Despite the dramatic reveals of Omni-Man's true purpose for being on Earth and the truth of the Viltrumite empire, not changed in the broad scheme of things. It was nice to know that our enemy had relatively limited numbers. The fact that our capacity to take advantage of it was minimal really curtailed how excited Cecil was by the news, though.
Sharing the information with the Coalition of Planets, no matter how uncomfortable Nolan obviously was with the idea, seemed the right way to go. Though the same couldn't be said about how much information we ought to give. Nolan stressed that we ought to keep human compatibility with Viltrumite DNA under wraps, and, as much as Cecil or I might have grimaced at the source of the advice, both of us felt like it was too sensible to ignore.
The Coalition of Planets covered a number of sapients and worlds that made even my head dizzy. To put up a fight against the Viltrumite empire, and how large Nolan had described it to be meant it had to be simply enormous. Giving up one world to functionally prevent Viltrumites from breeding a new army within a generation to reclaim all of their galactic ambitions…
Only an inept leader, at least when talking on that scale, would baulk at pressing the metaphorical red button.
If there was anything that came haltingly, like pulling teeth from the imprisoned Viltrumite, it was the fact that his books were filled with the weaknesses of his own species. That Nolan had been in charge of the program to systematically eliminate any known threats, by any means necessary, and then had the gall to put them into a book was incredible. Much like the information about numbers of Viltrumites, we'd have to pass it on the next time Allen came through our cosmic neighborhood.
Cecil did seem soothed, to a degree, by the news that threats to the Viltrumites existed. That they were not unkillable monsters but very much entities that could be stopped through technology. I was under no reservations in my belief that while he appreciated my assistance, he didn't want to rely on it forever, which was fair. Judging by the sheer number of research projects going on at any GDA facilities that I flew by, I wasn't that surprised either. Nor could I judge him for the efforts to maintain global security.
As long as no one got too antsy or twitchy with the countermeasures the first time I got a little squirrely, things would be okay.
Once Nolan had been pumped for information, Cecil and I left so that Mark could talk to his father. Knowing that he was, at least in part, meant to be a breeding experiment was obviously messing with the kid. It was better to let him and his father hash out that conversation by themselves.
Besides, it gave me and Cecil the moment to talk on our lonesome.
"Was he actually on the level for all of that?"
The balding man gave me a slow, begrudging nod, all of the worn lines on his face having seemed a little tighter in that moment. "We've had him in captivity for a while now. Every conversation he's had with Mark, myself, or his wife has been subjected to the best kind of sensors money could buy."
Gesturing back at the vault-like door of his cell, Cecil continued. "Even when he first came to this planet, we had good enough readings to tell he was full of bullshit. Now, we're the foremost experts, sifting through his reactions. As far as my people can tell me, he was legit."
Going through everything that the man had said, only one part of it was enough to really make me blink. "Nolan and Debbie are still married? After everything he did…"
"They're going through what we'll generously call a rough patch, but yes."
"I can imagine," I admitted, snorting at the thought. "Anyway, if he's telling the truth, I guess those are more things we can use to try and prepare." Somehow. Maybe.
Was I about to go into space? I fucking loved reading Cosmic Marvel stories, and while the Guardians of the Globe were cool, I could make the Guardians of the Galaxy an actual team and nobody would know I was committing copyright infringement. Despite my willingness and excitement for it, though, I wasn't so eager to leave Earth without defenders to pick up my slack.
"Provided the Coalition doesn't pat us on the back and then take the knowledge without reward."
That got a shrug out of me at the thought. "If they try to, make it clear you'll restrain all of the information that Nolan's given us in exchange for technological uplift packages. Then again, I don't get the feeling that's how they operate."
From what Allen had told me, the original purpose for why they were even on Earth in the first place was part of an evaluation program. Ensuring that the individual worlds had defenders, whether that be specific champions like myself, Mark, or Omni-Man, who were strong enough to fend off pirates, world-conquerors, and theoretically the odd Viltrumite. In practice, that last one was usually enough to sunder any sort of resistance, but they could dream.
This exemption did come with a lot of benefits. Chiefly in the fact that the specific member states were freed from higher tax burdens that came from needing protection in the first place. No one was forced to join, but as Earth and many other planets had learned, space was not safe. It paid to have a lot of friends when you needed them. Membership would come with certain packages of technologies, which were supposedly on their way. We hadn't heard from Allen in a while, though, since he'd left. And our own capacity to go out into the black and investigate was minimal.
Nothing to do but hope and pray, I guess.
"How's the training going with the boys?" Cecil asked, breaking me from my thoughts.
It took me a moment to parse what he meant, as my eyebrows furrowed together. "Rudy's like, thirty."
"Yeah, but he's a cloistered academic. That takes ten years off. It's not the mileage, but how you handle those miles that covers maturity."
"... Yeah, alright, fair," I conceded, thinking of Rudy's behavior in that moment. For all that he had a ginormous brain, he could also be pretty inexperienced about certain things. Like women. Poor guy was about to be eaten alive by Kate, and he didn't have any idea.
"Mark's getting faster and stronger, if slowly, though I think in his actual capacity to fight with any technique, that's where he's making the most ground."
Combat in a three-dimensional space, making your own leverage, and taking advantage of your superhuman statistics was not easy. It didn't always come naturally to people, and while Nolan would have likely taught him the Viltrumite equivalent of martial arts, the guy couldn't do that for obvious reasons. Which left me to try and hammer some taijutsu into him.
"I think he's improving, and the Mark of today would beat the Mark of a few months ago like a rented drum," I admitted, as I sucked in a breath for the other part of the statement. "... But it won't be enough if he's got to face someone as strong as Nolan. Or stronger."
What was left unsaid was the other observation I'd made, about how he'd always seemed to grow stronger right after getting the stuffing beaten out of him. It seemed obvious in hindsight, almost like some kind of zenkai boost. The reason I kept it to myself was that it also appeared like the sort of trait that was dangerous to abuse.
"And Rudy?" Cecil followed up, arms crossed and the slightest hint of tension entering his posture.
While I had no doubt that Rudy would enter Cecil's good graces again, he'd been Cecil's golden child at one point. Someone that he'd trusted enough to lead the defense of the planet, the premier superhero team. Now, betraying that on some level just so he could get himself a new body had worn a little of that varnish off. The fact that he was still in charge of the team at all was impressive, and only our successes likely kept that the case.
The question of my true pupil still made me straighten up, as I smiled broadly. "Outstanding! He's picking up as much as I can throw at him as fast as I can do so."
"So he's nearing your level of strength."
That made my smile twitch as I glanced away. "Not… quite," I conceded. "Rudy is exemplary at the theorycrafting of chakra-derived techniques. Elemental release, the manipulation and control parts of the discipline, all of the things that require a big, beefy brain, he's good at."
Cecil could automatically see where I was heading with my words. He was smart like that. "He's struggling with the other aspects, though."
"Rudy thinks too much. It's one of his greatest strengths and his greatest weaknesses. He still flinches sometimes when in the middle of an actual, physical fight, too," I added. "Some of that probably comes from being in a tank for all his life. All the sort of instincts you or I developed when we were children aren't ingrained in him. In a lot of respects it's actually quite nice to be working with a blank slate like that. No bad habits I need to work out of him."
"I can see that," the director agreed. "As long as you're making progress with the two of them, I can't be that upset with the matter. I'd rather progress be quicker, but between them, Sinclair's works, and other projects in the works, we're not as defenseless as we used to be."
"I'll have to take your word for it."
"For now, keep up the good work. And keep your schedule open for more press appearances."
A groan escaped me at the notion. "C'mon, can't you get someone else? Maybe Rudy! We can throw him to the press junket! Put him on that hot wings show on the internet."
The mention of it seemed to invite a speculative glint in his eye. "... That's actually not a bad idea, Genji. I'll think about it. Unfortunately, work never stops. Stay frosty, kid." With nary another word, Cecil vanished in a flash of light, leaving me alone in the hallway once more.
Not for that long though, as the door opened, allowing Mark to exit into the hallway. Compared to Cecil's cool demeanor, it wasn't that hard to tell that Mark was out of sorts. He was at the age where that sort of thing proved easy to read. And while he wasn't the same inheritor of my techniques that I considered Rudy, that didn't mean he was any less my student in the ways that mattered.
My clones could handle training on their own for a little while longer. It'd only take me a few minutes to figure out what was going on with him.
"Wanna talk about whatever's on your mind?" I asked as he picked up his head from looking at his feet and glanced my way.
Those dark lenses might as well have been useless when it came to hiding the truth of his tumultuous emotions from me. They roiled across his mind and face alike, the red hues of anger, yellow tinges of fear, and other colors besides. He looked at me, in that moment seeming every bit of his seventeen years.
"Yeah," Mark spoke, his voice sounding a little choked. "Maybe. I don't know, it's all so…"
"Confusing?"
"Confusing doesn't even begin to describe it," the boy shot back, heat in his voice but not real anger. Not at me.
"C'mon," I urged him, opening up a portal and floating toward it. "Let's go flying. That always helps me clear my mind."
Standing there for a few seconds, he gave me a begrudging nod, shoulders dropping a little. "Me too," Mark admitted, as the two of us headed through the portal.
We were somewhere over the Atlantic, with the gigantic expanse of water that was resting beneath us and stretching over the horizon. A soothing, mostly empty space, where he could at the very least not be overstimulated as we hovered above the clouds.
"You don't have to tell me what you and your dad talked about," I assured him. "You just looked like you needed a distraction."
"I don't know what I need," he said, the hint of a hollow, humorous tone in his voice putting lie to whatever levity Mark was trying to inject into the situation. "Who do I talk to about this? My girlfriend? She's not a superhero; she doesn't… always get it, y'know? I've got only so many friends, but this is so—"
"Fucked up," I supplied.
"Beyond fucked up," he spoke, hands working back and forth, as if to burn off some of the frenetic energy inside of him with nowhere to go.
"I'm not the perfect picture of mental health, but have you actually thought about taking the time to speak with a mental health professional?"
For myself, I didn't think I was ready to even begin untangling the clusterfuck of my mind. There were aspects of my personality that likely baffled the analysts of the GDA because they were wound so tightly together with the alien I'd fused with. When it came to other people with less fraught circumstances, I suspected they'd get more mileage.
The defense that Mark threw my way wasn't what I'd been expecting, out of anything that came out of his mouth.
"When would I have the time? I'm barely managing to make it to my freshman classes as is," he pointed out.
"Wait, wait, wait," I held up my hands, forming a timeout symbol, confusion writ large across my features. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"... My college classes?"
"YOU'RE IN COLLEGE?!" I exclaimed, making Mark stagger back. "For what goddamn reason?"
"So that I can make a living, or, or, have a normal life!"
"Mark, at the very least you're going to live for thousands of years. I don't want to make it seem like there's nothing admirable about the way the current predominant human culture goes about things, but trying to model the modern route of college in your circumstanceswould be beyond insane. You've got so many ways to make money that it's not even funny. You could go get massive meteorites and asteroids or other celestial objects stuffed to the brim with rare metals and make boatloadsof money. The GDA already pays me millions just to be on-call as a member of the Guardians."
Just off the top of my head, I could think of tons of ways for him to genuinely make an absurd living with relative ease. There were all sorts of careers that, when applied to his powerset, would be happy to use them in such a fashion. Something like saturation diving, for example, could literally be an odd job for him, and he'd make stupid amounts of money.
College was good for specific things and specific goals. If you were just going for the sake of cultural inertia and because it was the thing people thought you were meant to do, I couldn't see it being a smart idea. Especially when every hour he spent in class, or doing homework, could be spent doing literally anything else more important or fulfilling.
"But college is important!" He protested.
His words got a very doubtful eyebrow raise from me. "Is it important to you or your mother? Like, talking to me straight, do you actually enjoy academia? I like researching things related to my interest, but if you're not someone who enjoys school or the process of education or actually learning stuff, I don't think it'd be good for you in the long run."
At those words Mark could only go quiet. I didn't know if I actually got through to him or if he was just shocked. All I knew was that my own personal feelings on the matter were pretty simple. Then again, I might have browbeaten him too much, as we'd gotten way off of the stuff that I had wanted to talk to him about.
"I went too far," I admitted, rubbing the back of my head sheepishly. "Sorry about that."
"Weirdly, it helped," Mark said, giving me a nervous smile of his own. "It came so out of left field that I'm not even thinking about my dad anymore."
"Mission accomplished, then."
That got a laugh out of him, as he gave a great, deep exhale. The kind that came from someone genuinely tired but still trying to power through it. "I appreciate it, honestly. My girlfriend and my best friend are in college, so it seemed like the natural thing to do, but really…"
"You wanted to be close to them," I pointed out. "There's nothing wrong with that. Considering you can fly around the globe in minutes, though, I can't see it being that big of a hassle if you drop out or not. And if nothing else, just give it to the end of the semester to decide."
"I will," he nodded. "Thanks, Taijitu. You're weirdly wise about this sort of thing."
"What, did you think this outfit was just for show?" I smirked, gesturing down at my monk-adjacent garb. Waving a hand, another black portal manifested. "That goes back to Chicago, if you want a quick route."
"I appreciate it," Mark said, giving me a final nod before he flew through.
He was a good kid, and for all of the personal enmity that I bore for his father, I didn't have it for him. Maybe I had it out for him a teensy, tiny bit for giving me the idea that superheroes didn't kill on this world, but he did his best and tried to live up to the expectations people had for a superhero.
Sometimes all you could do was exactly that.
As long as he kept that attitude up, Mark would always have an ally in me.
But with that done, it was, as ever, time to get back to the grind of training and superheroism.
I'd admit, there were some members of the Guardians of the Globe who I hadn't quite gotten the time to chat with that much. One of them was Bulletproof, and while he was certainly a dedicated and polite hero, I did feel like I didn't have much of a read on him yet. Part of that, eventually, would probably come with time and proximity, like it had for the rest of the members of the team.
In the beginning I hadn't thought of Rae or Amanda as particularly close to me. Now, I actually considered them friends and made real efforts to try and hang out as time allotted. If there was one person I well and truly didn't know all that well, it'd be The Immortal. My interactions with him were exacting and polite, but it did feel as if there was a remove between us.
Sometimes there wasn't anything else to do but sit down and try to hash out your differences. So, one day, out of the blue, I approached him when one of our lunchtime exercises came to a close.
"Hey, Immortal," I greeted as the man peeled off from the rest of the group. "You free?"
"I am," he asked, seeming a little surprised I was approaching him. "Why?"
"Figured I'd offer to treat you to lunch or something over in Chicago. Unless you don't need to eat that much or something." I wasn't entirely sure what the deal was with his powers or how they differed from other flying bricks in the world.
Outside of being old as dirt and apparently Abraham Lincoln, I didn't know much about him at all. Something that I was hoping to change through just good-natured interest in his person.
"That seems… acceptable," Immortal nodded.
"Great!" I beamed, shooting him a smile. "Let's take a shortcut."
Creating a portal, he gave it a brief look of scrutiny before flying through it. Something I'd always noticed was that he always seemed to be wary of my powers. Though as to why, I didn't quite know. Maybe he just didn't warm to new people all that quickly.
Still, we found ourselves in the familiar Chicago skyline in an instant, floating above the city. "Where precisely did you intend on taking me?"
"One moment. Allow me to see if the stand is still there."
The first time I'd come to this city, someone had given me a hotdog for free and welcomed me to the planet. While Chicago might not have been the friendliest or most welcoming city on the planet, that little introduction had never faded from me. It was the milk of human kindness, and I intended on seeing it rewarded tenfold.
Briefly, I'd wondered and worried if the hotdog vendor in question had been caught up in the Chicago Incident. That wasn't a concern that was unfounded, seeing as how much damage Nolan had done in his 'fight' with Mark. Those wounds were healing, yet the scars and vestiges of the damage remained.
It only took a quick search to put those worries at ease, as the Immortal and I landed a distance away from the stand.
"Is this where you intended to take me?" Immortal asked, genuinely surprised. "It's quite humble."
"It's the best hotdog stand in the city, so yeah," I nodded. "This guy gave me one for free when I arrived, and it was the first thing that I'd ever eaten on this planet. Repaying this kindness by overpaying and giving him the free publicity of two members of the Guardians of the Globe visiting is the least I can do to repay him."
I didn't know why, but something in his eyes softened when I said those words. "Let's carry on, then. This citizen deserves to have his fifteen minutes of fame."
The two of us drew eyes, because it wasn't every day that the Guardians of the Globe walked around like normal people. Then again, we were also eye-catching for all sorts of reasons. My looks and alien appearance, for one, and in the case of Immortal, by him being absolutely huge and jacked. He looked like someone took a barbarian and threw them into a superhero costume.
… Which was admittedly closer to the case when I thought about how old he supposedly was.
The man manning the small cart was the same one from all those months ago, who seemed positively gobsmacked at our approach. I couldn't help but give him a smile. "Hey there! I think I promised to actually return as a paying customer, didn't I?"
"T-Taijitu!" He exclaimed, blinking blearily. "No, no, you've done so much for this city, I couldn't possibly—"
"I insist," I urged, before jerking a thumb back at Immortal. "Besides, I'm here to treat this guy. Can't exactly bum free food while you're trying to do something nice for someone else." Maybe you could, but I'd been trying to be less of a penny-pincher in this new life of mine.
"You better plan to open your wallet," Immortal teased, playing into more of a friendly, public-facing mien at that moment. "I'm hungry."
"You hear the man?" I asked, glancing back at the proprietor. "He's hungry. So, I'll take a…"
It didn't take us very long at all to get our hotdogs. However, all of the phones that'd been turned our way, or passersby that were not trying to get meals of their own, would probably bolster the man's sales for a time. I wouldn't be surprised if he ended up getting interviewed about the experience, seeing as to how voracious the public was for superhero news.
Neither of us had much drive to sit in the public eye, though, when we were eating our meal. So we flew a ways away to find ourselves somewhere private to eat. Perched on the edge of a skyscraper, we began eating our hotdogs in a silence that was a touch uncomfortable. Neither of us quite knew how to keep a conversation going with the other, not yet. If no one said anything, though, this uncomfortable air between the two of us was likely to persist.
Eventually, I figured it'd be up to me to do the heavy lifting here. "How's the hotdog?"
"It's good," he nodded. "I'm not sure if it's the best I've ever had, but the place I remember probably doesn't exist anymore."
"You'd be surprised."
"It was back in the seventies, when New York was at its worst. Back when they called it Fear City," he explained, shaking his head at the notion. "The owner was a real sweetheart. Got caught in some mob business gone wrong, but before that, he was a real master at his work. Had deals with certain people specifically; it was a whole thing."
A thoughtful hum escaped me. "Sounds like a loss for the New York culinary scene."
He shrugged, something wistful entering into his gaze. "That's how it goes. You're still young. The way the ages change and pass you by, it hasn't hit you yet. One day you're fighting alongside allies you've known for decades, centuries in some cases. The next, you're blinking and you're alongside a bunch of…" Immortal trailed off, unsure of what to say, as his face pinched at what was left unsaid. "That wasn't kind of me. My apologies. Comparison is the thief of joy."
"It's fine," I assured him.
"It isn't. The original Guardians were as much my family as my comrades in arms. War Woman I'd fought alongside for ceturies, the same with Aquarus. The past Green Ghosts had been allies of mine at different points in history, too. The whole experience has left me… bitter. Angry," Immortal conceded, trying not to let whatever fury was inside of him rule him as he finished what was left of his food with forceful bites. "Unreasonably so."
"Is that why you've been keeping everyone at a remove? Not to feel the same pain."
He looked away. "... No, just you."
I blinked. "Pardon me?"
"You're an alien that came out of nowhere who espouses the same humanitarian ideas that Nolan used to," he continued, shooting me an arched eyebrow. "But I'm starting to realize you're not much like Nolan at all."
"There was always an arrogance to him. I mean, you can show it off too, but you're also constantly working to try and share your techniques, technology, and the works," Immortal pointed out. "Nolan never once offered the same to Earth. Maybe that should have been a sign on some level, that we should have seen his real intentions coming, way back when."
True. Nolan had originally come to Earth under the lie of meaning to better the planet. At no point did he actually share any of the technology that Viltrum presumably had with them to eliminate hunger, energy crises, or things of that nature. In hindsight, his goals were clearer, but everyone had wanted to believe in him because he was doing the work.
The similarities between Nolan and I existed. As much as it galled me, I wasn't so clueless that I couldn't see them.
"I'd like to think that I have much bigger objectives than conquering this world. Or destroying it. Sounds like a lot of work for no real gain."
"Such as…?" Immortal tried to make it sound like an innocent question, but I could tell he had too much interest in it to feign real nonchalance.
"I'd like to finish all of the past runs of Seance Dog. I think they had Rick Remender do this like an alternative take on it in the 2010s, which is inspired by the original old-timey comics but taken to a more realistic extent. Also, I think I'd like to pick up instruments again. Maybe something really goofy, like the clarinet. See what having a girlfriend is like. That could be fun."
He seemed entirely, totally off-kilter by my answers, as confused as I was. "That's just so pedestrian!"
"Yeah, and?" I asked, giving him my own confused looks. "I want to save the world, protect it, and further my own studies of chakra. All of those were a given; I'd be doing those things regardless. But I'd like to actually enjoy life while I can, rather than focus on nothing but the mindless accrual to no real purpose."
Immortal was quiet, looking at me curiously. "You're a strange one, Genji."
"Is that so bad?"
"Actually, no. In some ways, you remind me more of Martian Man than Nolan. With that interest in Earth, the culture, our planet…" He looked increasingly wistful. "I don't know how I could have ever thought you were like Nolan."
"It's fine. Let's just start over, eh?" I offered, pushing a hand forward for a shake. "I'll be alive at least for the next few centuries, so we've got the benefit of time to plaster over any mistakes we've made."
Looking at my hand, Immortal gave me a nod and a smile as he took it and gave me a firm shake. "Agreed."
"Now, I had some training plans for Rudy and Mark, but I actually needed an 'antagonist' for some of them closer to their power. You willing to help out there?"
"We should probably rope in Bulletproof too. He might not be as strong as them, but there's still room for improvement with him."
"You're incredibly correct. Let's get back to base and see what we can cook up." Perhaps Bulletproof and I could bond over traumatizing Mark and Rudy with our brutal training regimens.
It was funny. Originally I was worried that I wouldn't find a route to connect with the Immortal, yet apparently that was for naught! The pleasure mentors could take in the pain, suffering, and growth of those beneath their tutelage was boundless.
I had the feeling this was the beginning of a long and beautiful friendship.
Sometimes I liked to wonder why Cecil didn't take the notion of me being an interdimensional alien all that oddly, or at least didn't balk at the concept. Then again, at the time I wasn't familiar with how insane the day-to-day life of a superhero universe could be. He must have been pleased that I wasn't here to try and conquer the world again and was willing to help.
The guy was probably the most utilitarian and reasonable individual I'd ever met. Within certain boundaries, that was. If I ever posed a credible threat to global security, there were probably countermeasures prepared for me that I couldn't even conceive of. It was his job to think of the worst-case scenarios, like the Pentagon plans for zombie apocalypses and stuff. The fact that he still extended any measure of trust with the things he knew and had seen…
It was admirable.
Despite how much work I'd done in trying to give interdimensional alien visitors a good name, though, it seemed as if there were always going to be assholes with the intention of pushing the envelop. Poking the sleeping bear, as it were.
Most of the infrastructure that had been designed to give us forewarning about the Flaxan invasions had been what alerted the GDA and Guardians of this new threat. It was really paying for itself, it seemed, and I suspected Rudy had some generous patents and royalty profits coming in his future, as we found ourselves in the middle of a Nevada desert.
Out of a malevolent, molten portal of red energy, marched forward through. Many of them seemed to be made out of humanoids, of indiscernible races and skin tones, given how much of their bodies were conjoined with all manner of machinery and cybernetics. Servitors, for how much they appeared to actually care about the losses that they were taking, as the arrayed superheroes gathered from across the country and beyond engaged them in the desert sands.
Or perhaps it was the massive, hulking figure bringing up the rear that urged them on further.
"YOU WILL ALL KNEEL BEFORE THE MIGHT OF OMNIPOTUS!" Their leader yelled, ushering in his forces ever forward.
Omnipotus, at the very least, had an appearance that fit his grand-sounding name. He was huge, reaching a staggering height that was well over twelve feet tall at least. While his form was still humanoid, it displayed no small amount of divergences that served to make him look intimidating.
There were a lot of spikes. Spikes on his knuckles, wrists, and elbows, and not just jutting out of his flesh but even the armor that he wore. If this guy had ever heard of restraint, I couldn't believe it, because everything about him seemed specifically designed to be extrain every way that mattered.
The Guardians of the Globe were formed at the back of the defender's formation, though that wouldn't be for long. Seeing as I could portal us anywhere, we were just taking the moment to formalize our strategy. And everyone, especially Shrinking Rae and Dupli-Kate, was doing last-minute gear inspections on their first operational field test of their costumes.
"What is it about Earth that makes it so everyone wants to invade?" Rex complained.
"Magic dirt theory, mostly," Immortal offered. "I've seen it a thousand times. They think we're special because of our land and not the people on it."
Rudy, attempting a more authoritative tone, cut in before the conversation could grow more fraught. "Regardless of the reasoning, we need to make a proper response to assist our allies."
Turning to me, his helmeted head focused my way. "Taijitu, are you prepared to be the tip of the spear?"
"Of course not."
"Excellent, with that settled—" he continued, almost slipping past my negative statement, before whipping my way. "Wait, what?"
Most of their eyes had turned my way, as I tilted my head and inspected the various forces more closely. Even Omnipotus. "Nothing about this is a situation that I couldn't solve by myself. But if I did so, you guys would learn or gain nothing. Don't get me wrong, I'll intervene if someone's about to die. But you all need to get some training, and there's nothing quite like field testing to get the job done."
"You're the Guardians of the Globe," I smiled as innocently as possible, as sinking realization began to dawn on all of their faces. "So show me you can guard it when I'm not around."
While I wasn't a proponent of tossing children into the pool to sink or swim, in this situation it felt justified. None of the threats here seemed out of the realm of possibility for them to solve by themselves. They had the tools, the technology, the training. Now it was just a matter of seeing how far they'd come.
Provided anyone was actually in danger of getting maimed or seriously hurt, I'd step in. But until that point was reached, I'd let them struggle and fight it out.
The Dragonball school of training wasn't one that worked all the time, yet when it was effective, it was really effective. Or it'd go wildly, catastrophically wrong. The next hour would tell if I was a visionary or a gigantic idiot.
Likely a bit of both if we're being honest.
Author's Notes
Yeah, I think I forgot to introduce Shapesmith in a prior chapter, but the chronology of the first part of season 2 of Invincible isn't that important. At least, it isn't that crucial outside of a few key points that need to be met, typically, which is pretty much almost exclusively the Angstrom incident. Since that sets up one of the more dramatic arcs in the series.
Ain't nobody walking up to this story and going, "I really wish Shapesmith got some time to shine." If you are, please tell me so that I can be proven wrong and amazed. We're going into a brief interlude, then into Sequid bullshit. Having rewatched season 2, goddamn, it doesn't feel like a lot happens, even if important things are set up.
Great Teacher Grimoire has launched over on QQ, so if you're active there, give it some love! And always, thanks for reading. Lemme know what you guys thought, criticisms, etc.