[These are the Superhero levels by rank:
Level 5: 50-55
Level 4: 56-65
Level 3: 66-75
Level 2: 76-80
Level 1: 81-90
Level 0 has a special name (World Hero): 91-100]
.....
The Blacksmith and his manager, Kurt Rauch, landed in New York on a bitterly cold afternoon. It was a sharp contrast to the blistering South African heat they'd left behind. There, the sun had cooked the pavement. Here? Balls froze.
Despite the jaw-dropping buyout Horizon Heroes had paid to release him from Mzansi Heroes Co., they'd flown economy. Kurt called it "budget efficiency." Tanaka called it "cheap."
At the arrivals gate, a stunning blonde woman in a fur coat waited for them. Her ocean-blue eyes sparkled, and the scent of expensive perfume drifted through the air, making Kurt smile before she'd even spoken.
"Oh my God," she gushed, stepping forward, hand extended toward Tanaka, "I can't believe I'm standing with The Blacksmith himself."
Tanaka shook her hand, offering a polite smile.
Kurt cleared his throat loudly, angling his shoulders forward. "And his super manager, Kurt Rauch. Let's not forget the backbone of the operation."
The woman's eyes flicked to him, amused. "Ah, Mr. Rauch, of course. I believe we spoke on the phone?"
"Indeed we did," Kurt beamed. "And you are?"
"Laura," she replied with a practiced smile. "Laura Bennet."
"That's a beautiful name," Kurt said, placing his gloved hand theatrically over his chest. "I know a few Lauras myself… all gorgeous, just like you."
Laura's expression barely flickered. Flattery rolled off her like water off glass.
She pivoted smoothly toward Tanaka. "How was Joburg?"
"Beautiful..." Kurt jumped in before Tanaka could speak, flashing his salesman grin. "Everything there, absolutely beautiful."
Laura didn't argue. She'd been trained to be polite. And more importantly, she was being paid to be polite.
Tanaka finally cut in, shrugging. "Hot as hell. Like jumping from an oven straight into a freezer."
Kurt barked out a hearty laugh, steam curling from his mouth in the cold.
"You'll get used to our weather soon," Laura said with a faint smile. Her eyes lingered on Tanaka, studying him like a puzzle. "New York has its… charms."
She gestured down the curb. "Come on, let's get you out of the cold."
They followed her to a sleek, charcoal-black Cadillac Escalade, engine quietly humming, tinted windows reflecting the gray sky.
Laura opened the back door with professional grace. Tanaka ducked inside, but out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Kurt making a beeline for the front passenger seat.
"Kurt…" Tanaka muttered under his breath, frowning. Same old Kurt, always chasing proximity to power, even in a car.
Kurt winked at him as he climbed in, grinning like he'd just negotiated world peace.
Laura slid in behind the wheel, glanced back at Tanaka through the rearview mirror, and smiled faintly. "Buckle up, gentlemen. Welcome to New York."
Johannesburg was a busy city, Africa's economic heart, pulsing with people, taxis, and traffic that could test a saint. But compared to New York?
Small fry.
The gridlocked streets here were a different beast altogether. Horns blared from every direction. Impatient drivers shouted out windows. Cabs weaved recklessly through tight gaps like they were auditioning for a Fast & Furious remake.
Tanaka hated it.
Patience wasn't his thing. Never had been. Right now, sitting cramped in the back of the Escalade, inching forward at a snail's pace, he was one bad mood away from suiting up and flying to their destination instead.
But that would end badly.
He'd wind up lost in the maze of skyscrapers, or worse, flagged as an unidentified metahuman. New York's superhero patrol wouldn't hesitate to light him up, foreigner or not. The last thing he needed was a headline reading: African Hero Mistaken for Terrorist, Nearly Vaporized in Midtown.
Kurt, meanwhile, was making the most of the traffic jam. He leaned forward in his seat, drowning Laura Bennet in stories of his "accomplishments" back home. Some were real. Most? Fabrications polished to perfection.
"Managed three top-tier contracts in one week," Kurt boasted. "Broke agency records. Might've redefined the entire African hero market, really."
Laura hummed politely, her expression unreadable behind designer sunglasses.
Tanaka barely heard them.
His mind was elsewhere, on the towering skyline outside, the streets filled with faces, energy, history. He was finally here. America. The homeland of the legends. The playground of the world's greatest superheroes.
But the question nagged at him:
How was he going to stand out?
Could The Blacksmith, a kid from South Africa with swords and muscle, earn a spot alongside the titans?
Could his name become one of the greats?
Like Firepower.
The thought made his chest tighten. Meeting Firepower, the number one, the global icon, the man he'd watched dominate headlines, was inevitable now. Horizon Heroes had already signed him. It was only a matter of time.
He wished they were heading to the Horizon HQ right now. But Laura had other plans.
Their first stop? West Chelsea.
Corporate apartments. Temporary accommodations for recruits. Luxurious by most standards, but not where Tanaka wanted to be.
Three days.
That's how long they had before the official induction at Horizon Heroes Headquarters.
Three days? It might as well have been a lifetime.
***********************************************
Three Days Later – Horizon Heroes Headquarters
The Horizon Heroes building rose like a giant blade of glass, towering above the Manhattan skyline. Its reflective panels gleamed under the winter sun, and massive banners bearing the agency's symbol, an eagle wrapped around a globe, snapped in the wind.
Today, Tanaka was standing inside what he'd only ever seen on TV, posters, and magazine covers.
Kurt leaned in, his voice low. "Relax, my boy. First impressions? Everything."
Tanaka rolled his eyes as he scanned the massive training hall they were standing in, the Horizon Heroes private gym. It wasn't just a gym. It looked more like a high-tech arena built for gods.
Holographic displays flickered above, and larger-than-life posters lined the walls, showcasing the agency's elite:
Firepower. The Boulder. Red Ray. Quickjet. Captain Helena.
The top five. LevelOne and Zero heroes. Ratings ranging from 81 to 94.5. Icons, every single one.
Tanaka was Level Five.
The new kid with everything to prove.
Today, he wasn't wearing his street clothes. He was geared up, his sleek black combat suit hugged his frame, reinforced with lightweight armor plates. His two steel-forged swords were strapped across his back, their weight familiar, grounding.
They were here to be tested.
And they weren't alone.
Two other recruits stood nearby, both sizing up the room,and each other.
The first was a tall girl with long, snowy-white hair cascading down her back. Her skin was pale as porcelain, her eyes sharp and glacial blue. Her form-fitting white suit shimmered faintly, the Horizon logo stitched onto her chest, just above an unapologetically deep neckline.
Froststorm.
Superhero rating: 53.2.
Norway's highest-ranked young meta. Cold in more ways than one.
Tanaka caught her gaze for a second. Her expression didn't waver, icy, unreadable, confident.
Kurt nudged him. "Careful with that one," he whispered. "She freezes lakes for fun, and egos."
Tanaka smirked but kept his focus. This wasn't social hour. It was an audition.
The other recruit was Alfredo Cota, originally from Miami, though his roots traced back to Mexico. His superhero name?
Steel Alfredo.
The guy clearly wasn't shy about keeping his real name front and center. Broad-shouldered, built like a competition bodybuilder, Alfredo looked like he bench-pressed cars for fun. His ability? Turning his entire body into living metal.
His rating sat at 54.8, the highest of the three.
Right now, he was grinning at Tanaka with amusement, arms crossed over his massive chest.
"Something funny, Bigfoot?" Tanaka asked, brow raised.
Alfredo's grin widened, sharp with sarcasm. "You into samurai cosplay or something?"
Tanaka frowned. "What?"
Alfredo jabbed a finger toward the swords strapped across Tanaka's back. "Those blades. What are we doing here, anime auditions?"
Tanaka smirked, resting a hand casually on one of the hilts. "These? They're for cutting steel."
The grin faltered on Alfredo's face for half a second, but he recovered quickly, laughing under his breath.
"Guess we'll see how well they work when the tests start," Alfredo muttered, rolling his shoulders as his skin rippled, briefly flashing a metallic sheen.
Tanaka's eyes narrowed, his competitive streak flaring.
Kurt's right, he thought. First impressions matter.
And his? It wasn't going to be forgettable.
The door slid open.
A man walked in, flanked by Laura Bennet. Conversation stopped. Heads turned.
Red Ray.
A top-five Horizon Hero. Rating: 85. Dressed in a sleek crimson suit, the iconic visored laser glasses across his face shimmered like molten glass, a burning red pulse that seemed to cut the air itself.
The recruits straightened. Even the managers stood a little taller.
Laura smiled faintly at Tanaka and Kurt, then turned to the room.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is...."
"Red Ray," Froststorm interrupted, her icy composure cracking for the first time. "Sir, I'm Froststorm. It's an honor."
Red Ray gave her a glance. "I know."
"Sir, I'm your biggest fan," Alfredo blurted, stepping forward with an eager hand.
Red Ray stared at it like it was contagious. He didn't shake it.
Laura stepped in quickly. "Red Ray will be overseeing your test today. To determine whether Horizon made a smart investment... or just burned a pile of cash."
Alfredo grinned and cocked his head toward Tanaka. "Finally. Let's see what the Samurai over here's got."
Tanaka said nothing. Just stared ahead, calm, unreadable. Focused.
Laura turned back. "Any last words before we....."
"Let's not waste time," Red Ray cut in. "I've got better places to be."
Laura stepped aside.
Red Ray's visor flared, a sharp crimson slash lighting across his face like a drawn sword.
He scanned the recruits, Alfredo crackling with energy, Froststorm still starstruck, and The Blacksmith... silent.
Not fear. Not awe. Just a quiet tension.
Impatience.
"Now then," Red Ray said, voice like a trigger pull.
"Let's begin."