By Chuck Palahniuk
**Hero vs. Hero: The Battle of Kodo and Venric**
I really am just this guy, you see. Just a kid who never learned to let go of his adolescent fantasies. I wake up in the mornings and see myself in the mirror, and I don't just see scruffy hair and mismatched socks. I see Venric. The Defender. A wannabe superhero with a heart torn between dreams and reality. My powers buoyed by a Magic core that's still figuring out how not to fumble like a toddler on roller skates.
Kodo stands across from me, a bolt of elemental energy crackling between us like a poorly written rom-com script; it’s the kind of tension you can cut with a plastic knife. Kodo is everything I’m not: summer camp coolness, an air of confidence that smells of sandalwood and spray tan. Today, he draws on the fury of a storm, the kind that could make you forget that the universe doesn’t really care whether you win or lose.
The wind picks up around him, howling with a life of its own. In the shadows of an abandoned warehouse, Kodo is a tempest in a number-two pencil costume, the emblem of the BOO BOO’S DOO DOO’S emblazoned across his chest. It’s a title that sounds ridiculous, but right now it feels like a battle cry.
\"You ready to get schooled, kid?\" Kodo taunts, his voice smooth as silk, but the raw energy crackling through his fingertips suggests something more primal.
\"Yeah, well, my core is just warming up,\" I mutter, trying my best to muster a bravado that feels like wearing a costume two sizes too small.
Kodo launches forward, and before I can even blink, he punches the ground beneath me. The impact sends shockwaves rippling through the earth, and I stagger back, my feet slipping on the tangle of broken bricks and shattered dreams.
“Nothing personal,” he says, laughter in his voice. It’s the kind of laughter I’m supposed to find charming but instead feels like a jab in my gut. This is the super-hero equivalent of a high school quarterback giving the nerd a wedgie.
In response, I conjure a small flicker of magic. It’s shaky, uncertain, like a shy kid at a dance. I reach deep into my core, willing it to surge. “Elemental energy, huh? Well, try this!” I shoot a ball of light towards him.
Kodo dodges effortlessly, rolling his eyes. “That’s it? I’ve seen birthday candles with more power.”
Oh, the inevitable humiliation. My mind races with memories of my mother reminding me what happens when you don’t practice your powers enough. “You’re just a kid playing dress-up.”
He charges again, and it’s a blur of fists and raw energy. I throw up a shield, but it crumbles under the weight of his attack, disintegrating like my self-esteem.
“C’mon, Venric! You’re supposed to be a defender! Fight back!” His voice is the chorus of cruel reality, reminding me that each hit is a reminder of my indecision, of my struggle to embrace my identity in a world where superheroes are supposed to be invincible.
Breathe, Venric. I can feel the magic dancing just beneath my skin, but it’s like trying to catch smoke. I focus, summoning that core, but it spirals out of control, flickering like a dying bulb.
With a swift kick, Kodo sends me tumbling into a heap of debris. My head spins. The world around me blurs—the shadows of disapproval from my peers, the weight of expectations, and the specter of failure all collide in a cacophony of insecurity.
And then there’s Kodo in front of me, booming, “You gotta learn, kid! This is what it feels like! You want to be a hero, right? Then fight like one!”
But I can’t fight like him. He’s chaos incarnate, while I’m just… me.
Summoning the last vestiges of my strength, I rip a chunk of magic from my core and hurl it at him—a desperate attempt to salvage my pride. Kodo laughs again, a sound that echoes like a gunshot in my heart, and with a flick of his wrist, he vaporizes the attack, leaving me bare and vulnerable.
His final strike is a surge of elemental energy that collides with me, throwing me back against the wall. The world shifts, bends, and crumbles as I collapse, gasping for breath. There’s no dramatic music, no slow-motion climax—just the sound of my heart pounding and the weight of defeat pressing down.
Kodo stands over me. “Get up, Venric. You’re not done yet.” His voice has shifted from taunting to something resembling genuine concern.
But as I lay there, feeling like a forgotten toy at the bottom of a toy box, I realize that maybe this is where the real battle begins. Not against him, but within myself.
The BOO BOO’S DOO DOO’S celebrate Kodo’s victory with glee. They don’t know that it wasn’t just a contest of powers. It was a wake-up call, a reminder that sometimes the greatest battles aren’t waged against others, but against the monster of self-doubt lurking in our own hearts.
I sit up, the chill of defeat fading as I watch Kodo bask in the spotlight, the cheer of his league reverberating off the walls. That’s the thing about heroes. They learn. They grow. And sometimes, they even rise again from the ashes of failure.
And maybe, just maybe, I’ll be there to disrupt the narrative next time. After all, I really am just this guy, and this guy isn’t finished yet.