In a Time of No Heroes

I came of age in a time of no heroes. Walls were crumbling. Rain traveled down cracks in the buildings, dripping on the floor. The monsters were close. I could almost smell them. To my left was my brother, my twin. His right hand held mine and he squeezed my fingers tightly as one of the five moved away from the group. The counters on our faces glowed slightly and numbers rose as it walked towards us. We had no idea which of the five it was. Unfortunately, it didn't matter. They were all stronger than us.

We could hear the monster moving towards us now. It moved in time with the water drops falling from the ceiling. I shivered a little as a drop of water fell onto my head of purple hair and dripped down my spine before being soaked up by the material of my black tank top. It was cold and we had no idea where we were except that it was a destroyed city, probably one of the ones that never got rebuilt after the artificial humans attacked. The monsters had flushed us out of her hiding place that we know so well and then destroyed the underground village we were using as a home.

Our friends, safety, and comfort gone in a flash. No one could stand up to those freaks. All Earth's heroes were gone a long time ago. Oddly enough, the village elder was telling us a story of the last of earth's heroes when the monsters found my brother and I. He told us of the legendary man who took down a large army when he was a boy and who moved on to other great things. He told us of how the man fought rouges, thieves, and monsters and made allies of them. He told us how he fought against aliens and won. Finally, the elder told us of how the man disappeared when the world needed him most. When the artificial humans appeared. We thought the stories were done but then the elder spoke of two young men who fought the artificial humans. One died and the other survived to keep fighting. The elder stared at my brother and me oddly as he spoke of the young man who survived and eventually defeated the artificial humans.

"He was young," the elder said. "But he was strong."

But he wasn't enough to fight the monsters and now we were left without a hero. When the elder finished a debate had broken out. Some said the unknown man should have waited, trained, and took on disciples to carry the fight when he died. Others said he should have launched a kamikaze attack and took out all the freaks. No one suggested that the man should have gone into hiding. No one suggested that he had a right to live. Everyone took it for granted it was his duty to protect the world even though he was young according to the elder. For all we know, he could have been our age or he could have been younger. It didn't matter to these people. To them, he was of age even if he was five because he could fight.

My brother and I were not of age by your historical standards. As best as we could guess we were seven, eight, maybe nine if we lucky, but those monsters had forced us to grow, to hide, to plot, and maybe even die before out time. In a way, we were of age. After all, we were what they hunted and nowhere was safe for us. Not until we died or a hero appeared and took down those freaks and it didn't seem like a hero was going to appear very soon.

A/n: Blame my muse. He convinced my other three muses to work on something other than FCPD. Also the writing group I am a part of has started up so expect little oneshots to pop up again as longer chapters get started. Anyways, this prompt was "I came of age in a time of no heroes" and was required to be the first line. Since I'm still kicking around the idea of writing my own future kid comes to the past story, I figured I test the waters. Let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!

-D101

Disclaimer: Dragon Ball Z is not owed by me.