From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe

This is part 2 of Ms. Shock's origin story. Click here for part 1.

Crossing the Horizon

March 2007; Paragon City, RI, USA

The flight from Heathrow to Paragon City International had arrived early. While the stweardess gushed happily about the so-called "City of Heroes" and the wonders of being a superhero, the plane taxied its way to the airport's international terminal. Most of the people on the plane were tourists; they were finally getting a chance to visit the mythical city that was an inspiration for everyone, everywhere, to be something more than what they were.

One young woman seemed genuinely disinterested. She stared out of the window at other planes lazily moving across the tarmac. A small group of flying superheroes, dressed in Longbow's colors and armed to the teeth, kept a sort of combat air patrol over the busy airport. The woman watched them for a few seconds before turning away from the window. She pulled a small mirror out of her purse and tossed her short blonde hair in one hand to make it look more messy.

The plane finally stopped at the gate, the "Fasten Seat Belt" sign turned off, and everyone sprung up at once to get off of the plane. The young woman grabbed a small business-like suitcase and joined the other passengers. Within a couple of minutes, the plane was once again empty.

The passengers were funneled through a long corridor and into the airport's sizable customs facility. This area was designed by experts from several different companies and government agencies with only one thing in mind: Safety and security in a super-powered world. The arcane and technological met here and weaved themselves into a nearly impenetrable spider's web. This particular customs facility was the best in the United States, and it had a reputation to keep.

All of these little facts didn't matter, however, to a truly determined individual that had the resources of a nation to rely upon. Such was the case with the young, attractive blonde now walking towards the only public exit in this part of the airport. She approached the I.C.E. officer unhurriedly and placed her British passport on the counter.

The I.C.E. officer took the passport and examined it briefly. Wilmena Gordon, age 26. British Citizen. ID number... not registered as a genetic anomaly... not a registered superhuman. Occupation... journalist. He looked back up to the woman, then back down to the passport. Looks OK. Let's see if it tells the truth. "And what is the nature of your travel to the United States, Ms. Gordon?"

"Business," the woman replied. "My employer has just transferred me to Paragon City." The customs officer nodded and grunted; he had heard that line before.

So far, so good. "Who is your employer, ma'am?" the I.C.E. officer asked unhurriedly.

"The BBC," Ms. Gordon replied evenly.

The rest of the interview went as expected. After a few more routine questions, the officer turned towards his computer and scanned the barcode at the bottom of the passport. The passport database had Wilmena Gordon, passport number 48517584-UK-0, as a British citizen with a not-so-newly-issued true and valid passport, and it was not flagged for any further processing. Good, the I.C.E. officer thought to himself. Less work for me, a smoother travelling experience for the young lady.

The I.C.E. officer stamped the woman's passport, closed it, and returned it without any trouble. "Welcome to the United States, Ms. Gordon. I hope your stay is a pleasant one." With that done, the British woman gathered her coat and suitcase and made her way past the security gauntlet. The young customs officer glanced a little bit too long at the retreating lady's figure, took a sip of his coffee, and called out for the next incoming traveller.

It would be a few days before I.C.E. or anyone else in the American government would catch on to who Wilmena Gordon really was and that Paragon City's supposedly impenetrable security net had been penetrated... again. Of course, no one would find out the latter bit of news; Arachnos didn't want to advertise that the Department of Homeland Security had been infiltrated, nor did they want Paragon City International to become a potential battlefield.

By that time, Christina Golden had pulled her equipment out of a dumpster in Steel Canyon and joined the ranks of the super-powered. It was the perfect cover; where else would you not look to find a clandestine military agent than amongst some of the best and brightest in the world? She would keep her day job at the British Embassy and simply continue her search for her brother at night.

Nothing But a Name

March 2007, Paragon City's City Hall

The process for becoming a registered superhuman was so simple. You didn't even need to prove that you had a special ability... nor did you really need one. Many registered superheroes/villains simply had something unique about them: They had a certain subset of knowledge, technology, or natural ability that made them stand out above the rest. Of course, what you classified each individual's uniqueness could certainly vary.

At least that's what the bureaucrats at City hall wanted you to think, is generally the next thought in prospective superhuman's heads. Reality was much different; some of the new heroes and villians couldn't get past the first thing they had to write down on the form.

Such was the dilemma facing Christina Golden today. She had the Paragon City Form 351785-S Short Form, also known as a New Superhuman Registration Form (Short Form), revision 11, in her hands along with a sharpened pencil (too many mistakes were made on these forms, the receptionist at City Hall told her.) The form was still blank. At the very top of the form, below the city seal and the title of the form, was the very first thing that the form asked for.

Superhuman Alias.

Christina sighed in frustration and looked around her. All kinds of superhumans - cyborgs, wizards, little kids, and even stranger sorts - were all sitting around this room, filling out their forms. Some were just as frustrated and stymied as she was; others were simply going through the motions as if this was the third or five-thousandth time they had done this.

There would be no help coming from them. All of these people... or whatever you would want to call them... had their own problems to deal with. They wouldn't be able to choose a name for her. Christina snorted. "What a shock," she said under her breath. "All of these bloody supers, and not one of them has the ability to pick a fitting name..."

And that's when inspiration struck like a brick through a glass window.

Christina smiled to herself. Too simple, she thought to herself. So is Statesman. And he's one of the best there is. Christina inwardly shrugged. It was just a name. It didn't matter if she called herself "The British Cuisinart from the Ninth Level of Hell" as long as her deeds were remembered. The only problem was trying to remember a long, drawn out moniker like that.

No, simplicity would be best.

With that done, Christina moved on with the rest of the application.

Nationality: British.
Source of Power (choose only one): Technologic.
Race (choose only one): Human (Homo sapiens.)
Superhuman Classification (this one had several areas to check off, and Christina had to get help several times to figure out exactly what each classification meant): Electric/Energy Manipulation Blaster.

The form was deceptively simple once you understood what Paragon City was looking for. Christina walked back over to the desk where she got the form; the placard above the desk read "Superhero Registration." The young woman sitting at the desk unhurriedly looked over to Christina and faked a caring smile. "Place the form on my desk, we'll contact you when it gets submitted," she said in a bored tone.

Christina did exactly that and walked out of City Hall. Her new identity was now forged in the annals of superhero history. She would never again be known as Christina Golden; her assumed identity of Wilmena Gordon would fall to the wayside as well. Instead, the vast number of people on Earth - civilian, hero, and villain alike - would come to know her as yet another name.

Ms. Shock.