(Un webcomic informal en el mundo de HERO CONVIRTIÉNDOSE, la novela sobre un personaje de cómic que dispara a su autor, y el lector de cómics que puede tener que detenerse. Gran ficción de superhéroes meta para los fanáticos de Deadpool, Animal Man, El último gran héroe, Más extraño que la ficción, Superboy Prime, Ella Hulk, Cerebrus del Aardvark, Ambush Bug, y otra cuarta pared para romper el autor reunión “rabia contra el autor” tropists.)
Five superheroes sit around a dimly-lit poker table in some dark basement somewhere. Mark’s spread a map on the table.
Skye lounges back with his feet on the table, uber-relaxed. Butterfly sits very appropriately, with her fingers crossed almost as if in prayer. Natasha stands intensely over the table with one foot on a chair and her fist on the corner of the map. Robotman stands with arms crossed.
Butterfly: “I wasn’t even aware the Scythes were fighting the Mafia—they did not have a conflicting market. The Mafia does drugs, the Scythes did experimentation on superhumans.”
Natasha: “Not much crossover between those.”
Mark points to a photograph of a ring, above the map. It’s a ring with a Harvard medical school logo on it.
Mark: “Until this guy. Psych, they call him. He’s gotten your local Mafia into a bigger weapons’ market, and that now includes superhuman tech.”
Robotman: “That’s who stole everything from the Scythes’ warehouse after we took them out to avenge Pink.”
Skye rises to leave the room, looking discouraged. Natasha notices.
Basement “kitchen”, dingy, with an old-looking fridge. Through the door we can still see into the lit “poker” room where the other heroes are strategizing.
Natasha: “So what, you know all this already?”
Skye: “Not now, Thunder. I don’t want to be scolded, and I don’t want to think. I just want them to tell me who to hit, and then I want to hit them.”
Natasha: “Is it because of what I said? About us never dating?”
Skye: “It doesn’t help.”