Dr. Ibis said, nonplussed, "What do they have to do with anything?"

"Because, Doctor," you begin. Your expression doesn't change but your grip becomes vise-like, sparks jumping between your knuckles, "If you continue to insult my former team, I'll be forced to throw you off the top of the Ladder and get one of them to administer the formula instead."

Before he can fully process what you said, you place a hand on his cheek and lean forward, electrical current dancing on your fingers.

"That would be a terrible waste, Doctor. A terrible waste. One that would keep me up at night. Don't do that to me. Please?"

"A-ah," Ibis stammered, "B-but of course."

"Thank you, Doctor," you say with a smile. Then, without another word, you move to the head of the table and sit down.

Chaucer shoots you a grateful expression and then begins pulling up several graphs on the table's holographic display. Ibis remains in a disturbed stupor, but eventually shakes himself out of it.

You allow yourself an insouciant grin. "Shall we begin, gentlemen?"


". . . and that concludes an assessment of available assets," Chaucer says, "We have enough remaining funds to maintain our base on the Ladder for a few more months as well as train and equip exactly one new metahuman. Most of our support staff are more than happy just to have a safe place to stay, but once things hopefully stabilize on Horizon proper they'll be wanting to be compensated as well."

You nod. "More than I feared, less than I hoped."

"I don't suppose you have any funds stashed away, Lady Leizi?"

[REQUIRED: You are Uiara. Requirement not met.]

"No," you shake your head, "My personal funds are meager compared to our needs. And most of them are tied up in investments in the city."

Chaucer sighs, looking resigned. "I anticipated as much. I'm lacking any further liquidity at the moment as well. I suppose we must make sources of revenue a priority, then."

"None of the boroughs are honoring our old contracts?" you ask.

[REQUIRED: You are Radiant Silvergirl. Requirement not met.]

"No. They've all suspended them out of concern of an 'inability to perform.' The representatives from the Worker's Mitt and Old Industrial District at least expressed a willingness to renew if we can demonstrate we have the power to keep them safe."

"Unfortunate," you say, "But not unexpected. From what I can glean, the whole city is in chaos after the Movement. There is a fear the Leviathan might wake up again."

Chaucer looks at you desperately. "Can we be certain it will not? Do you understand anything about what happened a month ago?"

[REQUIRED: You are Valiant Silver. Requirement not met.]

You sigh in genuine frustration. "Only that there was some sort of psychic event that Nora put a stop to. How and why are beyond even my knowledge."

"Then Project Prometheus truly is our best hope."

At that, the dozing Dr. Ibis snaps to attention. "Yes! As I have been saying. We should be mass-producing metahumans before word gets out and every government on the planet comes after my Ambrosia!"

[REQUIRED: You are Lady Leizi. Requirement met.]

"That's nothing we need to worry about in the immediate future." You hadn't been entirely idle this last month. "As far as the world at large knows, Dr. Ibis is dead and an imposter is using his identity. They also believe that I've contacted the cartels on the mainland seeking metahumans in exchange for an alliance."

"What?" Dr. Ibis said.

"Brilliant," Chaucer replied at the same time, "We'll have to make an effort to hide our recruits' civilian identities, but this will buy us some time from discovery."

"Speaking of which," you say, tapping the data slate in front of you, "I've reviewed our candidates and added my own observations."


"Aha, so we can finally begin then!" Dr. Ibis shouted, his eyes gleaming, "At last!"

"Yes, Doctor," you agree, "I believe the first member of our new Justice Unlimited will be . . ."

[ ] . . . Rhys Gardner.

[ ] . . . Mona Merola-Morales.

[ ] . . . John Henry Rhodes.


You are Lady Leizi, the spymaster of Horizon. As Lady Leizi, you will receive extra intel for every potential metahuman candidate. Additionally, because of your extensive spy-network, you may once per turn mission reduce the difficulty of any ESPIONAGE check for yourself or others by 3.