NeoCallan, a city where everyone can be themselves because everyone is the same person. They all spend all their time working. They even dress in the same white suit with navy pinstripes everyday.
With most of the city’s labor being performed by BusyBots, it often feels like there’s no work to do. That’s where the NeoCallanian spirit thrives. When the top priorities are staying busy and keeping clean, you find stuff to put elbow grease in. The yard can always be mowed or landscaped again, the car can always be washed or waxed again, the streets can always be swept again. Things can always be cleaner. Smoother. Shinier. Sparklyer.
There is one NeoCallanian who doesn’t spend all day working though. Alissa is a full-time student at Real University where she studies history. Her white and gold outfits match her white teeth and golden curly hair. She spends all her time consuming information written and produced by the founder and forefather of NeoCallan, Mr. Real. She takes a test everyday to ensure she knows exactly how NeoCallan and the rest of the world came to be. Almost as if she were being brainwashed.
So much testing requires a lot of studying, which requires a lot of coffee. For that, there’s no better place to go in NeoCallan than Real Coffee. She’s spent so much time there she’s developed a bond with the manager, the only human working there, Wrigley Mills.
“The usual, Alissa?” Ms. Mills asks her regular as she’s already preparing her white chocolate mocha.
Before Alissa can even confirm, Ms. Mills sets her coffee down on a coaster in front of her. The coaster has an image of NeoCallan’s skyline with text underneath.
“‘NeoCallan: A Real City,’” Alissa reads the coaster aloud as she lifts the drink to take a sip. “In case you were wondering, Ms. Mills, NeoCallan is indeed a real city.”
Ms. Mills laughs as she wipes her spotless counter. “You’d know. You should know everything about this city with how much you study it.”
Alissa chuckles and sets the cup down. She inadvertently covers “Neo” on the coaster.
“What I don’t know is what makes NeoCallan ‘neo,’” she says as she stares at the text.
She can’t help but be bothered by this discovery of ignorance. Ms. Mills was right when she said Alissa should know everything there is to know about the city. So why doesn’t she know the origin of the name? She lifts the coaster up, covering “Neo” with her thumb. She turns to show Ms. Mills.
“Callan: A Real City.”
Suddenly, the two women lock eyes like two best friends who just heard something that reminded them of an inside joke. The Queen of Kings. Grounds Zero. The Chessperados. Mr. Real. Alpha Girl. They drown in the flooding memories like a terrorist being waterboarded.
“Al-” Wrigley begins to say. “Alpha Girl.”
“Wrigley, where are we?”
They look around disturbed now that they’re aware of their surroundings. BusyBots are everywhere, and every human is dressed like Mr. Real. They nervously look at each other. The nervous look on Alissa’s face quickly becomes a determined face on Alpha Girl. The look in her eyes before they begin to glow in the color of a supernova as her powers activate. At least, that’s what used to happen.
This time, Alissa’s eyes don’t glow. She doesn’t activate any powers. She’s no longer Alpha Girl. She turns away from Wrigley to hide her shame.
“I’m sorry,” she says to all of Callan but only loud enough for Wrigley to hear. “I can’t save us.”
Frozen in shock, Wrigley stares at the city in front of her. She takes in just how dire the situation is. Mr. Real has the entire city under his control.
“It’s all my fault,” she admits.
Alissa quickly shifts her head to meet Wrigley’s eyes, which are pouring out tears. Before Alissa can ask her how it’s all her fault, she remembers the petition Wrigley signed, along with many other Callanians, to essentially outlaw Alpha Girl.
“I was desperate,” Wrigley explains herself to all of Callan but only loud enough for Alissa to hear. “Mr. Real offered to help me if I did what he wanted. It was the worst mistake I ever made.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. You freed me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Callan, but realizing the city didn’t have to rely on me was relieving.”
Wrigley nods as she processes Alissa’s words. “How are we going to save everyone from Mr. Real without Alpha Girl though?”
Alissa looks at the coaster from the coffee shop, then gives it to Wrigley. “We need to make Callanians remember who they really are…
“Starting with the Chief of Police.”
With that, the duo set out to find Callan Police Chief Norman Ryder.
After scouring the city, they heard a familiar voice enthusiastically touting a familiar phrase.
“YOLO!” Ryder declared to the customer he was trying to sell a used car to. “You only live once. What better way to spend that life than riding in a brand new used SUV?”
Ryder’s beefy frame never fit quite right in his police uniform, but it looked more natural than it did in a car salesman uniform. It was tough to watch this leader of men and lethal protector in such an inconsequential role.
“Hey Chief!” Wrigley called out.
Ryder looked around confused until he realized his customer had walked away unconvinced to buy the SUV, making him the only one standing there. “Um… hello ladies. Can I interest you in a brand new used SUV?”
“We’re not looking to buy a car,” Alissa says with a smirk. “We’re looking to buy some woke.”
“Woke?” Ryder is stumped as he tries to remember where he’s heard that term. “I don’t… I don’t know… Woke…
“YOLO!” he declares as he realizes who he is. “Where the hell am I?!”
The women bring him up to speed, but before they continue on their journey to find more lost Callanians, Chief confronts Wrigley.
“You just had to sign-”
“Don’t, Chief,” Alissa demands. “Everyone deserves a second chance.”
Continuing their quest, the trio finds Callan Mayor Sehren Chase managing Real Bank in downtown NeoCallan. She greets them at the bank’s entrance.
“Welcome to Real Bank. What brings you in today?”
Alissa and Wrigley look at each other for help figuring out what to say.
“There’s something wrong with my debit card,” Chief Ryder blurts out. “Looks like someone got erronium on it.”
Serhen reaches out to examine the card but looks up at Ryder to examine him instead.
“Erronium…” she says as she slowly tilts her head. “That’s impossible. Emperror is in rehabilitation. We stopped him. Alpha Girl stopped him… Alpha Girl.”
Suddenly her eyes meet Alissa’s. Even without glowing hair or eyes, Mayor Chase recognized the look of hope and determination.
“Mayor Chase,” Alissa says to her long-time associate. “We have to save the city again.”
Mayor Chase gives Callan’s hero the kind of nod you give someone you’re about to go to godforsaken war with. She looks at Wrigley and Chief Ryder and gives them the same nod.
“If we’re gonna teach Mr. Real a lesson, we’re gonna need Callan’s greatest teacher,” Mayor Chase says as she stares off toward a window with sunlight beaming through.
They set off to find Ms. Vaughan.
After a conveniently quick journey, the group stumbled upon the teacher they were looking for at Real Skilled Nursing Facility. She was marketing needy senior citizens to the facility. They were very interested in Ms. Vaughan’s patients. But she wasn’t going to sell them for anything less than top dollar. She was the best damn needy-senior-citizen marketer there ever was.
Alissa looks around the skilled nursing facility as she approaches Ms. Vaughan.
“This place could never be a school,” Alissa nonchalantly declares.
“Excuse me?” Ms. Vaughan responds triggered for some reason. “Why would you say such a thing?”
“Not enough windows,” Mayor Chase says with the smirk of a mentee who just became a mentor.
Ms. Vaughan is stumped. She looks around.
“Damn right, not enough windows,” she declares. “Transparency is an essential aspect of both education and community.”
“Hell yeah!” Chief Ryder chants in a sudden uncontrollable urge to get hyped. The women all glare at him before rolling their eyes in unison.
“If we’re gonna save the children of Callan,” Ms. Vaughan begins. “We’re gonna need one of the most brilliant young minds in the city.”
The band of Callanian icons steps over to the next frame, where Johnny Gordon is selling fancy furniture at Real Home Decor.
“I like this checkered one,” he says to a couple made up of a half-dead man with a toupee and a botoxed woman a quarter of his age. “Something about that black and white pattern.”
“Checkered one?” Wrigley calls out as she enters the area. “How about this chessed one?”
Behind Wrigley the gang has managed to put together a makeshift chess board and pieces out of the furniture in the store. Johnny’s eyes light up when he sees it.
“That’s the King’s Gambit,” Johnny announces to the store’s customers, who barely hear them because they’re either deaf or hypnotized by their phone.
The Callanians group-hug around Johnny and lift him up and sing “For He’s A Jolly Good Fellow.”
“Now then,” Johnny says as he abruptly gets serious. “Where’s O’Reilly?”
“I think I know,” Ms. Vaughan says with shameful confidence.
Suddenly the ensemble of Callanians is staring up at the nicest hotel in NeoCallan, Hotel Real. When they walk inside, Billy O’Reilly, the owner of the most important business establishment in Callan, is walking around like an ape with his tail cut off with a name tag that says “Manager.”
“What do you have on tap?” Johnny asks him even though he definitely doesn’t look old enough to ask such a thing.
O’Reilly looks at the kid like he just asked him where the nuclear codes are hidden. After pondering the question for a moment, he shakes his head and straightens his back before answering.
“This is a hotel, son, not a bar.”
The team looks on in shocked defeat at the man they know as a quiet but wacky sports bar owner parade around like a busy hotel manager.
“Wait here,” Ms. Vaughan says as she marches toward O’Reilly. She grabs his wrist and whirls him around to face her and hold her gaze long enough for him to recognize her. Then she kisses him.
“Well look who’s finally come around,” he says to the woman he’s been hitting on for years. Ms. Vaughan laughs and turns around to see the Callanian’s looks of admiration, pride and disgust.
“Alpha Girl, I’m sorry about everything,” O’Reilly says to Alissa. “Mr. Real is in the penthouse.”
“I’m not Alpha Girl,” she corrects her old friend. “Callan doesn’t need her. He needs all of you.”
DING
The Elevator opens. Mr. Real emerges in front of a flock of enhanced Queens of Kings who begin to multiply like BusyBots.
“If it isn’t the Callanian Crusaders,” the owner of the city addresses his foes. He stares at Alissa with intrigue.
“Alissa, huh? You know better than anyone there’s no way any of you can stop me. The city is mine. I won.”
Alissa glares at her nemesis like a tiger watching a deer. Before she has a chance to pounce, O’Reilly steps in front of Mr. Real.
“NeoCallan might be yours, Real,” he says as he places his name tag in his former employer’s hand. “But Callan’s ours.”
WHAM
He punches him right in his stone-like jaw. Mr. Real chuckles as he realizes the liquid he touched on his lip is blood.
“Kill all of them,” Mr. Real says to his army of death robots.
The band of ordinary human Callanians is no match for the super-powered evil droids. They’re quickly pinned and staring down the Queens’ blades. As they all struggle to free themselves from their cold fate, Alissa closes her eyes and relaxes.
“Remember when you tazed Hypernator and woke up the city?” Alissa calls out to Chief Ryder.
“I…” Chief thinks what could be his last thoughts before he’s decapitated. “I remember!”
With that, Chief closes his eyes and a beam of spiritual energy is shot from his head to Alissa’s, blasting through a few robots on the way.
“What about when you kicked the erronium laser out of Emperror’s hand to save someone who didn’t even want to be saved?” Alissa asks Mayor Chase.
“Callan PD couldn’t take down the Trouble Shooters, but you could, Mayor Chase,” Chief echoes Alissa’s sentiment about the mayor’s heroics.
Spiritual energy emerges from Mayor Chase’s head and joins the connection between Alissa and Ryder, emitting radiation that begins to melt the robots.
Mr. Real fumes with disappointment as he looks on.
“Finish them!”
“What about when you checkmated the Chessperados, Johnny? What about all the children you protected from darkness, Ms. Vaughan? What about all the people who look up to you, O’Reilly?”
The spiritual energy radiating from all their heads has melted all but one Queen of Kings. She’s standing over Wrigley ready to introduce her to her maker.
“And Wrigley,” Alissa says calmly. “What about all the Callanians who couldn’t make it through life without what you offered them everyday?”
The energy from Wrigley’s head melts the tip of the Queen’s blade before it blasts right through it and destroys the last robot standing. The Callanians stand up, each with their own aura of energy floating around them like they’re about to go Super Saiyan. They face Mr. Real.
“Is that all you’ve got?”
Mr. Real’s eyes begin to glow as his muscles grow so fast that he looks like a time-lapsed video showing the effects of steroids. His white suit with navy pinstripes tears open, revealing a white super suit and cape with navy pinstripes.
“Get real,” he says just before darting toward the heroes at the speed of light and using the force from his speed to send them flying. When they try to get up, he blasts white and navy lightning at them and holds their bodies with the electricity. He grins while they writhe in pain. He directs his focus to Alissa.
“After all the times you had to save Callan, you never stopped to think maybe it wouldn’t need to be saved if you’d just let it be what it’s supposed to be?” he asks her rhetorically. “This, Alissa, is what it looks like to use power for good. The city has thrived since I took over. And now the people get to see you for what you are. Pathetic.”
“No.”
O’Reilly begins to flex his brain as he tries to strengthen the connection between him and Alissa.
“You were right, Alissa. Callan doesn’t need Alpha Girl. Clearly he doesn’t need to be under the influence of a super-powered being. It wasn’t your powers that made you the city’s hero though. You believed in Callan for what it was and saw what it could be. So he doesn’t need Alpha Girl. He needs Alissa.”
Suddenly, Alissa opens her eyes to reveal they’re glowing along with her hair. O’Reilly’s eyes and hair are glowing as well. So are the rest of the group’s. In unison, they throw their arms out and deflect Mr. Real’s electricity, pushing the villain back. He blasts more lightning at them, but they all hold out their hand to block it and fire it right back at him. His own lightning blasts him and forces him to the ground. From the floor, he looks up at the group of Callanians holding hands to form a circle as they float in the air. They spin in the circle faster and faster until they become one funnel. As the funnel slows down, a single body emerges. The body of a man made entirely of colorful light.
“Impossible,” Mr. Real quietly utters to himself as he stares at the figure before firing lightning at it.
The figure catches the lightning and grabs hold of it as if it’s a rope, yanks it toward him and grabs the other side. He holds it for a moment and changes its material before folding and manipulating it into a different shape. When he’s done, he holds out a long and skinny balloon.
“I’m Chimera,” the light-man says to Mr. Real. “I turned your lightning into a balloon animal,”
“It’s just a balloon,” Mr. Real replies confused. “What kind of animal is it?”
“Just because I have the power to turn your lightning into a balloon doesn’t mean I’m a talented clown that can make balloon animals.”
“You could’ve just said you turned the lightning into a balloon. You didn’t need to say it was a balloon animal.”
“Fair enough. I have seven minds inside me trying to talk at once, so making sense is hard.”
“Enough of this nonsense!”
Mr. Real shoots lightning at the ceiling, causing the building to collapse on top of them. Before a giant piece of the ceiling hits Chimera, he holds his finger out toward it. When it lands on the finger, it becomes a basketball. He then spins it and dribbles it like someone who’s not very good at dribbling.
“Catch, Real!” He throws the basketball at the villain, but the ball changes in midair into a cartoon bomb that explodes and changes the entire area into an oversized bedroom. The adversaries stand in the middle of a piece of paper on a desk in the room. A boy with messy brown hair and brown eyes looks down at the paper before bringing his pencil down on it and drawing the scene.
“What is this madness?” Mr. Real angrily calls out.
“This is Callan, and Callan is whatever we imagine it to be.”
A sun and clouds appear around them as the boy draws. Large oak trees sprout from the ground without warning. The flat paper morphs into mountains and valleys suddenly.
“Don’t you see how this is problematic?” Mr. Real asks as he jumps around the materializing obstacles. “No rules, no regulation. It doesn’t translate to the real world!”
Unsatisfied with his work, the artist begins to crumble up the piece of paper. Just before the walls of the rivals’ new world close in on them, the light-man reaches his hand out and teleports to right in front of Mr. Real. He grabs the villain with his outstretched hand and pulls him into a new dimension that forms from thin air.
Mr. Real looks around and realizes he and his new reality-bending nemesis are standing on a blue ball with green splotches. Surrounding them and the ball is absolutely nothing. Mr. Real screams like a mother who’s heard her son’s annoying favorite song too many times, then leaps toward his opponent like a bullet.
Chimera reaches out and grabs the white bullet with navy pinstripes Mr. Real morphed into and loads it into a pistol. He turns, takes aim and fires the bullet at Mr. Real. The force of the bullet sends Mr. Real falling back, but when he should hit the ground, he instead keeps falling until his momentum has him do a complete 360. When he lands back on his feet, he’s in the middle of downtown NeoCallan completely naked. NeoCallanians are bringing him their folded white suits with navy pinstripes.
“Get real, Mr. Real,” they all say as they dump the clothes on him until Mr. Real finds himself climbing through a white mound with navy pinstripes. When he emerges from the mound, he’s in downtown Callan.
“No, this can’t be,” he says to everyone and no one in particular. “This… this isn’t real.”
“Oh, Mr. Real,” Chimera greets the defeated villain. “You still don’t get it.
“What does it mean to be real? We’re playing out the words of some guy writing a story. A fictional story. Does that mean we aren’t real? Does it mean what we’ve been through didn’t actually happen? Of course it happened! It happened inside imagination. That doesn’t make it any less real, does it?”
Before Mr. Real can answer, he feels his powers being drained from his body. When he turns around to face Chimera, he’s surprised to see he’s not there. Instead, Alissa, O’Reilly, Ms. Vaughan, Mayor Chase, Chief Ryder, Johnny and Wrigley are standing in front of a crowd of Callanians who look like they’re ready to cannibalize the guy that took control of them.
That doesn’t happen though. Instead, Alissa hands him a piece of paper.
“What’s this?” he asks the girl whose powers he stole.
“You taught me a lot about NeoCallan,” she replies. “Even if you were teaching me about a fake city, you made a good teacher.”
Mr. Real examines the paper and realizes it’s a job application to teach history at Rowan James Elementary.
“I may know someone that’d be a pretty good reference for a teaching job as well,” Alissa says, nodding toward Ms. Vaughan.
Tears fill Mr. Real’s eyes. He looks at the group of Callanians as people, not pawns, for the first time. He looks down at himself and feels ashamed. Partly because of all the horrible stuff he did and partly because he’s still naked.
“Don’t get all weird,” Chief Ryder says as he takes his shirt off and hands it to Mr. Real. “Everyone deserves a second chance.”
With that, Mr. Real nods at his fellow Callanians and sets off to apply for the job. Before he gets too far, he realizes something and turns around.
“Wait,” he calls out. “So we just continue living even though we know this is all imaginary?”
The Callanians shake their heads at Mr. Real and point in the same direction. Mr. Real looks that way and sees us.
Get real, Mr. Real.
I love getting to see the realer side of the Callanians and who they are loosely based from! I love the little boy with brown hair and brown eyes creating things! I love Rowan James Elementary!
Amazing story!
I loved it! That was quite a kiss Ms Vaughan gives O’Reilly!