[ WP ] A super-hero/heroine returns home , having failed to save the world . He/She has but a few minutes with his/her family before the world is destroyed .

Jaw clenched against the shooting pains that racked his body, Power Man struggled to stay aloft as he sped toward home. He had been alive for many lifespans of ordinary men. He had fought in countless battles, and he had saved mankind from disaster as many times. He had experienced, in fact been responsible for, many triumphs. But it was the heartache that he remembered. His agelessness was as much blessing as curse. His loved ones lived and died, their lives a blink of an eye compared to his own -- scoured away by the winds of time. He endured, though, seeking the answer to that ultimate question: why? Recently, that question had been answered. 
 
 In all his years -- his millennia of existence -- he had never encountered another being like himself. And so he wondered, why? From as early as he could remember, he had felt a protective instinct for the weak and oppressed, and that is what he did. He was a champion of those people, and almost without fail, he found that those people were good. The powerful -- the oppressors -- were, concordantly, almost always bad. 
 
 *But why was that? * he thought. *Why were the bad so socially bouyant? * 
 
 He never found an answer to that question, but, as a matter of course, he defended the weak. It just... made sense, to him. And he was content with this existence. 
 
 However, a growing sense of foreboding had been punctuated not a week ago. Chaos had come, and it rode in on the tail of a comet. His question had been answered. His purpose: fulfilled. He wished it had n't been. What arrived in the wake of that blood-red comet was his antithesis. His nemesis. His purpose. This... *being*... was almost identical, yet opposite, to him in every way. Except one: this newcomer was superior. He was stronger than Power Man. Faster. Smarter. Power Man had done battle with him for days, on end, and he had lost every time. It was then that Power Man had realized the answer to his second question. The powerful were bad because, quite simply, they were superior. Not morally, no, but nature did n't concern herself with such things. The strong survived. The strong prevailed. And they did not keep their crowns by sympathy and good will. Power Man was defeated, in mind, body, and soul. 
 
 Tattered cape fluttering behind him, Power Man gingerly alighted on the lawn of his modest suburban home. His wife and small child came running out to greet him, bright expressions quickly turning to worry upon seeing his condition. Power Man sank to one knee, head bowed and fist to ground to support him, as his wounds overcame him. His son -- the only son he had ever sired, coincidentally -- ran over to embrace him. It took all of his restraint to fight the tears back. Just now, he realized the monumental consequence of his failure. Even more, he realized the fate his family would suffer should his nemesis learn who they were. 
 
 His wife arrived at his side and knelt next to him, hand on his shoulder. It was too much -- his son's embrace, the look in his wife's eyes. He had failed everyone. He could n't hold back anymore. As thousands of years of sorrow, culminating in this moment, crashed upon him, he wept. For the first time in his life, he openly wept. He let down his godlike facade, and, for once, he felt like a mortal man. He doubled over with sobs. 
 
 After some time -- minutes, hours, he did not know -- he collected himself. He looked deeply into the eyes of his son and his wife, in turn, and he smiled. He knew what had to be done. 
 
 `` Valerie, I hope you know how much I love you,'' Power Man said. `` You have made my life whole, and you have borne me a son. You ca n't know how much that means to me.'' 
 
 With that, he turned to his son. He was so perfect in his innocence, full of potential and promise. Promise that would never be realized because of his father's failure. Power Man mustered all the courage he could, and addressed his son. 
 
 `` Cam,'' he said, `` I want you to know, no matter what happens, I'll always be there.'' 
 
 He knew it to be a lie, in his heart, but it was a necessary one. All of this -- the end of the world -- was just too much to heap on a little kid. 
 
 `` I've got ta go deal with the bad man, just like I always do, okay?'' Power Man said, tears welling up in his eyes again. Cam nodded. `` You go inside, Champ, okay?'' he said, giving his son one last hug and ruffling his hair before he scampered off. 
 
 `` Power Man! Come face me, coward!'' a voice boomed in the distance. At this, his wife began to weep. 
 
 `` Take him. Take him and go as far away as possible. Hide as best you can.'' Power Man said to his wife. She nodded vigorously between sobs. `` I... I ca n't beat him.'' Power Man said, looking down dejectedly. `` I ca n't beat him, but I *have* to try.'' 
 
 `` I understand,'' Valerie said, crying, `` I understand.'' 
 
 Power Man stood, drawing himself up, mustering all the strength that he could manage, and he embraced his wife. After a long while, he stepped back. He sought for words, but they never came. Power Man and his wife simply stared into one another's eyes, and it seemed, oddly enough, a fitting goodbye. 
 
 With a deep breath and a stiffened upper lip, Power Man crouched and bounded into the sky like a cannon ball. Valerie looked on as his contrail streaked away, his sonic boom parting the strangely calm twilight. She watched as the love of her life and humanity's only hope streaked away, likely never to return.
