—Jon’s floor gave out under him.
And he screamed. And he fell.
And he did not fall to the next floor of his apartment. That would’ve made sense, you see, and when you make stupid wishes like “I wish for something interesting,” you don’t get wishes that make sense.
You get something interesting.
Wind. Jon got that first—wind beating into him. Then, blinding light. Then, sound. The crash and tumble of his room falling with him.
Jon forced his eyes open. Through the lamps, sheets and comic books whirling around him, he saw… Oh hell.
Upside down. Massive. Rushing at him at breakneck speed. A city too clean and solarpunk to be real. Imagine silvery buildings peppered with explosions of flowers and foliage. Glass-domed blimps and painted air balloons weightless in the sky below. Stony walkways linking city-block-sized terraces that rose high above the ground, because the ground was reserved for canals straight out of Venice; all clear water and pretty boats.
Jon was still falling. He gripped the stone. But his thoughts were too fast, too frantic, to spit out a wish.
Colors in the distance. Some whizzed around buildings like hummingbirds, others advanced slowly, jumping from terrace to terrace. Sounds followed—shouts, explosions… Insults? Jon squinted through the wind (as difficult as you might expect) and focused. Realization slapped him in the face. He would've laughed if he weren't about to die.
This city had super heroes. Actual, brightly costumed, dumbass super heroes.
It was then when he finally registered the other, other, other thing. The rest of his belongings had long since fallen away, but his comic books (were they his? He didn’t recognize them) kept near. And, somehow, they all stayed shut, covers facing him, orbiting in a slow hover.
Maiden Heaven. Bold, blocky lettering. The cover showed an angelic war goddess—white wings, golden hair, heavy armor, and… Jesus. He'd never seen boobs that big in his life.
Tropical Storm. This font was thick and playful. The character was a tan woman in loose, floral fabrics, every bit as shapely and impossible as the previous character.
Foxfire. Fine and dark, like calligraphy. The character, a stunning Japanese woman with red hair, with the distinct addition of two fox ears and nine fluffy tails. Pointedly, obviously, she was also pornstar-shaped.
There were six more floating around Jon.
…And, horrifyingly, he’d have to pick one before he hit the ground.
