The Last Post
Fiction by Hebron Abraha
Le Stryge by Joseph Pennell, Courtesy National Gallery of Art, Washington
The notification pierced the night like a digital bullet: “#LastHeroStanding **trending** worldwide.” Sarah Wu's augmented contact lenses flashed the alert in blazing red as she finished her patrol, her boots leaving scorch marks on the rain-slicked rooftop. Her heart sank with the weight of certainty. Another hero had fallen.
Being a superhero used to mean something different. It meant soaring through lightning storms with Thunder Queen, deflecting Mechazoid's death rays alongside Chrome Crusader, orchestrating citywide evacuations when Doctor Entropy unleashed his chaos engines. Now? Now it meant watching your Twitter feed become an obituary, counting down the heroes like falling stars, each disappearance marked by a final viral post and a tsunami of conspiracy theories.
Sarah—–-known to the world as Circuit, the electrokinetic sentinel of New Metro—–-crouched on her favourite perch: an art deco gargoyle with copper wings that amplified her powers. Her suit, a marvel of nano-engineered fibre optics and quantum conductors, pulsed with ribbons of blue electricity that matched her racing heartbeat. Through her augmented reality display, she watched the latest tragedy unfold.
The video showed Stellar, the cosmic defender, with his usual golden aura flickering like bad WiFi. His chiseled features, once radiant with stellar energy, now looked gaunt and shadowed. “I can feel it happening,” his voice cracked, stardust tears floating around his face. “The connection to the cosmic force... it's like someone's unplugging me from the universe itself. I don't know who's next, but whoever's doing this... they're not just taking our powers. They're taking our purpose. Our very essence—” The video cut to static as his light finally went out.
Sarah clenched her fist, watching azure sparks dance between her fingers like miniature lightning bolts. She'd already lost half her team: Cybermancer, whose digital spells once protected the city's infrastructure; Terra Force, who could command entire tectonic plates but couldn't stop himself from being erased; and now Stellar, whose light had guided ships and satellites safely for decades. Each disappearance followed the same pattern—–-a surge in their powers that turned their abilities against them, then nothing. Just empty suits, silent comms, and millions of likes on their final posts.
The comments under Stellar's last broadcast scrolled endlessly in her AR display:
“Who's targeting our heroes? This isn't random!”
“@Circuit's one of the last ones left! Protect her at all costs! 🙏⚡”
“Is this the end of the superhero age? First Thunder Queen, now Stellar…”
“Anyone else notice they're taking down heroes in order of power level? #ConspiracyTheory”
“@Circuit if you're reading this, DON'T POST ANYTHING! Every hero who made a farewell post disappeared within 24 hours!”
Sarah switched off the feed with a thought-command, her neural implants responding instantly. The city below her stretched out like a circuit board, every light and digital signal visible to her enhanced senses. Whatever force was hunting heroes, it wasn't content with just taking their powers —–- it wanted to turn their disappearances into a social media spectacle, a viral countdown to humanity's vulnerability.
Her phone buzzed with a distinctive pattern—–-Danny. Her brother was the only person who knew both sides of her life: the MIT dropout who accidentally merged with a quantum electrical experiment, and the hero who could control every electronic device in New Metro. His message chilled her: “Sis, you're trending too. They think you're next. Your power signature's starting to fluctuate like Stellar's did. GET OUT OF THE CITY!”
Sarah took a deep breath, watching the city lights below pulse like a digital heartbeat. She could feel them all—–-every phone, every computer, every smart device in New Metro singing to her through her electrokinetic powers. The city was her nervous system, and something in it was hunting her kind. If she was going to be next, she'd use every tool at her disposal to expose the truth.
She opened her hero account, verified with quantum encryption, and started typing: “To whoever's watching: You want a show? Let's give them one. I can feel you trying to hack my powers. But here's the thing about electricity—–-it can be a signal or a weapon. Meet me at Central Square. No masks, no hiding. Just you, me, and every camera in the city as witnesses. Let's see who's really got the power to go viral.”
Send.
The response was immediate. #CircuitShowdown shot to number one trending worldwide within minutes. Every news helicopter in the city turned toward Central Square, their signals humming in her consciousness. Thousands of phones pointed skyward, their cameras becoming her eyes, their networks becoming her weapons.
Sarah stood on the edge of her gargoyle, electricity now crackling around her suit in violent arcs. The copper wings behind her glowed white-hot, transforming the stone sentinel into a makeshift Tesla coil. She wasn't just fighting for her powers anymore—–-she was fighting for every hero who'd been silenced, every post that had become a digital epitaph.
As she launched herself into the night sky, streams of electricity trailing behind her like digital contrails, Sarah smiled grimly. They wanted trending content? She'd give them a finale they'd never forget. Because she had one advantage the others didn't—–-she could feel the pattern now, in the city's electronic pulse. Someone wasn't just taking the heroes' powers. They were collecting them.
The real question wasn't whether she'd survive the night. The question was: would she finally catch this power-stealing force on camera, or would she become just another viral farewell post in everyone's feed?
Only one way to find out. Time to go live.
And this time, the whole world would be her witness.
Hebron Abraha is a St. Patrick's graduating creative writing student exploring the intersection of speculative fiction and digital storytelling. His latest work, “The Last Post,” dives into a compelling mythology in the age of social media and surveillance. With a flair for cinematic world‑building and emotionally charged conflict, Hebron liked to bring futuristic urban landscapes to life. Inherently drawing imaginative and logical readers into high‑stakes confrontations alike.