January 24th, 2011
(Third Person POV)
Fury stared at the video playing on repeat, taken from nearby surveillance cameras, his face set in stone as he watched a man single-handedly stop the full force of an armored car and then subdue the robbers without breaking a sweat.
"Have we got a lead on his identity?"
Maria Hill, his second-in-command, shook her head. "Negative, sir. Eye-witness reports from the mother and child he saved describe him as a young Caucasian male, somewhere between sixteen and his early twenties, judging by his voice and the clean jawline visible beneath his hood."
"What are his abilities?"
"Super-speed, durability, strength, reflexes, and flight, from what we can tell so far, sir," Coulson answered, staring in quiet awe at the loop of the man stopping an armored truck, something that weighed as much as a tank. and holding it in place with one hand.
Just what Fury needed, another enhanced showing up in New York and making waves. This, right after the trouble in New Mexico.
God, what the hell was going on in the world?
If he wasn't already bald, he'd have grey hairs by now.
He was grateful the man had been there to stop the robbers and save civilians, but wary of what someone with that kind of power could do if they chose otherwise.
Luckily, it seemed this newest enhanced leaned toward the hero type.
"Sir, do we think this situation and the breakout in Utah could be related?" Hill asked.
Fury hummed noncommittally.
It was possible, and it would explain where someone with this level of power had been hiding for the past sixteen years.
Yet the events were so far removed from each other that drawing a connection felt like grasping at ghosts.
"It's possible."
"Your orders, sir?" Coulson asked, looking at him expectantly.
"Keep a closer eye on New York. With the amount of crime, and enhanced activity, in the city, our mystery hero is bound to show up again. Hill, with me," Fury commanded before striding out of the room, trench coat billowing behind him.
"How soon are we to receive shipments of that new Bacta product Stark put on the market?" Fury asked as he made his way toward the deck of the Helicarrier.
Hill was silent for a moment as she pulled up the data on her tablet. "Three days, tops, sir. Production only began yesterday, and we ordered ten thousand units of each product."
"Do we know how Stark found the time to work on this? I was under the impression he'd be busy solving his reactor problem."
"It wasn't Stark who created it, sir. It was…" Hill paused, tapping on her tablet before continuing.
"One Edward Tobias Blackwood. Seventeen. Moved to Queens a month ago and currently attends Midtown High School of Science and Technology."
She held out the tablet for him to take, which he did, scanning the file with growing interest.
A month in the school, and already top of his class, every subject at the AP level.
No parents. Mother died of cancer a few years prior. Father not in the picture.
Hmm… perhaps Fury would keep an eye on the boy. Potential agent material in the making. S.H.I.E.L.D. could never have too many researchers.
-
January 25th, 2011
I sat hunched over the 3D printer like I had been for the past two hours, watching as stitch by stitch of Viltrumite polymer was extruded and formed into the supersuit design I had programmed into it.
After saving the family and returning home that night, the first thing I did was have Gideon hack into the surveillance system on 44th Street and its nearby blocks to remove all traces of my presence, aside from my presence at Nelson & Murdock.
I knew there were several agencies in this world, both friendly and hostile, that would do anything to have powers like mine under their control.
The surveillance wipe wasn't perfect, and if they looked closely enough they could simply visit Nelson & Murdock and request the visitor logs, but I was hoping client confidentiality would be enough to stall them.
Then again, I was fairly certain Daredevil, aka my new lawyer, wouldn't sell me out so quickly, even if he knew I was an 'enhanced,' as those with powers were called in this world.
It wasn't that I particularly cared if my identity was exposed.
The main reasons behind having a secret identity didn't really apply to me.
I had no loved ones I cared about who could be put in danger because of me. That could change in the future, but I was hoping that by then I'd have built a reputation strong enough that people wouldn't dare try.
The only thing I'd really lose was my anonymity… and I could live with that.
The second thing I did after returning was reflect on everything that had happened.
To be honest with myself, I had enjoyed it.
It felt good to save those people. Good to see the looks of awe, respect, even reverence, when I held up an armored car with one hand.
The first time I had ever felt something like that was when I had died before.
I had lived a boring, monotonous life back then, simply waiting until I turned eighteen so I could leave the group home and go to university.
But when I saved those little children… the looks of relief on their faces when they realized someone had come back for them—
It felt good.
More fulfilling than anything I had done in my previous sixteen years of life.
It raised a simple question, why else would I have been reborn in this world with powers if not to use them?
To use them for good.
My backstory mirrored Superman's in a way, even if I came from a conquering, warlike race instead of a technologically advanced one like the Kryptonians.
The less said about Zod, the better.
Why not make up for all the pain my people had caused—one saved life at a time?
That line of thought was what finally brought me to this moment, staring at the completed supersuit mounted on a mannequin I had pilfered from a junkyard.
The design was based on Mark Grayson's final suit from the comics when he became Emperor.
There were two iterations: one with the cloak below the waist and the front flap covering the groin, and another without both of those, instead featuring a cape.
The first was an exact replica of Mark's suit. The second was my own twist on it.
At the moment, the color scheme was entirely white, though I had already bought paint that would, hopefully, set properly.
I could've gone with something brighter, and at first I had planned on either dark blue or red.
But then I ran simulations with white accented by a golden logo and belt… and I fell in love instantly. I had two capes as well, one gold and one white, though right now, I preferred the white.
It gave off a certain presence.
Regal.
Like a hero meant to be taken seriously.
Looking at myself in the mirror now, fully suited up, the cape fluttering slightly despite the lack of any wind current—
[Insert Image of Supersuit Here]
Hah. Take that, Snape.
I had made my decision.
I would try to be a hero.
To be the best hero I could be—
To be a symbol of hope for these people.
I climbed the stairs leading to the roof of my building, taking in the setting sun over the New York skyline.
My senses dulled slightly as I tuned my hearing, expanding it until I could pick up everything within a fifty-mile radius.
My neighbors arguing with each other, a dog barking five blocks down, a woman hailing a taxi in the next borough over.
Finally, I caught it, the sound of a woman calling for help, followed by the voices of five men, malicious in tone as they taunted and jeered at her.
Taking a deep breath, I made my decision and took off into the sky at full speed.
With how fast I could move, I reached the scene in less than ten seconds, hovering above the would-be attackers as they closed in on the frightened woman.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
The attackers startled, turning around and staring at the far end of the alley—only to find nothing there.
"Up here."
They all looked up, spotting me hovering above them, arms crossed over my chest.
"I'll give you one chance to surrender yourselves to the nearest precinct… or you won't like the consequences."
One of them scoffed, though they all looked a bit wary now, eyeing the muscular man in a suit hovering above them.
"Who the hell are you supposed to be!?" one of them shouted.
"Yeah! Fuck off, she's ours," another added, pulling a pistol from his belt.
I sighed. "I really wish you hadn't done that."
Before they could respond, I moved.
I dashed toward the one with the gun, grabbing him by the neck and slamming him into the wall hard enough to drop him in a limp heap.
The man closest to me barely had time to react before I kicked him, lightly, into the opposite wall, sending him flying.
Two of the remaining men found their courage and charged, one with a knife and the other swinging a baseball bat.
I caught the knife-wielder's wrist mid-thrust and redirected the blade harmlessly to the side, while the bat shattered against my arm the moment it made contact.
I had to hold back a chuckle at the dumbfounded look on his face as his weapon splintered apart.
I broke the knife-wielder's arm and knocked him out with a quick punch, then followed it up with another strike that dropped the bat-wielder just as fast.
Finally, I turned to the last assailant.
He had taken the coward's route, a knife pressed against the woman's throat as she trembled violently in his grip.
"Stop, don't move! I'll do it!" he screamed.
I walked toward him anyway, calm and unhurried, as he tried to back out of the alley.
"Not one more step or I'll carve her like a cake!" he yelled, his voice shaking just as much as his hands.
I stopped, and tilted my head slightly.
For a brief moment, the man's shaking eased—
Then he collapsed, unconscious, as I appeared behind him faster than he could even perceive.
The woman nearly fell, her legs giving out beneath her, but I caught her before she hit the ground.
"Are you alright, miss?"
She nodded frantically, tears streaming down her face, her eyes fixed on me with overwhelming gratitude.
"I'll take care of these five. Get home safely, ma'am."
Throughout the rest of the night, several known criminals were apprehended and delivered to the nearest precinct by New York's newest hero.
Three robberies were stopped, multiple fatal collisions were prevented, and even a little girl's cat was rescued from a tree.
By the next morning, New York had a new protector—
And I wasn't going to stop at just one city.