My bad guys, I was a bit busy yesterday. I should be back to my normal schedule now. Enjoy!
— X —
A week had passed.
Mark opened his school locker and began putting his books inside. A few letters had been slipped through the slots. William leaned against the neighboring locker, his face a mixture of envy and confusion.
"How are you not fazed by this?" William asked. "You just became the most popular kid in class. You stopped a bomber indirectly. Nobody has done anything like that except you. And I've seen a lot of girls looking at you lately. I'm sure you've already gotten some confessions."
Mark closed the locker and locked it, his expression completely unbothered. "I have more important things to do than waste time with relationships."
Mark started walking, and William fell into step beside him. "What important thing? Seriously, what's going on with you? The Mark I knew wouldn't act like this."
As they walked, a girl with white blonde hair slipped a folded piece of paper into Mark's pocket. She blew him a kiss and made a hand gesture to call her.
Mark responded with a polite smile that vanished the moment she turned away. William caught the entire performance and bristled with frustration.
"Bro, the world is so unfair. You just got a girl's number without doing anything." William's voice was thick with annoyance. "Are you actually going to call her?"
"No. I'm busy," Mark said flatly.
They passed a group of football players. A few of them nodded at Mark, and he nodded back without breaking stride.
"I'm not buying that, man," William said.
"If you can't accept it, that's not my problem." Mark smiled.
"I hate you, bro." William shook his head, wondering what secret Mark had been hiding from him.
"Yeah. I know," Mark replied.
They headed to their final class of the day and sat through the lesson until the bell finally rang. Students flooded out of the building, free to leave.
"See you later, bro," Mark said.
"Yeah," William replied. He didn't bother inviting Mark to hang out. Mark probably wouldn't come anyway. Not these days.
Mark went straight home. He was about to grab his training bag and head out when the phone rang. He picked it up.
"Who is this?" Art's voice came through the receiver.
"It's Mark."
"Good. Come to the tailor shop. Your new suit is ready," Art said.
"Really?" Mark's eyebrows rose. "I'm heading there now."
"I'll be waiting." The line clicked.
Mark left the house and made his way to Art's location. It took him only minutes to arrive. He entered through the secret door and descended into the basement. Art was waiting for him, sipping a cup of coffee.
"You finally made it." Art smiled and patted a sleek case on the table. "Here's your suit."
Mark walked over and opened the case. The suit inside was exactly as he had designed it. A grin spread across his face.
"Go try it on," Art said.
"Alright. Where can I change?"
"In the back," Art said, nodding toward a curtained area.
Mark grabbed the case and disappeared behind the curtain. Art stood waiting, coffee in hand, eager to see Mark in the custom suit he had crafted just for him.
When Mark finally stepped out, he was clad in a full black suit. The design was militaristic and tactical. Clean lines and reinforced panels gave it a sharp, imposing silhouette. A black mask covered his entire face, leaving only his eyes visible through the white lenses.
(Image Here)
"How do you like it?" Art asked, a proud grin spreading across his face.
"Ten out of ten." Mark loved the suit. It looked cool, it was comfortable, and it was not too tight at all. It was amazing. But then he asked an important question. "I can just wash it normally, right?"
"Yes, you can. Don't worry about it." Art chuckled. "It can handle space travel. A simple washing machine will not tear it apart."
"Okay. That's good to know." Mark nodded.
"So," Art said, tilting his head, "what will you be calling yourself?"
"I've been thinking about it. I'm going to go with Solid." The name was inspired by a character from his old world.
"Not bad." Art nodded approvingly. "Are you going to do some patrolling today?"
"Later tonight," Mark lied smoothly. He had no intention of doing any hero work at all. The only reason he had become one was for the opportunity to grow stronger and gain access to useful resources. He glanced back at Art and added, "Thank you for your hard work."
"No worries." Art smiled warmly. "Go do your thing then, Solid."
With that settled, Mark changed back into his normal clothes. He folded his hero suit carefully, placed it in his bag, and headed straight to the martial arts center to train like usual.
. . . .
Later, at dinner time, the Grayson family sat together at the table, eating the food Debbie had cooked. They enjoyed the meal like usual. Debbie's cooking skills never disappointed.
Mark broke the comfortable silence with an important request. He needed this to grow stronger. "Dad, can I get a beeper like yours? I already have my suit now."
"Sure." Nolan looked a bit surprised, but he didn't think much of it. "I can request one for you." Then he asked, "Since you have your costume now, what's your hero name going to be?"
"Solid," Mark answered.
"That's a good name." Debbie smiled. "Can you pass me the sauce?"
Mark handed the sauce to Debbie. "What did you do today, Mom?"
"Nothing much. Cleaned the house and met up with a friend," Debbie said.
"Oh," Mark said.
"What about you, honey? What did you do today?" Debbie asked Nolan.
"Just stopped some massive turtle from causing a flood," Nolan said casually, as if it were nothing impressive.
That was the end of the conversation. Mark stood up from his seat, having finished his food. He cleaned his plate quickly and headed upstairs. Once inside his room, he locked the door and changed into his hero suit.
"I can finally start training in space," Mark muttered to himself. His body had long since adapted to the volcano. The heat and pressure of molten rock no longer challenged him.
He slipped out through his window and flew straight up. He increased his speed, piercing through the clouds, climbing higher and higher until Earth fell away beneath him. He stopped and hovered in the void. The stars and the moon stretched out before him, endless and bright. Then he turned around to look at Earth. A smile crept across his face. It was beautiful.
Then he turned toward the bright ball of fire in the distance. The sun. He flew toward it. As he drew closer, the temperature rose sharply. But when he feels the burn and just enough pain like what he felt like with the lava in the mountain, he stop flying and start training with a grin.