112ZERO TO HERO.
The world is shit. How many times have you heard someone utter those words a day? A thousand? Ten maybe? How about all the time. The world is shit. Is something I say a lot of times in one day, so many times that I lose count.
To put it bluntly, we are all swimming in a pool of dark vile muck, no matter how hard we try we will all still drown in darkness, because there is no light to save us.
Edgy? Maybe. Realistic? Depends. Cynical? Absolutely yes. I have zero faith in humanity, so much so that it is borderline sociopathic. My light died when my family did. My eyes were pried open to the filth and darkness that hung over us at the age of 14. I knew that there was no redemption at the end of the road. All there was, was nothingness.
So as I walked through this garbage littered, spider web cracked sidewalk, joining the organic drones of office workers and hustlers, lost in their own little worlds. I steeled myself.
I turned my eye away from the screaming man being stabbed in an alley.
Or the protesting child being dragged by the hand towards a revved up car.
Or the kneeling elderly woman that just had her bag snatched and her face busted up.
Like the drones, the lifeless masses, I mind my business and walk to my destination. The world is shit.
I was ashamed. I am ashamed. I wonder if I could ever be able to look my uncle bob in the eye if he were still alive. What a disappointment I would be to him. But he's dead. The hero, the man who saved, died. And I'm alive. Even as a spineless coward. Even as another lifeless drone, I was still alive, no, I was merely existing. The world is shit.
[Turn left] My smart glasses directed and I followed, matching my footsteps to its rhythm. The stifling heat causing me to take deeper breaths from my inhaler capsule. The dust gathering on the dark boundary of my glasses that protected my eyes.
It was really hot.
After the decade of drought, the global warming took extraordinary spikes. And today was one of those days were everyone felt it.
The tint on my smart glasses turned darker, protecting my eyes from the angry glare of sunlight. I stopped in my tracks, before me was a gagged woman struggling against two men who had pinned her to the ground. Her clothes ripped and discarded, her bruised eyes painfully pleading. "Heheh, yeah bitch just enjoy it" the one on top of her says. The world is shit.
I turn around putting the alley behind me, my steps are heavy, I can feel her painful betrayed gaze on my back. I'm not a savior, what was she expecting? My uncle bob would turn in his grave if he found out what I had grown to become.
But I can survive. I'll avoid these people and I get to live another day, without trouble. What does this make it now, the 11th or 12th time this week? Why am I keeping count? Maybe it's because I myself was once a victim, but that was long ago when I was younger, when my eyes were still closed.
Where are you God? Why are you letting this happen? Just destroy us sooner than planned. Maybe we'll find peace then.
"Hey!" once again, I am frozen in my steps. Was I going to get involved in this now?
"Stop it you filthy bastards!" a voice shouts out from behind me. I know it isn't the police, the police don't speak, they deliver the necessary punishments for your crimes and leave.
I am surprised. A man who looks to be in his late middle ages, screams at the two rapists as he runs towards them from the other side of the alley. This is truly a sight to behold. Heroes don't exist anymore, not in my world. When I say heroes I don't mean the comic book characters, I mean people who help each other. I mean good Samaritans. They went extinct like the dinosaurs, the very act of helping was as foreign to my generation as fire was to the lungs. So saying I am surprised is an understatement. That man looks like my uncle bob, who was the very last hero I knew.
The thugs are startled, the police could be alerted and that would spell doom for them. They run and stumble through another path but not before making the cut throat sign to the man. The one behind lingers his gaze on me for a moment and disappears into the concrete jungle.
He helps the sobbing woman and calls the emergency services, that is if they would even come to these parts or respond to his calls. In his eyes I saw something I rejected, humanity.
I turned on my feet and made my exit. So what if I saw some guy acting hero. He'll die soon anyway, this world won't allow you to bring your foreign light into its darkness. But why was I feeling this way? Why am I so affected by the it? Why was there a fire burning in my scarred chest.
When I was 13 years old, I was shot right through the chest, two inches away from the heart. It was from a stray polymer bullet, from the past times when the police used to do the gang cleansings. I lay bleeding out on the streets, next to unlucky others who had been shot in more fatal areas. But I was dying so it didn't matter then. Dying was terrifying. It's nothing like in the movies or books, dying was absolutely terrifying, my life didn't flash in front of my eyes, my future did. I had wondered if maybe it would be tragically romantic with me wondering if I would have become something great to make my family proud, or if I would've become a millionaire have money and women and whatever I wanted.
But that wasn't the case, my heart was pounding in my chest, so loud I could hear it through the thundering barrage of bullets flying around. And because of that I was bleeding out more, dying even faster. It was terrifying.
As the glare of sunlight stung my tear filled eyes and snot smeared face, I felt something wrap around me. And in that embrace I saw the dark chocolate, sweat filled face of an absolute stranger. He wasn't smiling, he was scared, but even through fear he summoned courage. His coal black hair had a sheen to it as the golden rays of sunlight struck it, his firm eyes shifting from spot to spot as I felt the rush of wind on my bloodstained clothes and slightly numb body. Everything became woozy, when my mind became cognitive once more I found out that he had carried me to the ER, he stood arguing with doctors. They said I wouldn't make it, I was too far gone, lost too much blood. The man refused to let it go, refused to let me die. Why a total stranger would go to such lengths was beyond me. But that thing he did, it inspired something in me. Something I had been trying to kill ever since I felt it, something I ignored and would never acknowledge until today.
Because I was tired of conforming to the will of the world. I was tired of merely existing as a drone, as a spineless meatbag, an organic machine that consumed air and food just to merely exist. I don't even know what I wanted. But it included freedom. Freedom from the darkness, and maybe just maybe, this little stupid act of mine could inspire others to shine their lights in this dark world. To not be afraid of it, oh my Bob! Joseph did you just sound optimistic?! I heard my mind question incredulously. Maybe I am.
I hugged the crying child tighter to my chest, pulling the other one closer to my sides and I increased my running speed. The sounds of barks and hurried footsteps right behind me. My lungs burned, like the back of my throat, my heart pounded like the pistons in an engine. My feet raced on the cement flooring.
I'm not good, I know that. With the shit I've done, performing these acts today would be meaningless in trying to wash away all that filth I had accumulated over my 20 years of existing. But I would still do it, I would still put myself on the line and try to help, because it's MY! DAMN! CHOICE! I want to. I wasn't forced, I wasn't coerced into it, I wanted to.
So what if the world is shit, we made it that way. And we have the power to change it, we can make our own fires to drive away this darkness! The power is in my hands, in yours, in ours! Just use it. If you don't want to, that's your choice, just don't stop me.
I won't turn a blind fucking eye anymore, and if I die here today, let it be known that I Joseph Ilonne, died a good death, doing what I wanted to. You can mock me if you want to, you can call me pathetic or whatever the fuck you want to. But I, I did something. Who knows, maybe these kids I save today would save others tomorrow, and then a the cycle would be created and continued till the world becomes a better place. Maybe it inspires others lights to burn brighter, till the light becomes too bright for the darkness. Till it's filthy hold over us is broken.
They were catching up to me. The situation was becoming dire. I could feel their shadows trying to weigh me down. I could hear their slurs and insults getting closer. I could feel the fear trying to chip away my resolve. The voices asking of what I thought of myself, mocking me with each step I took. The darkness laughing in my face at the futility of my actions. My legs burning with fatigue and tiredness.
[400m to destination] the glasses announced. In that moment of distraction, I had nearly bumped into a figure that appeared from the shadows. I thought I had been ambushed, that I had failed, my heart ached at such.
I was frozen stiff, this had to be an act of God. Miracles don't just happen, "how the fuck?!" was what I uttered when I came face to face with the middle aged man I met in the alley way that had rescued the molested lady sometime last week.
He seemed to have been running towards us, towards the sound of trouble, this guy was very likely suicidal. I could barely speak of what I wanted when our eyes met. I just pushed the kids on to him.
"Take! Run huff! To Pol statio-huff! Station." I began to push him along, when I had gotten enough air into my lumpy throat I spoke again. "I'll stay, buying you time. Just go!" in his eyes were the same look uncle Bob had. Courage through fear. The fire to change the world.
"You're a good kid. I knew you had it in you. I'll be wai-"
"Old Man would you shut the hell up and go! Save the preach for the damn congregation. Just go! Please!" What the hell is it with people. This isn't a movie for goodness sake. I turned around to go enact my plan, a small hand held and tugged at the corner of my shirt. My head snapped back, one of the kids was looking me and holding on.
"It's OK. This uncle here will get you to your parents alright. I'm just going to keep the bad dogs away from you, okay. Everything is going to be super ok, and just fine, be a big girl and don't cry anymore." I patted and rubbed her head as she nodded. The middle aged man held onto them protectively and began to run, I stood watching him leave before he came to an abrupt stop.
"What's your name?!" he shouted distances away.
Old people and heroics, I nearly chuckled.
"It's Joseph, now get going grandpa" he smiled, nodded proceeded to leave.
"Haaa" I exhaled. There were no weapons for me to wield so I improvised. I took my smart glasses off and broke the metal frames, I winced There goes my comics archive and family files.
Holding it like small knives. This was getting cringy. Well, I was hoping not to die, you know. Maybe the intrinsic goodness in their hearts would surface at this moment like a pent up climax and overwhelm me with rainbows.
Vicious looking dogs were held by the chains around their necks. The thugs who chased after me with hot boiling rage on their faces looked like they were about to tear me apart.
"Hey Fags! I'm right here, and my dick is up and ready for action!" what a stupid line, but it had the desired effect. I made them angrier. Me and my mouth. "So who's first"
"You're gonna regret this you cocksuker. I'm a make it real painful for you" the one in lead spat. Every inch of his body littered with tattoos. The ugly jumbled up kind. I had tattoos too, they were sleeves, neat and nice "Go eat boy" he said to the dog
"WOOF! WOOF!" the chains rattled and the beast was set loose. Everything slowed down in picture perfect 4k HD. Every strand of spit that escaped the maws of the beast, every little crease and tick on its face, even its large squirming tongue, it's thick bulging muscles drawn taut, it's paws raised, as it launched at me. This had to be one of those bioengineered dog breeds, like a cross between a mastiff and a tiger. I am a fairly skilled fighter, you don't get to go through what I have without picking up any skills. But that was fighting people, this is totally different.
One moment it was meters away from me and in the next, it was centimeters away from my throat.
My heart pounded in terror. No one wants to die.
KRUNCH! Went my windpipe as jagged teeth clamped on it, the metal frame in my hand stabbing into it's unguarded eye. It howled in pain, releasing my throat. I stabbed again at its unguarded neck. The metal frame broke. The dog looked at me with a vengeance and it growled. I smiled,my eyes staring at the sky.
BLEM! The dog made a yawn like painful howl, stumbled and fell limply to the side, lifeless. "Who the hell?!" "the fuck?" "Where?!" they shouted.
Bratatatatatata bratatatatata Bratatatatata.
"Shit! It's them bluebirds!" "Run!"
Bratatatattatat! Bratatatatatata! A carpet of bullets rained down on the thugs. The blue birds were standard police drones. And the police didn't fuck around.
The sounds gradually became less and less audible. My body was going numb and I was coughing out blood. I felt this way once. Death's cold touch. I couldn't stop tears from going down my eyes.
I couldn't stop choking and wheezing. I was scared, but not scared as well.
If I had another chance, I'd do it better. But even I wasn't that optimistic. No boys and girls this was the end of the road for me. I'll be joining my family in heaven….na,I'm going to hell. But if I do go to heaven, that'd be a solid 10, GOD. Oh shit, fuck! God please just, have mercy on my soul. I know I wasn't good, I tried and you know how that went. Tears kept falling down my face as the shapes now went blurry. My heart was beating faster, my body wanted more oxygen and I was losing blood.
I guess this is it. Dying sucks, heh, dying sucks. Don't listen to people who romanticize it, dying sucks badl- "Urk! Urhk" the last breath of life left his lips.
And thus was the death of Joseph Illonne, the man who tried to do good, the one who found his hidden, silenced light and made it shine brilliantly.
-XXXX-
"It's Iron man!" "Whooo! We love you!" "Yeah!" I raised my head to stare at the clear blue skies with tinges of golden. A humanoid figure, clad in red and gold armor left a white wispy trail in the air, like a flying knight with rocket boots. He paused in mid air, demonstrating the sophistication of his highly advanced technological armor. The figure waved, the now gathering crowd burst out in unrestrained jubilation, throwing praises at the flying tin man. I awoke from my stupor and pulled my backpack filled with books closer and continued on my path. This wasn't the first time I was seeing such displays. It's quite common in midtown Manhattan actually.
The Stark Tower was one of the most outstanding buildings in midtown Manhattan, it was hard to miss no matter how you looked at it.
I know, I know. How does this tie in to the earlier narration and my death? Well that's a bit of a short story. I died being a hero(yes I was) and I woke up with a headache. I'm sure you're not supposed to feel anything after death, right? So it clearly wasn't heaven. No it was a hospital. Calm down, I wouldn't be saying I died if my torn neck was fixed up. No, I woke up in a totally different body, in a totally different time and in a totally different reality.
A reality that should have been pictures on a page or characters on a smart screen. But no, this was a world where fiction was reality, well parts of it.
This world was Marvel Universe. Not just the MCU, lord if it was, I would be stroking my super-powered rod right now in endless pleasure. No, this wasn't just the Marvel Universe, it was an amalgamation of the movies and comics including the X-men, a place where heroes existed, a place where villains existed, a place of aliens and mutants existed. That's right Mutants with a capital M. They were all here.
When I found out for the first time, I did go into shock for the first thirty hours. And then into a fit of mad laughter for the rest of it. Because I've read the stories on how transmigrators / reincarnators would go on to obtain so much powers. All the opportunities to become a God! That dream was killed when I visited a library for the first time.
Let's start with the most popular choice, extremist virus.
The extremis virus, was not a bottle of fix-it superpowers serum. No it was nanotechnology being pioneered by stark industries after Mallen, a techno terrorist who used it in one of his attacks, was apprehended.
The mandarin was the leader of the ten rings terrorist organization, and he had literal ten rings with various magical powers on his fingers, he was in no way related to extremis.
Captain America serum's then.
Various super organizations have been trying to replicate the super soldier serum of Captain America in experiments that created monstrosities and hell spawns. The last of which was Dr Bruce Banner's hulk, a living weapon of mass destruction who's current location was currently unknown. The general public don't seem to know that Banner is hulk, they just know he created it.
So anything that had to do with, 'human experiments' and radiation -especially gamma- was heavily restricted and highly monitored by the super military spy organization, Shield. Super tech military organization that has branches all over the world. Not like the one from the MCU, this one was larger and very established. They had eyes all over the world and they were the undisputed forefront of military operations and what not.
Oh and the Avengers formed. They are very, very popular. Basically superhero celebs. With captain America being the de facto leader (we all know Tony won't admit it) They had an addition of some other characters from the cartoons on the team, like ant man and wasp, ant man here was Hank Pym and sometimes Scott Lang. Of course they kept their identities a secret, those of them that wanted to.
Then there were the defenders, street level heroes. Alpha flight of the new captain marvel, Carol Danvers. The X-men, representatives of mutant kind. And of course AIM, Hydra, Oscorp and so much more.
Spiderman is here as well, he swings in to save people and do what any normal Spiderman would do, maybe there'd be Deadpool. I'm not too sure about it, seeing as I've only been here for three months now(cue in backstory). In the body of a David Creed. African American, 17 years old this year. No filial relations, raised in an orphanage till he ran off to hang with bad 'friends' had his head pounded by a wooden baseball bat, found bleeding out on the streets, died for ten whole minutes on the hospital bed before he miraculously came back to life. Hold up lemme catch my breath, huff. OK that should sum it up quite nicely. I'm handsome tho, I had sharp facial features, short black hair, hawk like eyebrows complimenting my bright brown eyes, square Jaws and complete pearly whites(my goodness they are beautiful).
It's nothing special around these parts, everyone I've met here looks like a part time supermodel, even the people who shouldn't. God must really love this world.
You know what? I am actually quite grateful. Look, I know when the people in stories get this type of chance they go all, 'absolute power or death!' but I am honestly happy. Can you imagine it really? This is basically a do-over. I mean sure the circumstances aren't exactly the same, but they are quite similar. How many of us wished we'd done something different when we were teenagers, how many people tell themselves 'if only I'd done this or that?' or 'if only I'd know this or that then?' I have the opportunity to actually do it all over again and this time do it right. Plus I get to relive as a teenager, power and all that can come later. I, the way and live in the moment matters the most.
I was currently staying in a rented room(dump) in the not so clean parts of town. While it did violate some living regulations and more, I wasn't complaining. The place was as affordable as I could well, afford. I had jobs at various places and an odd job or two here and there. Still trying to find my bearings and a stable footing after evading the services. Maybe when I have enough capital I could start up a company, and build some of the tech from my world. Who I'm I kidding, these people are technologically advanced too. They went to space way earlier than my earth did, they were able to by adapting alien tech into theirs. And they've been to the moon many, many times.
Half of everything I had thought up had already been invented. Plus it didn't help that I wasn't a super genius with photographic memory. I did have a good memory, just not photographic like everyone else here seems to possess.
The lights in the spray painted halls clicked and flickered. The rotten stench coming from behind some locked doors left me questioning where a body was decaying in them. But it was probably the meth heads or the weird fat dude who only came out to receive his pizza delivery.
"Hey, Dave." sigh. I stopped trying to shove the key into the rusted keyhole and looked at the caller. Mr Johnson. He was your typical old, hardened landlord. The kind that only wore a white shirt and blue jeans with untied boots. Had gray hair on the temples with an always mean mug on his face, with a barbed wire tattoo on his neck.
"Mr Johnson, you look well sir" I said with a smile.
"Kiddo, have my rent by next week or you're out. No more excuses" he expression barely even changing.
"I will, Mr Johnson. Thank you" he huffed and went about his business. I finally pushed the key into the lock and twisted. Slamming the creaking door shut behind me. I let another breath out to calm myself. With all this stress you'd think my X gene would trigger. Oh I had one, the hospitals here scan for it, it was just dormant and unresponsive, and most likely useless like normal people's. I am slightly thankful for that. You won't believe the type of shit mutant get dealt with. It's racism supreme. A messed up saying I heard around the hardcore haters was 'A good mutant was a dead one' Yeah, mutants weren't really viewed in a good light, largely due to that acts of terrorism by magneto, ignorance, misinformation, and because of their powers and the unpredictability of it and its effects.
I mean, you could be living next to a live bomb and you don't even know it. All it takes is one bad day and boom. You life is gone.
I dropped my backpack by the corner. The room was just that, a room. Square living box, wide single window, barely furnished with a single bed on the uncarpeted floor, a wooden chair and a scrap laptop.
I flopped down on my seat and turned the laptop on. I had to make research on a subject. I was studying for the ged and sats I would take at the end of this month. It was the easiest way to get a good paying job and take myself out of this squalor. Once I had the papers, things would be easier. I left the page to load, the wifi was free, but the connection in fact was the worse. I could barely browse the web as it is.
I leaned back and let my mind drift off to my imaginations. Here I was, saying I was going to be a hero. When I barely even had food to eat, so much for the second chance. I would help, I really would but for now I needed to build a base and have a steady income of cash. I browsed through my memories for superhero origins to maybe try and replicate one, but I knew that, that was just plain dumb. Most of those people survived through sheer luck, and for the others they had super pockets and superbrains, I barely even had any as is (luck or money). So I go into my mind and think up various scenarios, or origin stories and some random stuff, it has been my favorite activity to do while waiting. It also helped me, refresh and sort my memories.
You know, I actually had some DC equations. With the number of times I had gone over them on my glasses, those formulas and equations were burned in my memory. Every DC fan knew them, you just had to sit down in the privacy of your room and recite it, who hasn't? No one has ever summoned DC equations in a Marvel Universe.
Nobody ever really has done that, even in the countless fics I've read. There's no harm in trying right?
Alrighty then, let's go:
"Life equation. companionship + understanding + assurance + joy + altruism ÷ respect ÷ commendation ÷ sympathy x innocence x dignity x success x acceptance y=n where y=despair and n=caution, love=truth, death=rebirth, and self=light side. White power ring of life come to me!" Nothing happened. Not even a single reaction. Dammit, I was this close to becoming a white lantern. Oh well moving on.
"Anti Life equation. loneliness + alienation + fear + despair + self-worth ÷ mockery ÷ condemnation ÷ misunderstanding × guilt × shame × failure × judgment n=y where y=hope and n=folly, love=lies, life=death, self=dark side. I am Darkseid!" still nothing. Well worth a try.
I took a deep breath and focused, then shouted. "SHAZAM!" nothing happened. This was actually embarrassing, shouting out nonsense alone in my room. The page on the laptop was still loading. The only one left was the speed force. I highly doubt that it would work. I mean talking about it like this now, would seem like the best time for the narrative that precedes the acquisition of a superpower for a somewhat unbelievabing person. So you get what I'm trying to do.
"3X2(9YZ)4A" Click. I was genuinely scared when everything just went silent. Sound ceased to exist and I was frozen in place at the clear crisp sound of a click. And then a deafening silence. I felt something in me begin to react. It felt slow at first but it became faster and faster and faster. KRAKOOM!
My whole room quaked at the voice of god, I was rattled to the bone marrow , a bucket wide, bolt of white lightning obliterated my window. The lightning was the most beautiful, exotic thing I had ever laid eyes on, it sped at me like a bullet aimed at my heart and drained into my chest when it struck me. It felt like an electric shock, but with 10 million volts. I could smell my flesh cook as the plasma turned my clothes to ash when it finally hit me. I was tossed across the room from the force of the impact.
My brain felt like it was being boiled in hot bubbling oil, my very existence was painful. I would scream, but I couldn't. I was burned, very, very badly and saying everything hurt, was an understatement. I was in so much agony that I might have invented the word. The last thing I saw before my eyes went blind was fire spread from my room and it resulted in another explosion. Probably the meth lab going up in flames.
Even through all this, I felt something slot into place, like it should have always been. Like the final missing piece to the jigsaw of my being finally found and put in the right place. The sensation in me was harmonized with whatever had struck me and a sort of satisfaction overwhelmed me. A connection, a link to something larger than life, something greater than I could comprehend. It was there for me.
Officer Mike and and his partner Jones looked at the burnt pieces of wood and concrete that was once an apartment of people. The disgusting smell of burnt flesh and wood still lingered in the smoke filled air.
Officer Mike ran his hands over his trimmed mustache, it was a habit that helped him relax.
"What are the casualties?" He asked.
"Well, so far, thirty-six intact bodies found. No survivors" His partner responded as he read the report.
"So do we have any idea what happened here?"
"The report says the fire started from an explosion that occurred in an illegal meth lab being run in one of the rooms by a small time gang. But here's the weird part, eyewitnesses say they saw a massive bolt of lightning in the building, resulting in a fire."
"Who were the eyewitnesses?"
"Them" Jones pointed at the homeless people who were still busily narrating what they saw. Of course no one took their words to heart, the hobos were obviously high out of their minds. If their minds were still even properly functional. As they one of them claimed that it was the act of aliens and another saying it was the hand of god.
It was just another day in the bad parts of town. This wasn't the first time such had occurred, the crime wave had been on a rise recently but this was by far the most destructive. Things had to be done, or casualties would continue to rise.
/X/
"Hmm!" a man in a silver wheelchair suddenly exclaimed in pain, his brown suit ruffled as he pried off the a metallic helmet from his head, displaying his bald head and smooth features.
"Is everything alright Professor?" Asked the woman who stood behind a control panel. Her shoulder length stunning red hair swaying with the steps of her feet.
"Jean, dear. Cerebro just sensed a very powerful mutant manifesting. It was just for a moment, but I am certain that the individual is an omega level mutant, or possibly beyond. And that mutant is here in New York."
"They might be scared or worse, in danger right now. They probably won't have control over their powers and that could result in a disaster"
"Indeed Jean, inform the others. When the signature shows up again we will have to locate this mutant. I am hopeful that he or she is still alive"
Jean nodded to the professor's word, leaving him to go update the rest of her colleagues. Another powerful mutant, and one that could be omega or beyond was as rare as they came. If they ever did.
You are stuck in momentary darkness, and then your sight returns when your eyes pop back in, healed. You get pins and needles sensations throughout your body, like the bite of a thousand ants crawling over your skin, as the damaged nerves, tissues and organs regenerate and weave back together. Then the skin to hold it all together. All the while in Agony, but you can't scream since your vocal chords are still being knitted. The phantom pains causes you to lose your senses if you can't endure it. And then comes the itch, oh goodness the unimaginable itch that makes you want to scratch your skin with a metal bristle brush.
Now imagine going through all that in what seems like days.
Red and golden wisps of electricity lit up around my body, illuminating the dark wooden box with a micro disco like display. The lightning had killed me, no seriously I died again, burnt to a crisp. Why do you think I was in a coffin? I don't know how long I was dead for but my body had been put into a coffin and buried. I knew that the explosion that came about as a result of my powers would result in casualties. I saw the raging fires clung to the walls of my room before I blanked out. I was truly sorry about that, but it was something I had no control over. I couldn't even save myself. I couldn't have known that it would actually work! I really couldn't have known. There's no way for me to make up for it. They were already dead, I couldn't beat myself up about it either. I know this is a second chance, and I'm trying to do good. And maybe something out there is giving me a hand, saying: 'you know what, alright here's your superpower have a go at it. Help people' I will.
My newly acquired powers were remaking my body. Rebuilding it to better be able to use said powers. Which I was certain was the Speed Force. How else do I explain the level my mind was running at? It is off the charts. Can you understand what I'm saying here? My mental capacity and thought speed have exceeded limits I can properly define. It's like all my life I've been a broken car using square wheels for a movement. Now it's like I'm hyper aerodynamic hover car, the friction is so little it barely even registers, wheels don't matter anymore.
But the thing is, if I don't leave this box soon I might die permanently. The air wasn't that much and I haven't eaten for quite sometime now — I was starving. I'm sure the Speed Force could keep me holding up for a while, but how -torturously- long exactly would that be? I know I wasn't at the level of the flash, that would take some time. But I could reach it. I can feel my connection to it, the mystical extra dimensional energy that was always there, grow and bolster with each breath I took. It wasn't from this dimension, it's from beyond it. I became its connection point to this place. It was in me, generated with each heartbeat. Each breath, the infinite energy at my fingertips seeped into my being. The Speed Force.
I calmed my breath. Focusing on my speed and began to vibrate. This was try number 24. Intangibility was much harder than it looked in comics. You're trying to vibrate at a unique dimensional frequency that would allow you(your molecules) to phase through matter. Locating the frequency was the hardest part. And keeping your body vibrating on it wasn't a walk in the park either. But once you had it down, it became like a well honed muscle memory.
My body was vibrating - existing- in multiple states at once. Quantum tunneling. I could die right now, a dust particle could be lodged somewhere in my body it isn't supposed to and that'd be it.
But the Speed Force is protecting me, it's Aura like a protective form fitting bubble around me. Allowing me to do the impossible without the brunt of most consequences. I won't lie, I am excited. This is extraordinary. Was this how superheroes felt? Knowing you had amazing abilities at your beck and call is a feeling words can't describe.
It makes you feel like you're chosen, like a religious fanatic meeting their god. I see why people might get lost and drunk on this feeling. Why you would want to subjugate others, because your powers made you feel like you're higher than them. Makes you feel like a god.
Not me. I knew my beginnings. I knew how I got here. I wanted to help, not add to the problem. This was an opportunity that was nothing less of miracles. I would do right.
I pushed forward. But I didn't go forward, no I was wildly falling deeper into the ground. I was burying myself deeper and deeper the more I trashed about, if I didn't do something I would eventually fall so deep I might reach the Earth's core, or die when I lost concentration. Panic was trying to set in, fear was gnawing at the back of my skull.
Calm down, calm down. Logic over panic.
I reined it in. And steadily went at it. Like threading a needle, easy and steadily.
The invisible Speed Force Aura protecting me, allowing me to walk, breathe and respire even at such great pressure and circumstances.
I began walking upwards, my bare feet pushing down on the soft soil. The clothes on me had long fallen off during my moment of panic. Everything was dark, but I instinctively knew the way up, it a 3d sense of my position relative to the space I was in, a type of inbuilt sensor to always be upright, to always know where my body was. The enhanced senses of my body coming to live.
I didn't burst through the topsoil. I phased right up. The ground on which I was buried was barely disturbed.
I inhaled. Taking in a breath of fresh, clean air. The golden rays of sunlight slightly warming my skin, as the trimmed grass beneath my feet was.
The cool wind moving through the quiet serene graveyard. There were no flowers on my tombstone (Turns out I've been buried for a week). But that wasn't what grabbed my attention, no, everything was going in slow motion when I actually focused. The birds in the sky, the bee paused kid flight on a flower, the drifting dead leaves stuck in air.
Everything, was in very slow motion. I realized that faint flicks of red electricity roamed around my naked body. I relaxed, I had to attune myself to real time, my perception was running fast in response to my mind speed's.
This could end badly if I didn't learn to control it, imagine living out a year when it was just a month in real time. Speedsters were most prone to going insane, when your mind was picturing things moving at such slow speeds the only person you can talk to would be yourself, everyone else would just be stuck in place to you. It would be hell.
I relaxed, things gradually sped up till it resumed normal speed, like hitting the play button on a paused video.
Clothes were the least of my worries right now. Shield could be watching me from their satellites or some other piece of sophisticated tech, but that wasn't at the top of my list either.
I was hungry, I'm starving, I could eat any food right now even vegan.
But I guess that too would have to wait.
"Lad, come. Come with me and join your family. You might be confused now, but you are a mutant, one of us. We watch over each other, we will not abandon you" Red helmet almost spartan, red full-body armor with purple gauntlets, cape and legwear. Magneto and his team of mutants slowly descended from the skies and approached me.
This was magneto! I was more surprised about meeting him than his offer.
"Kid, don't listen to him!" a male voice sounded out from a loudspeaker. And holyshit it was the X-men in a classic looking blackbird that was just invisible moments ago was now approaching.
Why the hell were all these people here?...Oh, ohh, ohhh. I get it now. I'm a mutant aren't I? And a powerful one at that right? And all these guys wanted that high level player on their teams. When the hell did my X gene even activate? Was it when I died or when I was struck by the lightning. What was my power? It couldn't be the Speed Force, we all know that the Speed Force was an extra dimensional energy that speedsters tapped into. But weren't speedsters meta humans? Now wasn't the time for this.
These people were giving me their sales pitch.
"Hmm" I turned to stare at a red head, Jean Grey, she seemed to be in her very early twenties, had the right curves in all the right places.
She had two fingers on her temples, her brows crumpled, like she was having a hard time doing something. Something wavy kept trying to meet my head. Like a silent barely noticed breeze caressing my head. Was she trying to telepathically talk to me? Or was she trying to read my mind? I am a speedster, our minds are very hard if not borderline impossible to read due to the Spee quantity of our thoughts. And I had speed force Aura around me, making it virtually impossible to read.
"We are the X-men. We want to help you, only if you let us." The one in lead spoke.
A visor with red glowing center covered his eyes, Cyclops. And next to him Wolverine. He was more hairy and shorter than Hugh Jackman, but he was way more jacked and ripped at the same time, saying wolverine had muscles was like saying water is liquid(amazing muscles!).
Wolverine placed a hand on Jean's shoulder subtly telling her to stop. I noticed that all of them wore a different uniform than I remembered from the movies, this uniform was a high quality black, leather jacket with a great bright yellow x across the chest and zipper. Black flexible jeans and fitting combat boots.
"Boy, I see he has sent you to indoctrinate the youth as well into your brood" Magneto said to cyclops.
"That's rich coming from you, bub." Wolverine snorted.
"You're shouldn't even be here Magneto, you're a wanted criminal" cyclops added stepping up.
"Cease your useless banter. Lad, come with us and you will know the truth. These ones will only poison your mind and twist your thoughts. But I will show you the truth" Magneto said as he floated off the ground.
Wow, is this how girls feel when two people fight to see who gets her.
My gaze alternated between both groups who looked like they were ready to have a go at each other.
Jane took a step forward and a blanket hovered over to me. "You must be feeling cold" she offered.
See, that's a considerate person.
"tch" A female with blue hair part of Magneto's crew clicked her tongue.
"Thank you" I said wrapping the blanket around my body ignoring the blue haired woman.
She smiled "You're welcome. We've got clothes inside the bird, if you need them"
It was awkward talking without clothes.
"Mr magneto I appreciate your offer, but I think I'll go with the nice people. I mean they did offer me something to wear"
I wouldn't go with magneto, I'm here to help people not to become the William Stryker of mutants, blowing shit up and what not. Plus I don't like magneto's eyes, his gaze reminds me of someone who thinks he's better than others, I've seen it before. But to give the devil credit where it's due, some of his doctrines were right.
Prof X's vision wouldn't work without some changes. We all saw how it turned out in comics, the future for mutants has never been bright. All his kumbaya teachings needed to be adapted to the new age. Let's not forget that mutants really did progress under Captain Hydra.
Cyclops nodded and smiled. As did Jean and wolverine.
"Hmm. The choice is yours lad, but remember my doors are open to you should you open your eyes to the truth" He floated away with his people.
"Ok, thanks I guess"
Cyclops walked over to shake my hand and 'welcome' me to the X-men. I don't think he's the asshole he's supposed to be yet, maybe Jean has never died in this reality.
"Do you have food? I'm sorry but I'm really starving here" I said as we walked to the jet that hovered downwards.
"Sure thing kiddo, more than you could possibly finish" wolverine said. He pulled out a Cuban cigar from his jacket and sliced the top off with his pristine deadly, sharpened claws. The claws were sharp enough to give the illusion of getting cut by just looking at them.
*BOOM? BOOM! my good people, I hope you all enjoyed it.
What I'm about to do here is make a realistic hero. A guy who actually genuinely wants to be a hero. Not the 'dancing with rainbows type', but the 'I've been through the dark and know how important the light is' type of hero.
I guess you can say I'm writing this to bring a sort of new light into my life. All my other mc's have been Grey if not outright dark.
David, was dark, but he wants to be a hope giving light to others.
P.s this chapter came out slow because I lost and my phone, and with it all the chapters I kept, and all the files, and all the stashes*why?!*
P.s.s Happy vals guys. Love is good…..
Hit the like and fave button if you enjoyed the story. We'll be moving into a comic like marvel verse with elements from the movies and cartoons. And the x men as well.
Till next time, hero out.
VICTORY*
