I was born from obsession. From a wish.
My name is nothing more than a remembrance that I am a step on a stairway to her mirror, to perfection on the eyes of that lonely soul. I am Moonfire, Fir3-120. I did not existed in this world when the action which would lead to the chain of events of my creation took its place. Well perhaps, just maybe I did, in the mind of my creator, my supposed god, there in some thought in the foremost goal of his life, I dwelled waiting for his hands to act. Today, after years of controversy, I am useful. For years the Savernyan officials and bureaucrats watched my existence. They wanted to make sure I was worth their investment, my creator, Dr.xxxxxx, was congratulated and celebrated after I, for the first time learnt how to flight, how to endure the Savernyan unforgiving winter with nothing more than light set of cloth, how I made beams of energy float in the air as ephemeral jewel of greenish hues. I was taught to fight, survive, to not be weak. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, which became months and which later evolved into years I spent refining my abilities. Today, I am again watched, but not as before, not a weapon, as a heroine, the savior of lives in a city I have never seen…
A lilac beam of light flew up into the night sky. Coming from afar, the old continent, it moved at a rapid speed toward the New World, America.
“We have our full faith in your project Doctor. We invested heavily on you, we know you can deliver.”An aged official that transpired an aura of experience and a smell of Tobacco stated in conference room somewhere in the capital of Savernya.
The room contained more than anything, officials from most branches of the Savernyan Armed Forces. On the left side a table, uniformed and square-shouldered military officials were seated, reviewing papers on the new acquisitions of the State. On the other scientists and economist made their stand to maintain the funds for their projects. In the head of the table the aged official sat.
“God may smite me, if I don’t deliver!” A black-haired scientist, wearing the proper attire of his occupation laughed. “Be ready to amaze gentlemen. Oh dear, unlike these amateurs' attempts…”The man said while looking at the other scientists with an expression of arrogance.
“…my work is well-developed and functional, perhaps, the state will consider further studies and development.” The man continued walking toward the satellite map.
The situation was not only a demonstration. A Savernyan satellite had been hit by a meteor, the spacecraft was to crash unto the earth, unto America, unto the unsuspicious and sleeping Jump City, home of the Titans.