Almost Invincible! [SI-OC] 3: First steps

3: First steps

Going back to school… It wasn’t exactly what Mark had expected to do upon arriving in another world.

In fact, he’d almost completely forgotten that he had to.

He’d woken up fairly early that day; after eating until he was full, he’d slept a good seven hours and could’ve gone on, but he decided he needed to make use of his time, and so he found himself using his ‘new phone’, ready to do some research.

Thankfully, it had a fingerprint lock, or it really would’ve been a pain to figure out how to wipe it. Yes, ‘Mark’s’ memories still hadn’t come back despite a good night’s sleep, which sucked, but since there wasn’t much he could do besides complain, he decided not to think too much about it for now.

On the other hand, browsing the internet of this world revealed many interesting things.

This world was strange in many ways, not just because of the superheroes who seemed to be present in every corner of the planet.

Looking at its maps was like examining a clone of Earth, but a flawed one, or rather, an altered one. There were cities, states, and countries that shouldn’t exist and others that no longer did, scattered across the globe as if someone had put together a puzzle and, instead of fitting the pieces where they belonged, had simply placed them wherever they wanted.

Luckily, on a broad level, the United States remained more or less intact. More or less, because it was certainly different, but still familiar enough that it didn’t feel completely alien.

‘I guess having supervillains, monsters, and kaiju attacking every weekend makes it impossible to keep a stable map,’ he thought at the time.

At least the economy seemed to be doing well despite everything, but he couldn’t look into it as much as he would’ve liked, because that was when Debbie’s shout interrupted him, reminding him that he was running late for school.

Late for school...

When he heard that for the first time, he almost burst out laughing, but when, just a few minutes later, Debbie barged into his room with a less-than-pleased expression, asking why he still wasn’t ready, the smile vanished.

And now he was here, a backpack slung over his shoulder, walking down one of the high school hallways, watching dozens upon dozens of other unfortunate souls pass by who, like him, were forced to attend this infernal place.

And, as if that weren’t enough, he’d even run into the classic high school teen drama situation.

“What’s wrong, asshole? Are you waiting for your little girlfriend to show up and save your ass again?”

So many things were different, but if there was one thing he could still rely on, whether in his world or this one, it was that humans would always act like humans.

And idiots would keep being idiots.

“Are you deaf or something?!”

What was this guy’s name again? Ted? Tod? He wasn’t sure if it was the same one, but he remembered a bully from the first episode of the series. He assumed it was him, but he couldn’t say for certain since, well… he was seeing him in the flesh and not as a 2D drawing.

Unlike the important characters, the extras didn’t have designs striking enough to be easily recognizable when brought into reality.

Besides, wasn’t this supposed to have happened yesterday? Thanks to some of the comments his ‘father’ had made while beating him up, he learned that ‘Mark’ had only just gotten his powers; more precisely, the night before last. That led him to assume that his arrival in this world had coincidentally occurred during that first father-and-son training session seen in the first episode.

And unlike what happened in the series, where ‘Mark’ had gone back home early, annoyed at having been hit just a little too hard, and ended up going to school; he, on the other hand, had trained with Nolan until nightfall, completely skipping classes.

He thought that would mean he’d miss this encounter, but…

His internal musings were interrupted when the bully, fed up with being ignored, stepped forward aggressively and tried to grab him by the collar.

The key word was ‘tried’. Mark didn’t even make a big move; he simply stepped to the side, casually dodging the grab, and then, too fast for anyone to notice, slipped his foot into the guy’s path before shoving him aside just as quickly.

The result was the bully slamming face-first into the ground with a loud crash.

“Ouch!” someone exclaimed.

The students passing by stopped when they noticed the spectacle. The bully rubbed his face with a pained grimace, still kneeling on the floor.

“You should be more careful where you walk, buddy; the floor’s slippery,” Mark said without even turning to look at him, letting his body instinctively guide him toward his locker.

“Shit, Mark! How did you do that?!”

Someone asked in amazement… Wilhem? William? Whatever his name was. He actually did remember him, even though his appearance wasn’t particularly striking either. Well, actually, he recognized him because he’d stuck to him ever since he arrived at the school entrance, talking to him about all kinds of things, the way friends would.

“I didn’t do anything, Will-man, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied while frowning at the combination lock on his locker.

“Will-man?” The boy raised an eyebrow at the new nickname, but didn’t pay it much attention, since he was still looking toward where the bully was.

"Alright, whether you did something or not, Todd doesn’t look very happy. I think we should get out of here before his head stops spinning."

Mark smiled when he heard the click of the lock opening. It wasn’t that he remembered the combination, but guessing it wasn’t very hard either; it only took him three tries.

Luckily, his school schedule was neatly saved on his phone, so he just had to put away the things he wouldn’t need and take out the ones he would before closing it again and looking at Will.

"You’re right, let’s get out of here."

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The time between classes passed in a blur. It’s not like there was anything interesting aside from geography and history, subjects he did pay attention to, but for the most part his mind was focused on something else.

If that Todd guy had bothered him today, did that mean the shooting where the rock-skinned guy showed up was also going to happen? He had assumed he’d missed that chance to face him as well, but maybe that wasn’t the case.

Wanting to verify it, and with no intention of attending the next class, he left the school and set off. He returned home in a hurry and started looking for something he could use as a provisional disguise. In the end, he ended up with something quite similar to what ‘Mark’ had originally worn, only with less flashy colors, with blue and gray being the ones he wore the most.

Now, where exactly had that bank robbery taken place? It had to be nearby, or at least that was what he hoped, and it had to be in a big city, given the tall buildings he remembered seeing in the scene.

‘If I more or less recognize these views… I think,’ he thought as he landed on top of a building near a bank. Was that the bank? Probably not.

‘New problem detected, I have no fucking idea about the geographic locations of most of the events I remember, not even their dates or times, that… could complicate things.’

The show hadn’t been especially detailed when it came to those matters. Sure, the passage of time was mentioned now and then, but there was nothing like a convenient calendar to follow.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

The sound of gunfire reaching his ears from the distance made him immediately leap into the air, rising and propelling himself rapidly toward the direction it was coming from.

‘I found you!’ he thought with a smile when he spotted that strange yet familiar figure covered in gray, rocky skin.

It’s not like the guy was important or anything; he could’ve let him go. He’d already seen him and, in a manner of speaking, had already verified the ‘timeline’ thanks to that, so what happened to him from now on wasn’t his problem, right?

Even so, he dove toward him, weaving through the buildings until he reached the back alley where he was. The man noticed him, but far too late to react.

Crack!!!

His fist smashed squarely into his jaw, easily shattering and cracking the protective layer of stone that covered it.

“ARGH!” the man growled as he sailed through the air without control, ultimately crashing into a dumpster, its metal caving in from the impact.

Mark landed deftly a few meters away from him, staring at his fist with a frown.

‘Just like I thought, I can barely hold back.’

If there was one reason he’d decided to fight the bargain-bin version of the Thing, it was this: his lack of experience controlling his new strength.

His fight with Nolan didn’t count. There, measuring his blows was the wrong choice, because even if he gave it his all, it wasn't enough.

But against opponents who weren’t Omni-Man? That required a different approach, one of restraint, or else he could end up killing someone by accident.

And this guy in front of him was a good test. He wasn’t very strong or fast, but from what he’d seen in the show, he could certainly take a hit, at least the hits from a Mark who, like him, was still getting used to his new strength.

Besides, having a target to vent a little on after getting beaten senseless all day yesterday wasn’t so bad either.

“Who the hell are you?” the guy roared, angrily pulling himself out of the pile of trash and steel he’d crashed into.

"Your friendly—and spectacularly handsome—new neighbor! Spider... Nah, just kidding. For you, today I'm Kick-Ass," he said, pointing at his chest with his thumb.

It’s not that he didn’t plan to use the code name he was, in a way, ‘destined’ for, even if for a moment he seriously considered picking another one; in the end, he decided there was no need. It’s not like he could come up with a better one anyway.

It just wasn’t the right time yet.

“Kick-Ass? How childish. Try something better, like pajama boy,” the criminal mocked, cracking his neck audibly.

“Well, buddy, this pajama boy is going to kick your rocky ass, so clench those teeth tight!”

There was no need for more words. With a powerful roar, the man charged at him, his footsteps cracking the ground.

Mark didn’t rush. He watched him approach while analyzing him. He was fast for someone of his size and build, but still far too slow for his super senses. From his perspective, it was like watching a turtle move.

How had the original Mark ever gotten hit by someone like this?

Finally, his opponent got close enough to try to land a powerful punch to the face, a punch Mark dodged with barely any effort, immediately counterattacking with a blow to the liver that, on impact, lifted the man off the ground, almost sending him flying.

“Ugh!” he grunted as he hit the ground, hunched over.

“Come on, man, I know I wanted a punching bag, but at least make it entertaining,” Mark mocked as he shook the bits of stone off his fist.

“Shit! Shut your damn mouth, you fucking brat!” 

His beautiful motivational words seemed to do the trick, because his new rocky friend got back on his feet with more energy than before and threw himself back into the fray.

Dozens of punches, elbows, even the occasional kick. Titan tried everything to land at least one damn hit on the would-be hero who had interrupted his job, but nothing worked. He dodged every attack as if he were reading his mind and, as a result, though fewer in number, the counterattacks came.

Titan couldn’t remember ever being hit that hard before. The first punch, the one that caught him by surprise when he arrived, nearly knocked him out on the spot. The second, straight to the liver, made him throw up a bit of his lunch, but because of the rocky protection on his face he had to swallow it back down.

The ones that followed weren’t any better, at least at first, but little by little he noticed something. It was as if they were getting weaker, more bearable. If before they’d been like cannon blasts, now they felt like simple gunshots.

‘Is he getting tired?’ he thought, a smile forming on his face. He’d figured it out, his powers were probably the kind that started strong but ran out of gas quickly. He was still fast, no doubt, but with his strength dropping at that pace, he felt like he’d soon be able to smash his damn face in.

Or at least that’s what he thought, until his fist was caught in an iron grip.

“That’s enough. Thanks for the help, buddy, but I think I’ve got it now,” he said, and Titan didn’t understand what he meant, nor would he, because in the next moment his vision went dark and a dull pain flooded his temple for a brief instant before everything went out and he fell unconscious.

Mark looked at the guy lying on the ground with a certain satisfaction. It had been good sparring. Of course, this didn’t give him perfect control over his strength, not by a long shot, but it did help him learn to manage it to a certain extent. Now he had a better idea of how to keep moderating it, and with time, he would undoubtedly reach the level where he could control it perfectly.

“That was interesting,” the new voice interrupted his thoughts. With a start, Mark straightened automatically, tensing every muscle.

Turning toward the sky, he saw the figure of his ‘father’ descending toward him, an expression somewhere between curiosity and confusion adorning his face.

“I didn’t think you were so talkative, but that’s fine, against opponents this insignificant there’s no need for you to be too serious,” he said casually, barely hiding the disdain in his tone.

Then he looked him up and down and raised an eyebrow.

“I’m glad to see you taking the initiative in your training, son, but you still need proper equipment for this and not… whatever it is you’re wearing.”

“That was the best I could get,” Mark said, trying to relax. Even though he’d already expected to run into him here, his arrival still made him nervous.

Since when had he been watching him? Had he run into him by chance, or at some point between leaving school and heading back home had he started following him?

No, he was overthinking it. He was probably near the city when the shots rang out and, like the ‘hero’ he was supposed to be, came over to check out the situation.

At least, that’s what he hoped.

“Well, let’s see if we can get you something much better, follow me.” After saying that, Nolan didn’t wait for a response, turned around, and started flying.

“This… shouldn’t we call the police first or something?” he thought, but didn’t say it out loud. Instead, he cast one last glance at the rocky guy before shrugging and taking flight as well.

‘Side mission ‘beat the bank robber’s ass’ completed. Main mission ‘get a super suit’ in progress.’

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“My name is Art Rosenbaum, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, son, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

The older man said, taking his hand, and Mark nodded politely.

“I hope only good things.”

“Mostly,” Nolan added with a knowing smile, which Art returned.

“I think I can already guess why we’re here,” Mark commented, looking at the supersuits on the mannequins behind the display cases with a critical eye.

In the show, their designs looked pretty… bland, to put it politely, but when brought into reality they looked better than he had expected.

“That’s right, the time has come. Mark is ready, more than ready,” Nolan said to Art, and the man’s eyes widened slightly at how confident his old friend sounded.

“If that’s the case, I’ll be more than happy to help. Tell me, son, do you already have something in mind?” he asked, turning toward Mark, who nodded confidently in response.

“Of course. I’ve been waiting for this since I was a kid. I know what I want, just give me a sheet of paper and a pencil and I’ll show you.”

“They’re all yours,” Art agreed, stepping aside and pointing to his worktable, where he had everything needed to design and conceptualize super suits.

Mark didn’t waste any time. He might not have had many special skills to brag about in his previous life, but if he were allowed to be a little boastful, then he would definitely say he was quite decent at illustrating.

Using a dose of a Viltrumite’s natural speed, he sped up the process and, as he sketched, he thought about one of the spoilers he’d seen from the show, specifically the image of Mark wearing a dark blue suit.

‘Blue and black are cool, but it needs something more… how about silver?’ he thought, deciding to partially use the design of the first suit, but swapping out those horrible kneepads for simpler ones and replacing the yellow with silver, as well as changing the insect-like goggles of the mask for something closer to the eyes of a Batman-style domino mask.

Luckily, Art had plenty of markers, so he was able to color the design without any trouble and, in just under four minutes, it was finished.

“This is what I’m looking for.”

Taking the sheet, he handed it to Art, who held it while admiring the work with raised eyebrows, clearly surprised by how well done the design was.

“You didn’t tell me your son had this much talent,” Art said, and Nolan stepped closer to look at the drawing as well, his expression also one of puzzlement.

“Why the ‘i’?” As expected from the man who had designed the original concept of the suit, it only took him a glance to notice the symbol that many fans tended to overlook.

“I thought it needed to be iconic, and besides, it goes with the name.”

“The name?” Nolan asked, this time far more curious.

Mark smiled mysteriously, making both men exchange a questioning look.

“Because from now on I’ll be Inv-!”

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Note:

I’m pretty sure I wanted to say something in this note, but while I was working on editing the chapter I forgot lol. Well, if I remember it I’ll mention it in the next one, if not then oh well.