There was no mistaking it. That was Miss Eternal, legendary superhero. She'd been around for longer than all of them, as far as anyone could tell. Captain Solar might be a bigger name, but Miss Eternal was an icon in her own right. She'd fought the Axis in WWII, strived for peace during the cold war, and she'd been in paintings made during the Renaissance era. By all accounts, she was immortal.
But then, how could she be bleeding out before you? There was no mistaking it. Her green cloak was stained a deep, dark red, the hole torn in her torso enormous and ragged. The bright white clock sigil on her chest was fading, and somewhere above you you could hear a ticking sound. Or maybe you were just imagining it. Her big brown eyes had gone unfocused with the pain, lost in a haze of chaos and agony.
You stepped forward. For what reason, you didn't know. Maybe you wanted to comfort her in her final moments, or to once again verify that you were actually seeing what you were seeing. And yes, it was her. Her face was half covered in a bright red mask, leaving her eyes and jawline exposed, her dark black tresses splayed across the earth. Her eyes regained their focus and then locked onto you with a sudden fierce determination. You swore you could feel your heart skip a beat.
"Y-you..." she gurgled through the blood bubbling up in her throat. "C-closer....please..." She beckoned you forward. And how could you refuse? This was a hero...one of the Council. You couldn't let her die alone. You reached forward, tears springing up unbidden as your hands grew closer together. Closer...closer...and then... contact!
Her grip tightened until it was painful, until you had no hope of escaping it. "W-what?" You cried out, confused by the sudden aggression until you looked up. And then your eyes locked again, blue into brown. It was magnetic, that gaze. You stood there, locked into place, eye to eye with a dying hero, until you felt something change. A transference of energy, from her into you, and a whisper of "Thank you."
A flood of information assaulted you. Names, dates, places...memories. And bigger and louder than any of them was the presence of her. Miss Eternal. Somehow...somehow you knew she was in your body now. This was how she'd lived for so long. Her gift, and her curse. Whoever was in her presence when she died became the next host...the next vessel for her heroism. And that was you now.
You gasped, tried to run away, to somehow stop all of this from happening, but your legs were rooted to the floor. They no longer responded to your commands. No, they were hers now, forever and until the day this vessel ceased to be. That was all you were now. All you would ever be...a voice in the back of her mind until she moved on. You wanted to scream in terror. But then the worst part arrived.
Your entire existence as Alex Heywood would be erased. No one would remember you, or that you'd even existed. It was part of the curse. Not even Richie would remember that there was such a person as you.
Your limbs tingled as the curse worked to reshape your body into something more familiar to its new inhabitant. Your flesh bubbled and shifted beneath your t-shirt, chest rising up to match the ludicrous shape that Miss Eternal was known for. Your cargo shorts strained to contain the massive rear end pushing against it. Your skin grew darker, until it was the same shade as the corpse in front of you, a dark bronze. You winced as your facial features pushed into each other, rearranging themselves into the slightly worn features of an elegant woman in her mid-40s...eternally. Something brushed against your back...her hair. Yours now, curtains of raven black curls bouncing as your body's new owner stood to her full height.
Her lips curled into a frown as she took in the sight of her reincarnated form, childish clothing barely clinging to her frame. She was a lady of elegance and class, and far beyond such crass modern style. She shook her head, realizing she was no longer alone in her head. "Ah, apologies," she spoke aloud with your own tongue. "This seems dire, I know, but stick around and I'll show you that it's not so bad," she promised, her voice lightly accented. British, maybe. "But there's no time to coddle you, friend. I have to take down this foe. It's a matter of life and death."
Wasn't it always? You watched as she dropped into a crouch, strength gathering in her legs as she prepared to leap into action. The muscles in her well-sculpted legs tensed and then she was off, flying into the air. You were flying! You barely had time to take in the feeling of wind rushing past your face, all the world at your command.
You landed right in front of the villain, who was...
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