Chapter Text
PART ONE
If anyone told me last semester that I'd be applying for a superhero internship, I would've laughed in their face. And then cried into my microwaved noodles because I couldn't even land the Taco Bell night shift.
But here I am. Laptop open. Application page glowing on my cracked screen like the gates of heaven—or maybe the pits of hell, depending on how this goes.
"Congratulations, Ascendants Inc. is looking for a Public Relations Intern!"
The world's greatest heroes. The icons. The gods among men. And women. And whatever the hell Mr. Enigma identifies as on Tuesdays. These people saved people. They fought off alien armadas, stopped volcanic eruptions, and inspired young kids to be heroes like them.
And me? I'm Tobias Williams. 'Toby' for short. Nineteen. Communications major. GPA clinging to life support because I spent midterms bingeing Love Island: Atlantis Edition when the homies ain't around.
This internship isn't just a job. It's career CPR. I land this, I'm set. Future Toby is strutting into PR agencies with this on his resume: "Managed crisis communications for Earth's Mightiest Heroes." I'll be untouchable. My mom might even stop comparing me to my cousin Brad who sells NFTs.
So why does the job description feel... off?
I scroll past the generic fluff:
Assist with public statements.
Draft press releases.
Manage sensitive information.
Okay, cool. Normal stuff. But then:
"Absolute discretion required."
"Must be comfortable with unconventional workplace culture."
"Crisis response skills essential. Bring ice packs."
...Ice packs?
Before I can overthink it, my phone buzzes. Group chat. Dorm Goblins:
Jaden: Yo Maguire, you applying for that hero gig?
Me: How did you even—
Mike: It's trending on TwitVid. 200k applicants in 3 hours.
Jaden: Bro if you get this, you're basically in the MCU. Invite me to the premiere.
Me: It's not Marvel.
Jaden: Same difference. Do they do meet-and-greets? Because Solaris could ruin my life and I'd thank her.
I roll my eyes so hard I nearly sprain something. Of course Jaden would simp for Solaris. Everyone does. She's like if a yoga goddess and an Instagram thirst trap had a baby made of sunlight.
I glance back at the screen. My fingers hover over the keyboard. I can already hear my mom's voice: "Finally, Tobias! A real job that doesn't involve slinging burgers!"
I click Apply Now.
The form loads, and suddenly, I'm staring at the weirdest set of questions I've ever seen:
Are you comfortable with nudity in professional environments?
How fast can you draft a press release while someone is screaming?
Would you consider yourself discreet, loyal, and resistant to thirst traps?
Excuse me, what?
I actually laugh out loud. This has to be some HR joke, right? Like an Easter egg for die-hard fans.
I tick "10" for the first one because hey, I showered in a communal dorm and a high-school for a year. Then, "Very fast" for the screaming thing—college prepared me for that.
The last one, though... Resistant to thirst traps. I hesitate. Think of Ms Void's Vogue cover shoot. Think of All-Star's Olympics charity ad where he carried an orphan and a puppy at the same time. My brain short-circuits.
I check "Yes." Because I'm a liar and an optimist.
Before I can chicken out, I slam Submit.
Ding. Thank you for applying to Ascendants Inc. If selected, you will be contacted for an in-person interview.
My heart thuds. This is it. This could be my shot at something bigger than cafeteria pizza and overdue tuition.
I close the laptop, lean back, and stare at the ceiling. What's the worst that could happen?