The Spectrumverse

Issue #4

Taking a right turn at the end of the Hall was the first thing he did. Passing the numerous displays of minor exhibits, only one thing drew his attention. Reaching the end of the corridor Billy took a left turn. Right before him was the entrance to his favourite exhibit.

Over the doorway read the words ‘United Protectors’. Painted on to the doors was the emblem of the United Nations. Stepping through the doorway, Billy’s heart and mind started to race. He stepped into a hexagon-shaped chamber. Directly opposite the door stood four mannequins in front of the United Nations flag, each one within their own spotlight. In each section of the chamber, the flags of certain nations were hung on the wall; each section was dedicated to one of the five heroes. Billy rushed toward the section he adored the most.

Darting across the chamber, the young man focused on one hero. Entering the section displaying the American flag, the section had many items and objects regarding this certain hero. Approaching the exhibit, he stopped and gazed fondly at the display. Before him stood a mannequin

Beneath the American flag was a large poster. It displayed a man wearing a costume influenced by the style of Art Deco. He wore a dark gold helmet that also masked his identity. His eyes and mouth were visible through it. His orange double-breasted jacket had a large M on the front within a silver circle. His pants were a dark grey and were tucked into his brown boats. On his belt were a series of pouches, each carrying items related to his vigilante activities. This masked figure was seen standing on a building top and in thick gold letters read ‘Metropolis Man’.

On the wall around this poster was a series of related items; framed newspapers bearing headlines related to the masked hero. Photographs of Metropolis man in certain locations, within and beyond the United States. Several comic books made in the late nineties were also on display in large display cases you could walk between. The comics were displayed in chronological order, and all had intriguing titles and front covers. Billy walked past the cases and noted one of the most iconic issues. This comic was kept separate from the others. It even had its own display case. He stopped to read it properly.

Within the case showed the aged yet immaculate comic. It showed Metropolis Man engaged in a struggle, fighting for his every life. His opponent. A tall, muscular, and terrifying looking villain. His costume was mostly a military uniform. His costume was in the style of an officer in the Soviet’s Red Army. His face covered in a red mask that had a red hammer and sickle across it, with two eye holes to see through. Above the image was the title of the comic ‘Adventures of Metropolis Man. Issue #6, Rise of the Crimson Commissar’

Billy looked at the comic book; he could barely wrench his eyes from the display case. Finally mustering all his willpower, Billy managed to pull himself away from the case. Engrossed in everything around him, it helped Billy forget it all. It brought joy and comfort; all his childhood memories were of this place. Yet as he gazed at his surroundings, reality started to creep back into his mind. The rejection letter broke his glee within seconds. After all these years, the heartbreaks, and stressful moments in his life. This place, it had always proved to be a haven. But then and there, with all on his mind, it didn’t seem as charming.

Looking around, Billy realized, he was alone in the exhibit. Such an opportunity was rare. After everything that had happened, Billy felt the need to do something. Something that, if caught, could land him in a lot of trouble. Yet with no visible staff members there it seemed the only chance he would get.

Quickly walking from the Metropolis Man section, through the Zissou section and just glancing at the display of Britannia. Billy approaches the display.

The costumes of the heroes were there, the only thing separating visitors was a red cordon. This red rope, dangling between waist-high metal poles, did little to deter him. Billy looked at the costume of Metropolis man. The displayed figure wore the costume, styled in the hero’s iconic pose. Both hands clench into fists, pressed to his waist, chest puffed up and looking forward. Just like the poster on his bedroom wall.

It was placed between the costumes of Britannia and Zissou. To the right stood a dummy dressed in Britannia’s costume. Her renowned metal bodice, large shield covered in the Union Jack. The Roman styled helmet provided protection. For her head and her identity. To the left, a mannequin wore the costume of hero once known as Zissou. A long grey trench coat with a French flag pin on the lapel. A simple half mask covered his eyes but left his mouth visible.

Billy didn’t care too much about them. All he was interested in was Metropolis man. Looking around once again, Billy wanted to ensure no one would see this. Leaning forwards, Billy reached his hand toward the sleeve of the costume.

“Mr. Kingston,” a voice called out.

Billy panicked. He lost his balance and fell backward, hitting his head on the floor. His vision blurred, even with his eyes wide open he could only guess what he was looking at. The outline of a stranger appeared, as his eyes readjusted, he realized who it was. Standing over him was an elderly man. Wearing his dark blue blazer and his identity card attached to his jacket pocket. His thick and scruffy moustache and weathered face were not the same features in the picture on his id badge. As he walked over Billy leaned up and tried to get up by himself. The guide simply watched as this started young man got back up to his feet. As he watched the guide approach, Billy looked down. Feeling guilty he had been caught.

 “Billy,” said the disapproving guide ‘What have I told you about doing that. You can’t touch the costumes, no one can. This is the third time I’ve caught you trying to do that.’

“I know Mr. Hoffmann,” Billy begrudgingly replied.

“If I catch you doing it again, you’ll be in serious trouble.”

“…I understand Mr. Hoffmann.”

Hoffman could see something was different. Billy didn’t seem his confident chipper self. He watched as Billy gazed down ashamed, he was caught. Hoffman realized something had happened, something that had profoundly broken his spirit.

“Something the matter Mr. Kingston?”

Billy decided it was best to share the news. Reaching into his shirt pocket, he took the folded letter and showed the guide, “I heard back from the museum management.”

Putting two and two together, Hoffman realized what had caused Billy’s depressed attitude. Mr. Hoffmann was speechless, the old guide had no idea what he could say. With only one option left he decided to share the truth with this young man. Patting Billy on the shoulder, Hoffman sighed.

“It’s nothing you did Billy,” Hoffmann shared honestly.

Billy looked right at Hoffman with curiosity “How do you know?”

Hoffman held his arms out wide and drew attention to the lack of visitors.

“Look around. Business isn’t what it used to be.”

“What do you mean? Don’t you still get school trips and tourists coming through?”

“We get one school trip every three-four months at best. Hardly any tourists pass through these days and the city cut its funding four months ago.”

“...what are you saying?”

The aged guide rubbed his cheek with just a hint of anxiety, “Management is considering moving the exhibits to the Smithsonian and closing this place down.”