The Pentagon looked exactly like it did in the source material. Except, it was quieter, colder, and smelled faintly of floor wax and high-grade anxiety.
We walked down a sterile hallway that seemed to stretch on forever, flanked by armed guards who looked like they were bred in a lab. Donald led the way, his heels clicking rhythmically against the tile. Every few seconds, he'd tap his earpiece, muttering codes that I couldn't quite catch and informing us about what kind of care the medical wing was providing to Nolan.
Debbie was gripping my hand so hard I thought she might actually break it. I squeezed back, trying to channel every ounce of a nervous son that I could.
I'm about to meet the most paranoid man on the planet. Gotta play it off well or I might never get any peace.
Donald stopped in front of a heavy reinforced door. A bio-scanner swept over his face, and the lock disengaged with a heavy thud.
"We have him stabilized," Donald said, turning to us. His voice was softer now, less agent-like. "But I need you to be prepared. It was... brutal. The most violent scene the Agency has ever processed."
Donald pushed the door open. Inside, the room was dimly lit, illuminated mostly by the rhythmic pulsing of life-support machines. In the center of the room lay Nolan.
He looked smaller. The man who could bench press a mountain was hooked up to a dozen tubes, wrapped in bandages that covered eighty percent of his body. His face was a map of bruises and lacerations.
Debbie rushed to the bedside, her hands hovering over Nolan, afraid to touch him. "Oh, God. Nolan..."
Damn, they fucked him up.
"Who did this?" I asked Donald.
"We have no idea," said the voice of a man standing in the corner, arms crossed, with a scarred face and the kind of eyes that could read you just by looking at you.
It's the crypt keeper himself.
"Cecil Steadman, director of the GDA." he introduced himself to me with a firm handshake. "Deborah, I'm so sorry we had to meet like this again."
"Cecil, you've got a lot of nerve," Debbie began, but Cecil cut her off.
"We received a distress signal from the Guardians' HQ. By the time our teams arrived... It was a slaughterhouse." Then he shifted his gaze to the unconscious form of Nolan. "The Guardians are gone."
"Oh my god!" I gasped.
"Gone?" Debbie whispered, turning around, tears streaming down her face. "War Woman? The Immortal?"
"Dead, all of them torn, limb from limb." Cecil confirmed, not sugarcoating it. "Your husband was the only thing breathing when we got there."
I stepped closer to the bed. "How is that even possible?"
"That's something we're still working on." Cecil responded. "We're analyzing the forensic data now. But whoever they were, they were fast enough to catch Red Rush and strong enough to crack the Immortal's ribs."
"That's not very reassuring." I said with a deadpan expression.
"That's just how things are at the moment." he said, then Donald approached him.
"Sir we got a situation downtown, some kind of attack, numerous contacts with heavy weaponry. Multiple casualties."
"Now of all times, we're a little understaffed in the hero department." Cecil responded.
I'm guessing that was my cue to respond to the call. If I don't do anything, it'll seem suspicious, besides, Debbie is pretty much out of it right now.
As the door closed behind Cecil, I walked over to the bed and looked down at Nolan. He looked peaceful, for a mass murderer.
Boy wake up I know you ain't sleeping. You caused all this, and now you're sleeping it off while I have to deal with the fallout? You ain't got no shame?!
It was time for my debut, hopefully I produce better results than my canon counterpart achieved.
Time to go to work, I thought as I rushed back home and suited up.
I followed the plume of smoke rising from downtown. From twenty thousand feet, the city looked like a circuit board on fire. I hovered there for a moment, my enhanced vision zooming in on the chaos.
It was bad. The Flaxans—green, ugly, and angry—were tearing up the streets. They weren't just robbing banks; they were leveling apartment complexes. I saw a tank roll over a sedan with a family still inside. I saw laser fire cutting through a bus stop.
This wasn't a cartoon. These weren't misunderstood tourists. They were invaders. And in a world like this, you don't reason with invaders. You put them down.
These green muthafuckers ain't gonna get an ounce of mercy from me.
I soared upwards, then dropped from the sky like a kinetic missile, aiming for the densest cluster of tanks.
BOOM!
I slammed into the lead tank feet-first. The metal crumpled like wet cardboard, the shockwave flipping two other armored vehicles onto their backs.
Dust and debris clouded the air. As the smoke cleared, I stood in the center of the crater. A dozen Flaxan soldiers turned their weapons toward me.
"Fire!" one of them shrieked in their guttural tongue.
"Too slow!" I roared, blurring into motion. I didn't use fancy martial arts; I used brute force. I punched through chest plates like they were made of paper. I tore the cannon off a tank and swung it like a baseball bat, clearing a squad of four in a single swing.
For a minute, I felt unstoppable. A god among mere ants. But then, the numbers caught up to me.
Fifty laser rifles locked onto me simultaneously. I crossed my arms to block, but the sheer volume of energy was staggering. The concussive force lifted me off my feet, slamming me backward into a brick wall. Before I could recover, three more tanks rolled around the corner, unleashing a barrage of plasma shells.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Ahh, that hurt like a bitch. How many of these bastards are there, this feels like an unending wave.
My ears were ringing. My skin felt hot from the plasma burns. I was durable, yeah, but I wasn't invincible yet. Not fully.
"Damn it," I spat, wiping blood from my nose.
I need to thin the herd, but I can't get close enough to—
Suddenly, a pink forcefield materialized in front of me, deflecting the next volley of tank fire.
Thank the fucking lord!
"Need a hand?" a voice called out.
I looked up. Hovering above the street was Atom Eve, her hands glowing with energy. Beside her, on a floating disc, was the rest of the Teen Team.
"Took you long enough," I grunted, launching myself back into the fray.
With Eve blocking the heavy fire, Rex Splode turning the infantry into fireworks, Dupli-Kate adding sufficient assistance on the ground, and Robot providing a sonic remedy to accelerate the aging process, the pressure released instantly. I was free to move again.
"Push them back!" I yelled, dashing towards a Flaxan giving out commands.
He was barking orders, trying to rally his troops, but I could see the wrinkles forming on his face. Their time dilation tech was failing. The lower-tier soldiers were already slowing down, their movements becoming arthritic and sluggish. They began to scramble back toward the shimmering rift in the middle of the intersection.
I tackled the Commander just as he turned to run. He was weak, gasping for air as his skin turned gray and papery. I grabbed the bulky device on his wrist—the one keeping him anchored to our timeline.
With a sickening crunch of metal, I ripped the device free and shoved it into my suit. Then I tossed the Commander toward the portal like a sack of trash just as it snapped shut behind him.
"Stay off my planet bitch!"
The street fell silent, except for the groans of the injured and the crackle of burning fires.
"That was... intense," Rex said, landing next to me and wiping slime off his goggles.
"You okay? You took a lot of hits before we got here." Eve asked, landing gracefully.
"Hell nah, they fucked me up," I said, wiping blood from my face. "But I'll be fine, the civilians on the other hand, might not be."
I looked around. The street was a disaster zone. People were trapped in cars, buried under rubble, or bleeding out on the sidewalk.
"He's right, we can celebrate later," said the mechanical voice of Robot. "Search and rescue. Now."
For the next hour, I didn't throw a single punch. I flew. I ferried the critically injured to the nearest hospital, moving as smoothly as possible to avoid jostling them. I dug a family out of a collapsed basement. I cleared a path for the ambulances.
When the last ambulance finally sped away, I landed on a rooftop overlooking the devastation. The Teen Team had already dispersed to patch up, but I stayed behind.
I sat on the ledge, staring at the spot where the portal had been. I fingered the stolen Flaxan device in my suit.
Robot said the temporal variance suggests they'll be back, or whatever that means. I don't give a fuck, I'll be ready."
I stood up and cracked my back. My bruises were already fading.
I've got some time before Round Two, and I'm not gonna spend it resting.
I took off toward the upper atmosphere. I needed to examine this wrist device, and I needed to work on my speed. If they were coming back with an army, I needed to be fast enough to be a one-man extinction unit.
The next three days were a masterclass in 'hurry up and wait'.
The Flaxans didn't come back immediately. I knew that time moved differently for them. A day for us might have been decades for them. That meant they were rebuilding, rearming, and getting ready to turn downtown into a parking lot.
So, I kept busy.
I spent my time working on my speed, my stamina, my strength, and my endurance the best that I could. I even hovered over the city, tracking certain signatures; one being the Mauler Twins. I found them holed up in an abandoned warehouse near the docks, stealing high-grade components for their experiments.
I sat on a gargoyle three blocks away, eating a lukewarm Burger Mart combo, watching them load crates into a truck.
I wanted to make contact with them, with Nolan being incapacitated at the moment, it would be the perfect opportunity to do so. But, I knew that I couldn't because Robot was monitoring them too. He was tracking their movements, so engaging them at this time wouldn't be wise, I'll have to wait until after they break out of jail. All I can really do for now is keep track of their movement patterns.
A calculated risk, but a worthwhile one. They are very important to my future plans.
I flew off, leaving the Blue Man Group to their science project. Situations like these were tough, but my life wasn't much simpler.
School had become a minefield. Apparently, the additional enhancements to my body after getting my powers, has given me more attention from the female gaze.
Tch, the moment I want to lock-in, the universe delivers unasked for, but not unwelcomed, cheeks unto me. What a life.
"So, Mark," a girl named Laura chirped, leaning way too close to my locker. "Todd said you were at the center doing... gymnastics? Is that why you're even more ripped now?"
She ain't lying, I've gotten even bigger since getting my powers; I've grown an inch taller and gained about ten pounds.
"Something like that," I muttered, trying to grab my calculus book without making eye contact.
"Well, a bunch of us are going to the crater site tonight," she continued, twirling her hair. "Kind of a morbid sightseeing tour. You should come."
Before I could answer, Amber Bennett walked up.
"He's not going," Amber said, stepping between Laura and me. She looked me up and down, a challenge in her eyes. "Because he's going to explain to me why he flaked on our study session last week."
How did my life end up like this? All this ass around me and I can't enjoy them.
"I can't go to the crater, and I can't study," I said, closing my locker with a definitive thud. "I have a family thing. My dad's recovering from an accident."
"Really?" Amber asked, crossing her arms.
"Yea, he was one of the people who survived the invaders," I said, hoisting my backpack. "I've got a lot of weight on my shoulders right now. Ya'll wouldn't want that baggage."
I walked away before she could respond, ignoring the whispers trailing behind me.
Buttcheeks can wait after I've grown some more in power. Until then, I ain't dating anyone.
Then, my phone buzzed. It was Debbie. "He's awake." she stated, causing me to rush over to the pentagon.
When I walked into the room, Nolan was sitting up. The bandages were off. His bruises were already fading and he was eating a tray of hospital Jell-O.
"Mark," he said, swallowing a spoonful of red goo. "Your mom said you've been keeping the planet safe while I was out."
"That's a stretch, I've just been holding things down. How you feeling?"
"Like I went twelve rounds with a freight train," Nolan grunted, flexing his hand. "Cecil told me about the Flaxans. You engaged them?"
"Briefly," I said, watching him closely. "Took out a tank. Saved some civilians. Got my butt kicked a little."
Nolan nodded, his eyes sharpening. "Good. Getting hit is the best teacher. But if you're standing here, you didn't get hit hard enough."
He pushed the tray table away and swung his legs over the side of the bed.
"Whoa! Take it easy, big guy. Where're you going?"
"I've been in this bed for three days," Nolan said, standing up. He wobbled for a microsecond, then steadied himself. "My muscles are wasting away. I need to move. And you..."
He looked at me, a gleam in his eye that was half-father, half-warrior.
"...You need to show me what you learned while I was napping."
Some Time After Getting Home Later…..
"Hit me," Nolan commanded.
I didn't argue. I launched forward, keeping my technique raw. I threw a haymaker with everything I had behind it.
CRACK.
My fist connected with his open palm. A shockwave was created, but Nolan didn't move an inch, however his eyes widened slightly.
"Better," he said, twisting his wrist and throwing me over his shoulder. I corrected mid-air, flipping and landing on my feet.
"Again!" he shouted.
We went for an hour. From an outside perspective, it looked like a father training his son. But I knew better. He was testing my limits. He was checking to see if I was capable enough on my own.
"Enough," Nolan breathed, landing next to me. "You've improved. But we still have work to do."
Two days later, Cecil came to the house wanting Nolan to deal with some kind of threat coming into the Earth's orbit. But Debbie wasn't having it, so it was somehow decided that I would be the one engaging the threat.
"Unidentified object entering orbit. Intercept and identify." Cecil explained from the earpiece he gave me.
I flew up, breaking the atmosphere. The silence of space enveloped me. It was peaceful—until a large, orange, cycloptic alien floated into view.
Ole boy Allen.
Once he saw me, he flew straight at me with his fist extended."
I dodged out the way and weaved his other attacks. Until, I gained enough distance to hold my hand out in surrender.
"Are you giving up already?!" he mentally asked, shocked beyond belief. "We barely even started."
"That's right, I have no real reason to fight you."
"No reason?! Of course you have a reason, you're obligated to as the champion of Urath." he said.
"This isn't Urath."
"What?! It's not?!" He paused.
I crossed my arms, suppressing a grin. "Nope. It's Earth."
Allen pulled out a monitor and looked at the Earth, then he let out a groan, slapping his forehead. "You have got to be kidding me. I did it again? I swear, these star charts are outdated."
"You better get that updated soon, pal."
He looked at me, sizing me up. "Wait, you can fly? You can breathe in space? Are you the designated champion?"
"I hold my breath really well. And yeah, I guess I am." I shrugged.
"Well then!" Allen cracked his knuckles. "I am Allen the Alien, champion evaluation officer for the Coalition of Planets. Prepare to be evalu—"
"Pass," I said, holding up a hand.
Allen paused. "Pass? You can't just pass. We have to fight. It's protocol."
"Look, man, you're at the wrong planet," I said, floating closer. "I'm not supposed to be evaluated. You're looking for Urath. It might be that way." I pointed randomly into the void. "If we fight, we'd just be wasting time. You've got a schedule to keep, right?"
Allen lowered his fists. "I mean... I am behind schedule. And if this isn't Urath..." He sighed. "Fine. You make a compelling argument, Earthling. But next time I come back, we throw hands. Deal?"
"Deal," I said. "Fly safe, and prosper or whatever."
He rocketed away. I watched him go. "That's one crisis averted," I communicated to Cecil.
Now to focus on the bigger one.
Almost as if the universe heard me, my earpiece screeched. "Kid! Downtown! They're back!" Cecil responded.
I turned and sped towards the area. When I arrived, I saw them. The Flaxans. But this wasn't like last time. They weren't aging. They had sleek, white armor now, and massive walkers that stepped over cars with ease.
Guess it's time for Round Two.
I slammed into the nearest walker, tearing its leg off. But it didn't crumple like the tanks from last time. The metal groaned and sparked, resisting my grip. I had to actually try.
"Reinforced alloy," I noted, tossing the leg aside.
But for every one I destroyed, three more appeared. They stepped through the portal in perfect formation. No screaming, no confusion. Just cold, drilled efficiency.
Oh shit, I smirked nervously. They've been training for this. Probably for decades.
Fifty rifles locked onto me simultaneously. I tried to speed-blitz them, weaving through the air, but their targeting computers were faster this time. They tracked my trajectory, leading the shot rather than chasing it.
BOOM.
A bolt caught me square in the chest. It didn't burn like normal plasma; it felt like being hit by a sledgehammer swinging at Mach 1. The air left my lungs instantly, sending me crashing backward into a section of a building.
"Ahh, that hurt like a bitch!" I gasped, pulling myself out of the brickwork. My chest heaved as I looked at the scorched mark on my suit. I struggled to stand up, shaking off the ringing in my ears.
Man, these muthafuckers kinda boxing, I'm not gonna lie.
Before I could regain my footing, a massive shadow fell over me.
"You!" a voice boomed, distorted by a heavy synthesizer.
I looked up. Floating above the wreckage was the Commander. But he wasn't wearing the standard spandex anymore. He was encased in a bulky, white mechanized battle suit that looked like a cross between an astronaut and a tank.
Damn, he made a whole Hulk Buster, just for me.
"You took time," the Commander snarled, his suit's thrusters flaring as he descended. "I come to take life."
And this mutherfucker's speaking broken English too?!
"You look like a knock-off Gundam," I quipped, cracking my neck. "Let's see if you crumble like one."
I launched off the pavement, aiming a straight cross at his faceplate.
CLANG.
My fist connected, but a shimmering energy shield flared on impact, absorbing the blow. The feedback rattled my arm up to the shoulder.
"Kinetic shielding?" I muttered. "Damn, you had prep time huh?"
The Commander swung a massive, hydraulic-powered fist. I ducked under it, weaving to his blind spot. I grabbed the exhaust port on his back and pulled, trying to rip the suit open. Metal screeched, but the alloy held.
"Get off!" he roared, venting superheated plasma from his back ports.
"Ahhh! That's Hot!" I yelped, letting go and backflipping away.
I landed in a crouch, analyzing. He's durable, but he's slow. I can take him. I just need to crack that shell.
I blurred forward again, this time ignoring the shield and going for a grapple. I ducked a plasma blast, grabbed his leg, and used my flight momentum to slam him into the asphalt.
CRUNCH.
The Commander grunted as his sensors shattered. I raised my fist to finish it—to cave that helmet in—when my danger sense flared up.
The Commander shrieked from the crater. "Target him!"
I looked up. The sky turned white. Every walker, every tank, and every soldier in a five-block radius turned their weapons on me. It wasn't a firing squad; it was a firing battalion.
"Oh, shi—"
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
A wall of concussive force slammed into me. I crossed my arms to block, but the sheer weight of fire pushed me back. It dragged my boots through the concrete, digging trenches in the road. I was being buried under a mountain of energy.
"There's too many of them!" Eve yelled over the comms, panic edging into her voice. "We can't hold the line!"
I gritted my teeth, my suit smoking, my arms trembling under the assault. I was strong, but I was drowning in laser fire.
Then, the noise stopped.
BOOM.
A red and white blur slammed into an upgraded tank, turning it into scrap metal.
Nolan stood there, floating inches off the ground, looking annoyed. The Commander scrambled back in his damaged suit, terror evident even through the helmet.
"I leave you alone for five minutes," Nolan said, glancing at me. "And you let the city get overrun?"
"They upgraded," I panted, wiping soot from my face.
"So do we," Nolan said.
He launched himself at the main portal. He wasn't fighting; he was erasing them. He flew through the tanks, through the walkers, creating a sonic tunnel of destruction. He grabbed the Commander by his bulky suit and threw him—and the three tanks behind him—back into the portal like a bowling ball striking pins.
"Push them back!" Nolan ordered, grabbing a massive walker by the leg and hurling it through the rift.
The Flaxans began to retreat, terrified of the mustachioed demon. But Nolan wasn't done. As the last battalion fled, Nolan didn't stop. He flew right into the portal after them.
"Pops, wait!" I shouted—purely for show.
The portal flickered and snapped shut. He was gone.
The silence that followed was heavy. The Teen Team landed around me, looking at the empty space where the portal used to be.
"Wait, hold on," Rex exclaimed, pointing a shaking finger at me. "Omni-Man's your dad?!"
I looked at him, feigning exhaustion. "Seems that way," I shrugged.
"He... he went in," Eve said, her eyes wide with worry. "Is he coming back?"
"Only time will tell now," I said, dusting myself off.
I turned away from them, scanning the battlefield. It was a graveyard of advanced technology. The street was littered with their upgraded gear; from anti-aging wristbands, to heavy plasma rifles, to the shards of the Commander's armored suit.
While the rest of the team stared at the spot where the portal vanished, paralyzed by the shock of what just happened, I quietly walked over to a destroyed walker.
I checked to make sure no one was looking, then began grabbing every piece of advanced circuitry, power cores, and data chips I could find, disguising my actions as clearing debris.
This tech wasn't just scrap. It was a localized time dilation field. It was energy shielding. It was a hyperbolic time chamber waiting to be engineered.
On god, I thought, shoving a temporal drive into my suit. I'm going to conquer that dimension, even if it kills me.