Hearts and Heroics
Daemon and Polymath are two real-world wannabe superheroes—but they could be something more. Maybe Daemon’s taking the whole superhero thing a little too seriously?
This story was Alex’s entry for Round 3 of the NYC Midnight Short Story Challenge 2025. This round’s prompts for his group were…
Genre: romantic comedy
Subject: tech-savvy
Character: an acrobat
“Come on,” Polymath calls to me from across the alley. “Just jump across so we can get to the drop point before the dealers do.”
I grimace and adjust my indigo cowl, peeking over the ledge. It’s only a four-story drop, but it seems to stretch into eternity. Taking a step back, I say, “Let’s just stick to ground-level patrol today.”
Polymath laughs and shakes her head. “Daemon, get real. Rooftop running is superhero standard in the comics.”
Ah, truth. Second only to justice, it laces her words. But then I remember when I was six, and my neighbor Jimmy attempted to test his glider-cape by jumping off his roof and had to spend two weeks in the hospital, after which his family moved away to keep him from any more “bad influences.”
I can’t let something like that happen. My city needs me.
Polymath can see my gears turning. She doesn’t look annoyed—from what I can tell, at least. The bottom half of her face is obscured to protect her identity, and she wears a hood over her head. But I do think I see a bit of disappointment in those green eyes of hers, and it sets off a twinge in my heart. Disappointing her is like disappointing Alfred Pennyworth—literally the worst thing. The only difference is that I’ve never daydreamed about sweeping Alfred up in my arms and—
No, I must put aside those kinds of thoughts. The mission comes first.
I tense my jaw and shake my head before moving toward the fire escape. Polymath sighs and heads for the one on her side. “Superheroes don’t think so much. They act,” she says with a wistful shrug.
The words hit harder than Doomsday hit Superman in Volume 2, Issue 75. We both know she’s not just talking about rooftop running. There’s something between us, no doubt.
But it’s already a miracle that two real-world superheroes could stumble across each other like we had. We’d be tempting fate to expect a second miracle would allow inter-superhero relationships to work.
Besides, she’s a tech-based hero—gadgets, tools she built into her vambraces, that kind of thing—and I’m an acrobatic street-brawler. If we got together, it’d only be a matter of time until she’s relegated to the “Watchtower” role for her own protection from any archenemies I’m bound to make. I respect her too much to reduce her to such a cliché.
But then she hits me in an altogether different way as she joins me on the asphalt. “By the way, I like the new cowl. It’s very Zdarsky-era Daredevil.”
I practically fly out of my boots.
***
Ten minutes later, I’m crouched behind a stack of old tires, and Polymath is hiding behind a dumpster. My eyes keep wandering to her, threatening to divert my thoughts from my mission once again. Just the two of us, hunched amid the scent of worn rubber and urine… it’s undeniably romantic. I wonder if Polymath’s heart is pounding as hard as mine.
“Hey, Polymath,” I stage-whisper as instinct seizes the wheel. “I want to tell you—”
The sound of gruff voices fills the alleyway. My words jump back down my throat, and I try not to choke on them. What was I thinking? This is a crucial moment. If I’d confessed my feelings there, we might have been too distracted to realize the dealers had arrived. We could have missed our shot—or worse, been discovered.
This is why relationships between superheroes never work out. Somebody could get hurt. Just look at Daredevil and Elektra. Or Batman and Catwoman. Or Hawkeye and Mockingbird.
The drug dealers’ voices get closer. “Why’d Hank hide the stash in an alley, anyway?”
“Improvising, I guess. Got chased by a couple weirdos with a cattle-prod, so he chucked the bag under a dumpster.”
“Jesus. This city.”
Ah-ha! The perfect cue to make a dramatic entrance from the shadows, striking fear into the criminal scum!
“Talking about me?” I call from the shadows in a voice like two boulders wrestling. A couple backflips later, I land atop the dumpster. Slowly, I lift my eyes to take in my prey. The two men disguise their terror as confusion, but I know what dwells within the hearts of man. “Drugs. Why’s it always drugs with these criminal-types, Polymath?”
“I dunno, Daemon,” she jeers, stepping coolly into view beside me with her illegally supercharged cattle-prod slung across her shoulder. “But if they won’t kick the habit, we’ll gladly do it for them.”
The two drug-dealers gape at us, then at each other, then back at us. “What?”
“We’re going to take your drugs and burn ‘em!” Polymath declares.
“You’re gonna burn our drugs?”
“To teach you a lesson,” I chime in. “And so it won’t end up in the hands of this city’s innocent youth.”
They look at each other again. “Okay, what the fuck is happening here?”
“Justice!” I roar, and the battle is on.
While Polymath charges one goon with her zapper, I leap toward the other. A backflip, then a front flip, to show him how outmatched he is.
“You don’t want this fight,” I rumble. “Surrender, and—”
He punches me in the face, and I fall over.
“So, you’ve had training,” I say as I stand, wiping my eyes. Through me, this city weeps for justice. It happens every time I get punched in the face. “A worthy opponent.”
“Seriously, what the fuck are you talking about?”
I launch into a series of backward handsprings to gain distance, then run up the wall and flip off it like the Flying Graysons themselves. While he’s awed by my moves, I kick him in the leg. The goon drops with a howl of pain, clutching his shin.
He’s skilled, but I have two years of gymnastics classes at the community center under my belt. This was over before it even began.
“Aw, c’mon,” his buddy shouts from the ground, struggling under Polymath’s boot, “the poor guy’s got shin splints! Jesus!” She silences him with a loud zap from her cattle prod, and he slumps.
I grab the dealers’ bag and toss it into a nearby trash can. While I empty a small bottle of kerosine into the can, I think of how quickly Polymath took care of her thug.
Already, she’s a better superhero than I am. When we’re just working together, seeking justice against the criminal scum, I don’t mind that. Justice is justice. But would that change if romance gets involved? Would I grow to resent her success? Would I hold her back?
“Shit, they’re really gonna do it!” It’s the criminals. They’re stumbling to their feet, reaching for something in their belts.
Guns. Our kryptonite.
Polymath and I run as fast as we can toward the other side of the alley. Before we take off, she tosses the lit match into the trash can, and it immediately crackles and blazes.
“Goddammit, that was like two hundred bucks!”
We turn this way and that, not chancing to look behind us. I don’t even bother to parkour over anything. Soon we’re scrambling up a fire escape, panting and sweating. At the rooftop, I ease my pace.
“No time!” Polymath shouts, not breaking her stride. She takes a flying leap off the ledge, over the alley, and onto the next rooftop over, stumbling over. “Now come on! Your turn!”
I ready my stance, and—wait, are they even still following us? I turn to look back at the fire escape we just came up. It’s possible we could’ve lost them already. Maybe they stayed behind to try to salvage whatever drugs they can. Greed is just as powerful a motivator as revenge. Before doing anything risky, we should—
“Daemon!” she barks with a sternness I haven’t heard before; it snaps me back into myself. “You’re a freaking superhero! Stop thinking so damn much and just do it!”
Polymath’s green eyes bore into mine, beautiful and so sure of themselves—no, sure of me. Nobody looks at me the way she does.
For her, I take a deep breath and turn off my mind.
It turns back on, and I’m on the other building. Rather, my arms and shoulders are on the other building while my legs dangle over the alley below. Polymath is tugging on my shoulders to help pull me up. My heart is doing a drumroll, and it feels incredible. She makes me feel incredible.
“You are the single coolest person I’ve ever met, and I want to be with you, no matter what rooftop you jump to next.” The words fly without breath or thought. My wild-eyed smile turns sheepish as I realize this could’ve waited until I’d climbed up, so I add, “And I’m sorry I didn’t quite make it all the way.”
Polymath stares at me, then pulls her mask down so I can see her smile. “Don’t be. I’m just glad you finally took the leap.”