《Marvel: I Have A Super USB Drive》


 [01] Unforgiven

    Chapter [01]


    "That''s it for today. Coming next week on Monday, I want all your assignments on my desk," Professor Adams, the lecturer of Human Anatomy and the head of the Department of Anatomy, finalized his three-hour-long lesson with a stern reminder. His bespectacled gaze swept across the entire classroom.


    His demeanor was one of extreme professionalism and strictness. He made the students respect his authority and follow his rules. If they ever disobeyed him or crossed him negatively, they would face severe consequences on their final exam marks.


    Everyone in the room probably didn''t want to get on his bad side lest they suffer unnecessary academic ''hurdles''.


    "Before I forget, are you sure that all of you are here?" Professor Adams subtly fixed the glasses on the bridge of his nose as he narrowed his beady eyes at the Class Representative.


    The Class Representative was a pretty young woman clad in the latest designer dress, exuding an undeniable aura of luxury and royalty. Her long auburn hair was neatly arranged in a classic but stylish bun, highlighting her pale, glistening skin, likely the result of a strict skincare routine.


    ¡°Miss Portman, I presume I left the roll call sheet with you?¡± Professor Adams asked matter-of-factly, arching his almost nonexistent brows.


    ¡°Yes, professor. I still have it,¡± Miss Portman, better known as Ashley, replied confidently. She then casually rummaged through her bag and, after a few seconds, produced the attendance sheet, tightly wrapped around her slender, manicured fingers.


    Ashley was already used to the professor''s antics since she secretly knew that he always had a copy.


    In truth, she had never questioned why he left the attendance sheet with her, as he had never appointed her as his assistant.


    Even though the auditorium wasn''t exaggeratedly huge, Ashley felt that it was a hassle to walk to the teacher''s platform. As she prepared to rise from her seat, Professor Adams waved his hand downwards as he dawdled toward her seat.


    Professor Adams had the typical professor appearance, with a round figure and a thick, prominent mustache that looked quite comical.


    Despite his funny walking style, no one had the audacity to make fun of it in the department. Everyone in the room had some kind of basic maturity when it came to small things like dignity and respect toward authoritative figures like Professor Adams.


    Professor Adams casually grabbed the roll call sheet from Ashley''s hand, muttering something under his breath before calling out the names.


    The Pre-Med Year One Class was familiar with this routine in every Professor Adams''s class, so they didn''t exhibit any significant changes in their expressions. Well, except for one student - Joe Petersen - and a few others with a notable reputation for mild truancy.


    The auditorium seats were arranged in an inclined order. Joe Petersen, the individual in question, was occupying an upper seat in the furthest corner of the room, hoping to avoid the Professor''s scrutiny.


    ¡®Crap, I hope the professor forgets about that one-time absence.¡¯ Joe nervously fiddled with his fingers as he awaited the "verdict," more like his name to be called out.


    "Joe...Petersen!" Professor Adams had a slight change in his expression when he called out his name. He then swept his gaze across the lecture hall and, as luck would have it, Joe Petersen wasn''t exactly as invisible as he thought he might be.


    Professor Adams took off his big round glasses, wiped the little sweat on his forehead, and then placed them back again.


    "Mr. Petersen, I am amazed that you bothered to attend my nonsensical lessons," Professor Adams said slowly, smiling sarcastically.


    The eyes of almost everyone in the auditorium befell Joe with various expressions of curiosity, interest, Schadenfreude, and humor.


    Undoubtedly, Joe Petersen was a natural heartthrob as the female populace of the class looked at him with interest, while the males either gazed at him with jealousy, maddening respect, or even indifference.


    Joe Petersen was your standard Male God or simply the "PSL God" whose presence would effortlessly garner a woman''s attention. His sharply defined jawline, reminiscent of someone who had been practicing mewing since birth, perfectly complemented his aesthetically pleasing masculine features.


    He was fairly tall, his long legs stretching out under his desk. If he stood up, he would be around 1.9 meters.


    "Your lessons are as important as my life, sir." Joe''s voice was deep, resonant, and down-to-earth as he exaggerated the importance of the Anatomy class. From another perspective, he sounded like a staunch cultist believer of all that is anatomical.


    Anyway, his reply elicited a few chuckles from the class, while some cringed at his words.


    "Mr. Petersen, I believe exaggeration doesn''t suit you so well." The professor dramatically pushed his frames with his index finger as the overhead light shone over his face.


    The class burst into tremendous laughter as they witnessed Joe get fried, burned, and grilled by the professor.


    Joe had a small grin as the invisible wall around him invalidated any form of embarrassment or emotion from seeping into his heart.


    He was that shameless!


    "Mr. Petersen, try to be serious and don''t miss out on any of my lessons. You know what will happen if you don''t heed my very last warning to you." Professor Adams tried to hide his smile under a fake impassive expression.


    "Next is Jane Rutherford."


    "Present!"


    "Aisha Mohammed."


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    "Present!"


    "Austin Barrett."


    "Present."


    Joe felt the voice of the professor zone out of existence as his mind began wandering to other places.


    His luck had always been good when he missed one or two classes and the professors involved would always be lenient or simply don''t care about his attendance streak.


    His excellent looks have always been a major weapon in his arsenal to alleviate most of his situations.


    It was a blessing to be an Adonis, but deep inside, Joe knew that it couldn''t resolve everything. Everyone had a bottom line, and Joe was careful not to overstep his boundaries with the professor.


    Suddenly, Joe felt his phone''s haptic feedback vibrations tickle his inner pockets, and he was forced to remove an iPhone 13 Pro.


    He briefly read the short notification on the lock screen before silently clicking his tongue in slight annoyance.


    ''I guess today''s the day that shitty Marvel movie is premiering.''


    If it wasn''t "The Marvels," then what was it?


    Unlocking the phone through his Face ID, Joe then went to the app''s settings before turning off its notifications completely.


    Discreetly, he scrolled through a Manga/Manhua/Manhwa app to see if his favorite comics had received any updates.


    Bored after several attempts at refreshing his library only to find no updates, Joe turned his attention to Crunchyroll.


    ''Oh, the "Solo Leveling Anime" is airing tomorrow. Well, still not as exciting as when I had read the official Manhwa two years ago.''


    ''My Instant Death Ability is Overpowered... Blah blah blah, what a boring mess.''


    ''These new Anime aren''t as exciting as I thought.''


    "But once I finish my Human Anatomy assignment, I''ll have nothing else to occupy my time," Joe murmured unconsciously, his lower lip caught between his teeth as he indulged in daydreams of his hobbies.


    "Class is dismissed!" After a few minutes, the words that Joe and every ''normal'' youth had been waiting for finally came out of the professor''s mouth.


    There was a certain buzz in the atmosphere as students began socializing or loudly packing their belongings.


    Joe ignored all of this as he calmly left the auditorium.


    Although he didn''t shy away from social interactions, Joe found it certainly comfortable when he kept to himself.


    "Joe! Wait for me!" An out-of-breath mellow feminine voice sounded behind him as if the person had just been running.


    Joe didn''t need to turn his head to know who it was as he reduced his pace a bit for the person behind to catch up.


    "Why did you sneak off without even saying hi, you meanie?" A familiar redhead with a beautiful figure appeared on Joe''s left arm''s side.


    It was Ashley, and she didn''t leave it at that as she forcibly and casually locked her arm with Joe''s such that they seemed like a romantic pair from afar.


    A visible frown formed on Joe''s face as he tried to remove Ashley''s intrusive arm from his.


    "Ash, didn''t I tell you to leave me alone?" Joe coldly spoke as he easily disengaged Ashley''s arm from the lock.


    "Wow, aren''t you too cold to your ex, my Joe Bunny?" Ashley relentlessly pursued him, unbothered by his reaction.


    Joe clenched his jaw, his thoughts brimming with irritation. ''What an insufferably annoying woman!'' he fumed silently, the words echoing in the confines of his mind.


    "There''s a reason you are called an ex, Ash," Joe stated calmly, his voice carrying an edge of finality. As he exited the revolving door, he deliberately pushed it in the opposite direction, a petty gesture meant to spite the persistent young lady trailing behind him.


    And boy did it work.


    Joe looked up at the nearly clear skies, then shifted his gaze to the flowers gradually blooming on the branches of a nearby tree. The strong scent of spring filled the air, compelling him to take a deep, deliberate breath.


    "It''s a pity there are no Sakura blossoms here. They would have made the perfect backdrop for a typical ''sob-free'' romance anime," Joe mused quietly, unconcerned by the occasional furtive glances he attracted.


    "Bollocks, Joe! I didn''t expect you to pull off such a petty move!" an irritatingly shrill voice, rich with a British accent, complained.


    Even though Joe considered Ashley an annoying and clingy bitch and their initial break-up hadn''t been that overdramatic, they could still barely be considered acquaintances.


    That was the consequence of sharing a history with a different sex after a break-up.


    You either continue talking with each other or just don''t. It totally depends on the situation.


    Ashley was just one of his past conquests. Apart from the 90% physical chemistry between them, they basically were just like oil and water personality-wise.


    Without responding to her pissed-off self, Joe continued walking as if he owned the damned whole world.


    Deep inside her heart, Ashely Portman had to admit that Joe Petersen was a motherfucking burner. Hell aside.


    And she was already obsessed, deep in the pit known as Joe Petersen.


    Even after he broke up with her, there was something that kept her glued to him... like a leech.


    It was fate that they had met at Oxford''s Institute of Biomedical Sciences.


    Soon, the two could be seen on the roadside as they waited for the green light at the zebra crossing.


    "I didn''t expect you to still haunt me like a ghost up to this point, Ash," Joe spoke out expressionlessly as he played around with his phone before putting it back in his pocket.


    ¡°If you want me to stop nagging you all the time, then grant me a wish.¡± Ashley cutely puffed her cheeks, which somehow exposed her one-sided captivating dimple.


    "I could sue you for being a stalker, you know."


    "You lack the balls, I know."


    "Ouch, I feel offended, but I''m at a loss for words."


    "Haha, you''ve always been this way." Ashley''s lips curved upwards in a forced smile, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of sadness, their usual sparkle dimmed. Her voice quivered. "Sometimes, I wonder if you ever felt anything for me."


    "..."


    Joe idly ran his slender fingers through his tousled, yet luxuriously soft, ebony locks. He didn''t see the need to give her a suitable answer.


    "Don''t you think we should have sex one last time as exes?" Ashley leaned her entire body against Joe''s arm.


    "Nada." Joe swatted her hands away.


    "Stop pretending, Joe. I know exactly how sexually insatiable you are," Ashley urged coquettishly.


    "I could get any woman I want for that. You''re simply unnecessary, sweetie." A cocky yet confident grin formed on his infuriatingly distracting red lips just as the traffic light turned green.


    Unaware of the ghostly-driven truck hurtling towards him at an astonishingly alarming speed, Joe sauntered nonchalantly, his hands buried deep within the pockets of his denim jacket.


    Joe''s pale blue eyes widened in disbelief as the world around him appeared to slow to a crawl, the very fabric of Time itself seeming to lag and distort. Joe felt as if he were trudging through a swamp as when he tried to move away from the approaching threat of cessation, the stillness and viscosity of the swamp impeded his movement!


    "JOE! GET A MOVE ON!"


    "JOE!"


    "JOE PETERSEN!"


    Fate.


    Joe couldn''t understand it, as the distant screams of Ashley Portman flooded his auditory senses.


    Truck-kun.


    Are Fate and Truck-kun interconnected?


    "JOE!"


    The last thing Joe Petersen experienced was his body ascending into the overworld as various parts of him got thrown into oblivion.


    He was brutally and literally ''dismantled'' by Truck-kun!


    ''What did I ever do to you, O Deity of Trucks and damnable cliches? You are truly unforgiven!¡¯ Joe thought lamentably as his consciousness sizzled out of existence before he could form more thoughts.


    Meanwhile, in a place far away inconceivable to human logic, a truck the size of a kid''s toy (Optimus Prime Model) could be seen dancing animatedly in the infinite void.


    ¡°? Unforgiven, I am a villain, I¡¯m a-?¡±


    That toy truck was the irredeemable deity of your typical reincarnation and transmigration troupe. And it was clearly roasting Joe through a song that it got to hear from Joe''s world.


    ¡°All Isekai protagonists wouldn''t have done it without me. Remember that boy. Embrace your divine destiny!¡± An indistinctive voice, dripping with antiquity, emanated from the odd little truck as space and time warped around it before it miraculously disappeared.


    If Joe had been there, he would surely have shown it a middle finger and barraged it with a combo of infinite cusses.


    ¡­

 [02] Sa?s膩ra

    [Joe Petersen''s POV]


    It''s eerily dark. Has night fallen already?


    No, this perpetual blankness encroaching on my existence wasn''t night. My existence has lost meaning since I''ve become one with the void¡ªan endless sea of darkness.


    Is this what it feels like to die when life reaches its epilogue? Death. I felt fear, an ominous dread of death itself. It''s a pity a poor soul can''t tremble. I was traumatized by mortality.


    Death was terrifying. After dying, I now understood that I was utterly alone, cast out from the cycle of life. I could never return to the plane of the living.


    Wait... I don''t know who I am! Who am I? It seemed my memories had been devoured by the conceptual void around me. I''ve forgotten everything¡ªa loss of self-identity. No, that wasn''t any worse than shedding my mortal coil.


    Is this what they call eternal suffering? I felt despair, yet I didn''t blame anyone for my misfortune.


    I don''t know how long I had been staring into the nothingness until an infinite loop of stars appeared out of nowhere, spiraling hypnotically before my presence. An illusion?


    I watched in confusion, thinking of the worst possible outcomes if something went awry with those bizarre stars. I knew I wouldn''t have time to feel my astral existence turning to nullity if a supernova exploded in my face. Maybe a big bang would be more lenient¡ª


    I wasn''t given enough time to form another thought as the horrific and cynical endings I had visualized came to be. Luck couldn''t be controlled; it was a variable, and variables exist for a reason.


    The entire pixelation of my existence ushered me into a completely white expanse with no boundaries or ends. What just happened was beyond mortal understanding and couldn''t be explained by physics.


    "Fantasy? Am I in a fictional reality, or is this some kind of twisted afterlife?" Panic clawed at my throat. The idea of being trapped in a fabricated world was terrifying, but the alternative - eternal damnation - sent shivers down my non-existent spine.


    "You really think too much nonsense. I''m not impressed by your overthinking," a voice said, displeased.


    "Within complexity lies a simple answer. Why should one seek a complicated solution when the answer lies within one''s soul?"


    If my soul could scream, I would have screamed Bloody Mary after hearing those cold, displeased words. The one behind that voice scared the hell out of my poor soul.


    I tried to look around, but all I registered in this endless domain was whiteness.


    "What a panicky mess," the voice sounded again before an eerie silence took over.


    It was only after a few moments that the being behind the voice continued, "Hmm, now I see the reason behind your current behavior. You are like a baby. The void is unforgiving, and it washed away the very core of your existence¡ªyour former identity."


    I forced myself to calm down and listened closely to the voice.


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    "Returning your former identity, including memories, will nullify your first wish, then," the entity talked to itself.


    ''First wish?'' I thought in discombobulation. I don''t remember ever wishing for anything.


    Then it happened. Almost immediately, I felt a flood of foreign memories pouring deeply into my soul like a waterfall. It was overwhelming and weirdly orgasmic, like experiencing spiritual nirvana.


    For once, since I came to the void, I felt like myself again. I had recovered every piece of the puzzle about my existence.


    I was... Joe Effin'' Petersen!


    And the killer behind my sudden death had been... a meme! A clich¨¦d existence, to boot! Why did I have to die via a damned truck when my life was just getting better? All my dreams and ambitions had become like smoke, gray and effortlessly blown away!


    I was bitter, but whatever vendetta I had against the envoy of protagonists, Truck-kun, it was better to be discarded since I had just died. Despite my bitterness, I eventually came to terms with my current situation. There was no room for useless whining. What''s done is done, and the past couldn''t simply be reversed, as it was beyond humanity''s capabilities. Time was a taboo concept, and in the grand scheme of things, I was just an ant. After this realization and acceptance sank in, tranquility began to permeate every layer of my soul as I aimlessly looked around, even though I couldn''t spot the so-called existence behind the reappearance of my memories.


    ''Only by embracing tranquility can one see the truth,'' I mused. Of course, that line was just a bullshit mantra I had read from Xianxia classics.


    "You may continue," I said, not bothering to bargain about my already expended wish. Whatever forces had been guiding my fate since I ceased to exist had to be the fabled higher-dimensional entities. And those types of guys should never be messed with. Like, ever. Unless... let''s leave that out.


    Also, since I was essentially one with death, the opportunity glaring in front of me was hard to pass up. It was possibly going to serve as my only chance at rebirth.


    "Karma. Your karma is pitifully low, but through the intervention of the ''one who foresees all,'' the matter of cause and effect may as well be taken into consideration," the voice, neither female nor male, continued without pause. "I deem that your second wish may be the rebirth you mortals always hunger for."


    I listened carefully but didn''t voice my thoughts. ''So far, I haven''t been given any power to choose whatever I want. Those two wishes can be considered to have served their purpose.''


    I felt neither grateful nor ungrateful toward the circumstances beyond my control, as I understood that I was not inherently entitled to anything.


    "I prefer this version of you over the previous, untainted one. The traces of samsara energy in the void can be a nuisance," the mysterious voice stated impassively. "Mortals should know their place."


    ''That was a random remark for a mind reader,'' I thought, unsurprised. As an avid reader, I was well-versed in the themes of reincarnation and transmigration.


    I disregarded the being''s remarks, for my primary concern was leaving the endless white room before its unending whiteness potentially triggered a photosensitive epileptic episode ¨C a pun, of course.


    "Interesting. Now, onto your last wish. Look at the Sacred Eternal Wheel of Fortune in front of you..."


    I smiled internally when I saw a resplendent golden wheel gradually materialize before me. It weirdly resembled Divine General Mahoraga''s Sacred Treasure, or maybe it did since my mind was filled with a plethora of vivid information about anime.


    "The oscillation of Fortune lies in the palm of your hands, but only your luck will determine what kind of reward you will reap for yourself."


    "I will happily await the conclusion instead of divining the outcome."


    "Use your thoughts to urge the wheel to rotate."


    I looked at the alluring golden wheel with immense curiosity. I had no control over my own luck. No one did. The situation was truly... exciting. I was prepared for any eventuality.


    And then, with a thought, I willed the Sacred Eternal Wheel of Fortune to rotate.


    The Wheel of Fortune held endless random abilities, bloodlines, systems, and items that differed in usefulness and versatility: [All Fiction], [A Witch''s Grimoire], [Merlin''s Staff], [Infinity Gauntlet], [Reality Manipulation], [Andy''s Death Negation], [Eyes of Horus], [Denial of Nothingness], [The Architect''s System], [Infinite Mana], [All-seeing Eyes of Odin], [Dog-licking System], [Meta Essence Gacha], [Sun Wukong''s Golden Cudgel], [Black King''s Bloodline], [Nano Machine], [Golden Rod], [Idle System], [Sparda Bloodline], [The Strongest System], [Nigh-Immortality]...


    It would be a lie to say I wasn''t filled with tension and expectations as abilities, bloodlines, systems, and overpowered items from possibly infinite realities were mirrored before my eyes.


    Of course, I wished to get some good stuff, just like any normal human. Who didn''t like advantageous outcomes?


    Anyway, when the Sacred Eternal Wheel finally stopped, I knew my fate was sealed.


    [Super USB Drive]


    As soon as the wheel stopped, pointing toward my future, a shiny black USB drive materialized from the realm of unreality before it flew and quickly merged with my soul. I didn''t even get the chance to react to the USB Drive''s supernatural speed.


    "So it is ''that'' item. Your luck didn''t betray you, it seems. My business with you seems to have reached an end."


    "Hmph, that old geezer won''t be owing me anything starting from this moment."


    Those were the last words of displeasure I heard before I could even process my thoughts.


    The next moments of my life became a living hell of blackness as my astral existence shuttled to an unknown, distant reality! Who knows? Maybe I might just die again.


    I might be reborn as an NPC in Bloodborne, a Gu in Reverend Insanity, a big boss in Dark Souls, a Corrupted in Shadow Slave, or as Kiana, if the author was into gender bender and fluff.


    All in all, I braced myself for the worst. Goddamn ball-fondler Murphy was always listening, always waiting for a positivity slip-up before I get cooked.


    My golden finger could be rendered inconsequential depending on the power level of the universe to which I might find my ass yeeted!


    ¡­

 [03] Dark Fate

    It was in the late evening. The skies above Peaceful Grove Cemetery were dark and gloomy, mirroring the somber mood of the funeral occurring below. Rain splattered continuously on the mourners but since they held dearly onto their umbrellas, they were spared from being soaked mercilessly.


    Dressed in black, the mourners had a disturbing uniformity but the current atmosphere brought about different types of facial expressions from each individual. The ladies in the procession exhibited puffy red eyes, moist with torrential tears trickling down their pale faces. The men donned stoic expressions as they tried to calm down their partners and friends. The clergyman, Father Montgomery, read the eulogy with a heavy expression and furrowed brows yet his tone remained calm and compassionate. It wasn''t his first time sending off a departed soul to potentially meet the Almighty Lord in heaven. As he would like to say, "We are all bound as one, as His children, as sons and daughters."


    The world had lost a kind soul, a dedicated and caring mother, a lifesaver of the sick and impoverished, it had forever lost Veronica Petersen. She had been an exemplary nurse at the well-known hospital, New York City Medical Center (NYCMC). She was even dubbed the modern-day "Florence Nightingale," due to how deeply caring she was toward her patients and clients. Even the most troublesome patients couldn''t help but be infected by her kindness and caring attitude. However, despite her positive and angelic character, she was suddenly afflicted by a stubborn cerebral tumor.


    Doctor Stephen Strange, a successful and intelligent neurosurgeon, even with his medical experience and genius intellect couldn''t help in saving Veronica, a colleague he had worked with at NYCMC. With his arrogance and certainty that most medical conditions could be handled by him, the death of Veronica came off as a blow aimed at his inadequacy. It somehow tainted his perfect, know-it-all persona. Clenching his hands, Doctor Stephen Strange lowered his gaze to the teary-eyed beautiful woman standing beside him. His eyes showed some remorse and gentleness that wasn''t previously there.


    Unlike Strange, Dr. Christina Palmer was emotional and a natural empath. She had been too familiar with Veronica. She had been a dear friend, the only friend she could really bond with, in this god-forsaken city where people only cared about themselves. She couldn''t believe Veronica had left her alone. Why did she have to be useless and unable to aid her? Dr. Palmer beat herself up, partially blaming herself for her friend''s demise.


    Despite the coldness brought by the chilly rain, her tears remained warm as they continuously cascaded down her reddening cheeks. A small hiccup left her trembling lips. Her heart was being torn inside out and her body shivered incessantly not due to the cold winds but due to the sheer sadness eating her alive. She didn''t even react when a long arm draped around her shoulders while their fingers tried to lightly tap her into calmness, to alleviate some of her sorrow. She gave Stephen an upturned appreciative glance for his kind gesture before her gaze began searching for someone amidst the grieving masses. Her dark eyes then landed on the broad attractive back of a tall young man standing at the forefront, just before a casket being held carefully by the pallbearers.


    ''Joe deary.''


    The name of the young man surfaced in her mind as her expression mellowed a little bit. She couldn''t begin to imagine what he was feeling right now but even at such a short distance, she could instinctually hear his silence ¡ªhis coping mechanism. Joe Petersen was ultimately the most affected of all among the mourners as that was her lovable mother being buried.


    Joe Petersen was a relatively tall young man for his age, standing at 6''2 just shy away from being 6''3 but that didn''t matter. What mattered was: that he was insanely blessed with the "good looks" genes. He had short, unruly black hair that perfectly encapsulated his attractive face. His eyes were deep blue, reminiscent of the oceanic wonders and mystical aspects of the sky. His nose was slim ¡ª stubborn even¡ª and his lips were lusciously red. As the mourners grieved incessantly, their silent sobs like a heart-wrenching tune in the background, they didn''t know of the changes currently happening inside Joe Petersen. A new soul had entered the vessel and seamlessly merged with the original soul of Joe Petersen.


    ''W-What is h-happening?''


    ''W-Who am I?!''


    ''Who are all these people around me?!''


    Various chaotic thoughts run through the messy mind of the new resident. It was then that the new memories of his current vessel and his past life began to merge, creating a coherent thought process. His identity became apparent.


    ''I am Joe Petersen and this body also shares the same name as my previous self. Did I just transmigrate into my alternate/parallel self?'' The new Joe thought in wonder and shock, his pupils slightly widening in realization.


    ''Did I selfishly or inadvertently kill this parallel Joe?'' Joe Petersen''s hands shook and his arms tweaked before a hurt expression superimposed on his sad face. He was a normal soul from Earth and he has never killed anyone. Could transmigration be considered killing or was it natural for someone to just take over someone''s body?


    Contrary to how he had felt from a reader''s perspective, Joe felt awful inside after having first-hand experience. He wasn''t that cruel enough not to acknowledge the existence of the other person, even if they were possibly his parallel version.


    ''We are one.''


    ''We have become one.


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    ''We are Joe Petersen.''


    ''We are both her son.''


    ''We both lose her.''


    ''Don''t doubt yourself. You are me and I am you.''


    As if to answer his confusion and questions about morality, the lingering thoughts of the former Joe Petersen invaded his mind to lessen his worries and it was then... two became one, reinforced, upgraded, stronger, and otherworldly.


    "I am...Joe Petersen." A low murmur escaped his red lips, the sound of his voice masked by rain splashes as they hit the solid ground.


    Unimaginable sadness. Anxiety. Anger. Fear. Determination. Confusion.


    A lone tear escaped his eye as a wave of emotions crashed over him, sending tremors through his knees. He crumpled to the ground, his body unable to bear the weight of his grief, as the casket containing his mother was lowered into the fresh grave.


    ''Mother, so even in this universe, fate decrees that you will also leave me due to the same hateful disease.''


    ''Why is fate so cruel to both you and me?''


    ''What did I do to deserve this?'' Joe bowed down, his balled fists hitting the mud. His black suit got dirty with mud but he didn''t care.


    The surrounding mourners watched the young man''s saddening actions, his silent cries gripping their hearts with even more emotions. Some aunts in the crowd intensified their wails due to the scene. Despite all that, Joe Petersen wasn''t seeking theatrical applause even though his actions were slightly exaggerated. He was genuine in his approach. He was hurting. Hurting to the point he felt his soul tearing. His death hadn''t left him an emotional mess compared to his mother''s.


    Joe Petersen''s face, etched with despair, tilted upwards. His eyes, devoid of focus, watched the relentless rain of dirt fill the void where his mother lay. His ears became numb to the sounds of the shovels in action.


    Memories begin cropping inside his mind. Her carefree and gentle laughter. He could almost feel her slender fingers ruffling his unruly hair. He could hear her stern but caring voice as she advised him. He could see how she dedicated herself to the hospital, all to pay the bills and keep him in school. She had been a hard-working woman, diligent and smart.


    "May she find peace in the loving Father''s embrace," Father Montgomery recited in a sorrowful tone. "And from death, shall she be given a new life." The last of the wet black soil thudded softly onto the gleaming wood of the casket, sealing the grave shut.


    And that finally spelled the eventual departure of Veronica Petersen. The send-off had ended. All the mourners momentarily looked to the skies as if at that moment, the deceased soul of Veronica was really ascending to heaven and they swore they saw a glimpse of her ever-so-brilliant smile.


    After that, the mourners moved toward the grave to offer their last heartfelt condolences to the young man who had just lost his only parent, before dispersing. Before long, there were only five people left in the vicinity.


    Joe Petersen slowly rose from the ground while muttering silent prayers for his mother. And then with a swipe of his arm, he wiped his snot before inhaling sharply.


    "Oh, Joe..." A beautiful young woman with blonde hair falling freely on her shoulders and sad green eyes, painfully cried out in distress when she saw his hurting expression. The air around her was one of amiability and friendliness. She seemed like an easygoing person. It pained her even more to know that Joe was in much agony.


    She widened her slender arms and gently embraced Joe Petersen. With her arms wrapped around his neck, she pulled his crying face to her shoulder. She didn''t care that she was struggling to hold onto his tall figure.


    She didn''t speak any words, letting Joe let it all out on her. He could have her lent shoulder any time he wanted.


    Joe had already noticed who was embracing him, trying to comfort him. It was someone so familiar yet so distant. He was between the arms of Gwen Stacy!


    Gwen Stacy. A very important character in the Marvel Universe, both in the comics, cinema, and animation. Through her presence, Joe Petersen finally had a general idea about the universe he was in. As for which version it was, he didn''t have any idea. Not like it brought him any form of comfort anyway as whatever version he might find himself in, cosmic danger will always be there. Existential threats, Cosmic horrors, alien invasions, a mad titan, a time-traveling conquerer... there were just many death-guaranteed events in this multiverse of madness!


    And it was only his current infinite grief that shadowed his sense of urgency and panic.


    "Joe..." A woman with fiery red hair tied at the front with a black hairband joined the embracing duo as she softly circled her bare arms around them. Her beauty wasn''t any less than Gwen Stacy''s.


    Mary Jane. The name of the young woman cropped inside Joe''s mind which brought him even more questions than ready answers.


    After the two beautiful women felt that they had comforted Joe enough, a thin but muscular guy with slightly handsome features squarely looked at him.


    The other guy''s eyes seemed to hold pure, unadulterated pain. It was the face of someone who had once lost it all and they had their life falling through the gutters before they had the opportunity to live through the guilt. He was quite familiar with suffering; he was within its circle of inevitability.


    "Bro..." Peter enveloped Joe in a heartfelt but awkward embrace, conveying both empathy and solidarity in their shared grief. In that brief moment, a silent understanding passed between them, born of their mutual experience of loss.


    Peter Parker. That was the name of the guy who knew suffering as if it were his closest kin. There was never a day to rest before tragedy came knocking on his door. The Web of Destiny deemed it so.


    Patting his shoulder, Peter Parker leaned back, pursed his lips, and summoned all of his will not to tear down right there and then.


    Joe Petersen nodded in understanding. As for whatever Peter Parker he was interacting with, only time will tell. The "Peter Parker" in front of him looked like an amalgamation of The Amazing Spider-man''s Andrew Garfield and Insomniac''s Peter Parker.


    "Joe dear, come here." Another woman beckoned gently, not with pity but with maternal warmth as if she was directly addressing her son. Funnily, the woman wasn''t that old, probably in her early thirties. She had an air of maturity that was miles ahead compared to the younger women present.


    From his jumbled memories, Joe found out that she had been best friends with his late mother. She was yet another person of interest in this remaining circle of mourners. It was none other than Christina Palmer. Joe obediently threw herself into her expectant arms, his head brushing against her ample bosom. Christina released a sad laugh which deeply contrasted with her teary eyes. She looked graceful even in that moment.


    She ruffled through his obsidian hair, making them wilder, as she hugged him tightly. Joe didn''t have the energy to enjoy her soft body as he caught the masked annoyance of the man beside Christie. He had an inborn arrogant demeanor coupled with his intelligent grey eyes. While his face wasn''t as remarkable as his, he had a certain charm to him.


    Well, if it wasn''t the future Sorcerer Supreme in the flesh ¡ª Dr. Stephen Strange ¡ª and he was giving him that stinky eye for being in Palmer''s warm embrace.


    Joe knew about Strange more than he knew about himself. His arrogance was on the levels of Tony Stark, if not more. But it seems he has yet to have his world overturned after having that accident that forever changed his fate.


    After a few minutes, Christina reluctantly relinquished her hold on him.


    The small group seemed not to care about the rain as they shared their condolences with Joe. They were there for him and what else could he do but be grateful?


    ''What a rough start.'' Joe lamented as the group left the cemetery. He didn''t know what the future had in store for him. However, he promised himself, promised to his dead mother, that he would change the universe. For his loving mother, Joe swore to, at least, find the cure to most illnesses and bring happiness to those suffering from all forms of cancer. It was not a matter of being a hero or a matter of pride.


    It was just a promise.


    With his eyes still brimming with sadness, even though he tried to rein it in, a newfound feeling arose.


    He needed POWER and he was lucky to have the means to chase such an abstract concept. As if on cue, deep within his soul, something mysterious stirred awake.


    It was in the shape of a shiny black USB drive!


    ***

 [04] Infinite Possibilties

    Queens, New York.


    18th May 2010.


    6.45 PM.


    In front of a modern 10-unit apartment building, a tall young man gazed at the stylish structure with a lost look, mired in nostalgia. Two women his age stood on each of his sides, equally staring up at him with slight pity and complicated emotions. The drizzle had stopped, but the skies remained a bruised grey as if it was only a momentary respite before another mighty shower dropped on the lands of New York City.


    "Will you truly be okay all on your own?" Gwen gently palmed the back of his shaking hand. Her fair hand looked incomparably small compared to his.


    Joe slowly redirected his gaze to the caring blonde.


    "Ain''t I a big boy, momma?" Joe mustered a thin smile, the humor failing to reach his eyes.


    "But I ain''t your momma, boy. I''m your best friend," Gwen briefly chuckled.


    ''He is really trying to sound brave. What a stubborn mule. I always tell him to rely on me, but he prefers to tackle everything on his own. Look at him, trying his hand at dry humor.''


    The corners of Gwen''s lips twitched in exasperation, and she instinctively tightened her hand on his. Noticing her peculiar behavior, she sighed tiredly before loosening her hold.


    "Okay, tough one. I want to be stubborn with you, but I know how hard-headed you are for personal decisions," Gwen spoke, defeat clear in her tone. If it were any other time, she would have battled it out until she got her way.


    "Thanks for being there for me, Gwen," Joe told her with a sincere smile as he gently patted her blond waves.


    "There is no need for that, ya know? Aren''t we past that stage, blue eyes?" She couldn''t help but playfully poke his arm as she pouted back at him.


    Gwen then tilted her head to the side to better view the redhead on Joe''s right.


    "MJ, aren''t I right?" She winked at her.


    "Gwen, I am not that close to you." Mary Jane shook her head in severe denial, her unexpected response garnering a peal of laughter from both Joe and Gwen.


    Despite it being one of the saddest moments of his life, the lighthearted moment filled him with hope and lightened up his darkening world.


    ''These two will always be awkward with each other, and from the bits of memories that I have gotten, I see they have been like that for quite some time. Their interactions are basic, neither hostile nor overly friendly.''


    Joe silently contemplated as the laughter died down.


    "Call me if you need more of my heartwarming hugs, okay?" Gwen looked up at her phone and noticed a considerable amount of time had passed. She saw an unread message from his father, George Stacy.


    [How''s Joe boy doing? I feel bad that I didn''t have the time to attend my daughter''s friend''s funeral.]


    [Pass on my condolences. You can also stay ... I approve.]


    The last text made Gwen rethink her decisions again. She immediately tucked the phone back into her pouch, and a calculative glint shone in her eyes.


    "Joe, I think... I would have to disobey your wishes today. You will not be alone tonight." Gwen Stacy stood her ground and leaned forward to inspect Joe''s expression.


    Joe sighed heavily at Gwen''s change of mind. "Alright then, suit yourself."


    He then looked at the attractive MJ, who had been unusually silent since they arrived.


    The Mary Jane beside him was currently in a budding relationship with Peter. However, there was something that Peter didn''t know. Mary Jane had once been an FWB with the previous Joe Petersen. So the physical chemistry between Joe and Mary made their current relationship quite complicated, and anything could go awry.


    ''That''s not good. Peter should be happy with his long-term crush. Although we are essentially the same, I am not the former Joe. I shouldn''t escalate my current relationship with MJ beyond friendly hugs.''


    ''I need to sort out my present life, which makes romantic relationships nearly obsolete. I have other important things to take care of.''


    "MJ, where is Pete?" Joe casually asked with a forced smile.


    An indiscernible emotion flashed in her round face before she quickly hid it with a stiff smile.


    ''She''s always been a wonderful actor,'' He noted.


    "He was quite vague when he left. He said that Auntie May called him," Mary Jane explained, but she couldn''t fully suppress her slight dissatisfaction. It was as if she already knew Peter''s lousy reason to be just a smokescreen.


    "Oh." Joe nodded in understanding as he studied Mary Jane''s face.


    ''It''s highly probable that he has already become Spider-man. That''s just a guess. I still need more data.''


    ''At least I know about Iron Man being a famous philanthropic billionaire playboy.''


    A chilly gust of wind whistled past his skin, and the sting reminded him that they had been standing there for quite some time, even though it was only a few minutes.


    "Let''s go inside. I fear that I might catch a cold after my previous soak from the rain," Joe hurried up the five floors of the building''s stairs, with the two ladies following behind. His and Veronica''s apartment was on the fourth floor.


    A few moments later, he stood before a well-designed wooden door with a key hesitantly aimed at the keyhole. Just one push and he would enter the apartment that she used to live in with him. All it was going to take was a gentle twist of his wrist and he would see the place where he spent most of his childhood. Amidst his hesitance, a warm hand enclosed him.


    "There is no need to hesitate. I''ll help you." Mary Jane''s sweet voice entered his ears before she tugged his hand forward, effortlessly connecting the key to the keyhole. Then she guided him to unlock the door.


    The door silently creaked open. It felt almost dramatic. Still holding his hand, Mary Jane gently pulled Joe into the house.


    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    Gwen looked at the two joined hands with an awkward expression on her pretty face.


    ''Okay, I will allow that only for today. I will pretend I saw nothing.''


    ''Me and my jealousy, huh? Joe is a friend, not my boyfriend. Why do I care about who holds his hand? Certainly, it seems I care about people who already have their own boyfriends.''


    Only she knew who she was referring to specifically.


    As if sensing a fiery gaze drilling holes at her, Mary Jane looked behind and met Gwen''s "never-touch-my-bestie-you-bitch" look. She immediately removed her hand from Joe''s in embarrassment before she focused her attention on the two-bedroom apartment. It was too dark, but Joe was a lifesaver as he soullessly turned the lights on.


    ''So this is the place that Joe used to live in. It surely is spacious and has that homey feeling.'' Mary Jane''s eyes moved from the big living room ¡ª that greeted one''s eyes the moment they stepped into the apartment ¡ª to the kitchen with silver countertops and stainless steel appliances. Her pale green eyes then immediately shifted to the hallway that branched off to two rooms, probably the bedrooms that both Joe and his mom used to use.


    Gwen Stacy had been to the apartment several times compared to Mary Jane. She remembered laughing her ass off at silly jokes cracked by Veronica. Her eyes lingered on the grey couch, and she could visualize Veronica''s image as she held onto a glass of red wine. When she was drunk, she would then tell her all the silly but cute stories of Joe as a child. How he feared cucumbers just like a typical cat, how naughty he had been, and how he used to spellbind the little girls and make them cry and fight over him. A small, reminiscent smile formed on her face as two streams of warm tears cascaded down her cheeks.


    ''How I miss that crazy young woman, as she liked calling herself despite being middle-aged. She was just like a mother to me. She was my mother.''


    ''Am I too sentimental for liking her that much? What wasn''t to like about Veronica?''''


    Gwen Stacy strenuously sat on the comfy seat before leaning her head back, her face facing the hard ceiling. Just as Joe had lost a mother, she had similarly lost someone she could confide in ¡ª a person she could share virtually everything about herself.


    Gwen lazily turned her head to the side, not caring how she was messing her blond hair. She noticed Joe standing like a statue in the kitchen area, and since she could only make out his back frame, she couldn''t decipher what he was thinking. However, that didn''t prevent her from knowing how he was currently feeling. A memory of her past self in the same position as Joe surfaced in her mind. It was the memory of when she had lost her mother and younger brother five years ago. The world had been cruel then, and it still didn''t falter in its cruelty at the present or, similarly, in the future.


    Joe blankly looked at the oven, at the cupboards, at the utensils, at the gas cooker... He looked at everything in the kitchen.


    Ghosts of his young self and a beautiful woman helping each other in the kitchen began playing out like a paranormal phenomenon.


    Joe swore he could still smell the aroma of his favorite meatloaf and pot roast. He could almost hear her immaculate laughter as his younger self tried to stuff a whole meatloaf into his little mouth. Even without the love and protection of an absent father, Joe had come to see his mother as the strongest person in existence, constantly supporting and guiding him through his growth.


    His eyes once again reddened, but this time round, no tears escaped. Joe inhaled heavily.


    The house still had that floral scent of her mother''s perfume lingering in the air. It was soothing and comforting. Joe had an illusion that she was still there, like she never left.


    "Hey ladies, I don''t think I will have the energy to prepare something for you. The fridge is all yours. I think I''ll tuck in early," Joe told both Gwen and Mary Jane. He was actually mentally exhausted and needed some time alone in his room.


    "You can share mom''s room if you wanna sleep."


    The ladies nodded in understanding as they watched Joe walk down the hall to his room. When they heard his door closing, they both gazed at each other.


    There was an awkward silence between the two.


    "Wouldn''t Peter be worried about you staying in another man''s house?" Gwen asked seriously.


    Mary Jane lightly scoffed as she sat in one corner of the couch, leaving ample space between her and Gwen.


    "I don''t think he would worry, as he''s always busy with this and that. Aren''t you here to bar me from making any ''mistakes''?" She gave Gwen a meaningful grin as she made herself comfortable while trying to find the perfect posture.


    ''I doubt that you only view Joe as your best friend or something. That''s truly laughable, Gwen. Deep inside, you have begun to go astray, whether you like it or not. Joe is a walking temptation. Face that.''


    "You are a naughty girl, after all, MJ." Gwen slowly leaned forward, her smile mirroring Mary Jane''s.


    "We are both naughty. I am just more open-minded, while you are the type to be reserved. Behind the guise of a pretty and brilliant woman, Gwen Stacy is a woman who yearns for¡ª" Mary Jane explained slowly, almost dutifully, but Gwen cut her off with a raised hand.


    "I didn''t take you to be a poetic one, MJ. Why don''t we both acknowledge the fact that we like Joe? For me, it''s understandable, but for you, it''s not. Don''t you have a boyfriend? Isn''t that, like, morally bad?" Gwen curiously asked as she innocently arched her thin brows at Mary Jane.


    "You are quite na?ve, Gwen. Sometimes, I wonder if you are stupid despite your supposed brilliance." Mary Jane lightly shook her head before rising from the seat.


    "Hey¡ª" Gwen Stacy didn''t take that well, as seen by the thick frown covering her face.


    "I am going to cook something warm and maybe have some coffee," Mary Jane said over her shoulder, then gracefully walked to the kitchen.


    Gwen exhaled in exasperation before following her. She wanted to make herself busy lest she began thinking about something unnecessary.


    "There''s barely anything to scavenge, Gwen. "Mary Jane said after opening the fridge, only to find vegetables enjoying the cold temperature.


    "What are you waiting for? Let''s hit the market. I hope we can find one open in this weather," Gwen said hurriedly, putting on her shoes.


    "Okay, princess," Mary Jane said calmly.


    After informing Joe, both Gwen and Mary Jane left for the supermarket.


    ***


    Inside Joe''s room.


    Joe intensely gazed at the posters and wallpapers on the grey-painted walls of his relatively large room.


    There were posters of beautiful models and even pictures of himself.


    This was the room he had been using before he rented a studio apartment near his school, Empire State University (ESU).


    Unlike his previous self, Joe Petersen had been a model for several modeling agencies in this reality. In fact, he was pretty well-known as a rising star in the competitive world of modeling. Depending on the agency, opportunity, and timing, he could even rack up $500 in one photo shoot. Joe didn''t have problems making $100 or $80 per hour. It was a well-paying temporary job for a student like him, nonetheless.


    Joe gazed at the gaming PC that he built when he received his very first paycheck. It was silently standing on his desk, beckoning him to sit on the gaming chair. He didn''t resist as he also needed to find something from the net.


    The 27-inch QHD+ ASUS monitor came to life when the PC was powered on. The screen brightened up, showing the iconic ASUS symbol. It didn''t take long before he logged in to Windows. All this happened in a matter of seconds due to the presence of a 2 TB NVMe Solid State Drive (SSD) internal storage and 32 GB of 3600 MHZ DDR4 memory. Amongst his list of browsers, he ignored both CHROME and EDGE and clicked on BRAVE. It was honestly a surprise for Joe when he realized that the browsers that used to exist on Earth also existed in the Marvel Universe. As for which iteration, he had yet to know, but he was about to investigate.


    THUMP THUMP!


    His heart angrily beat against his chest as his fingers hovered over the RGB keys. Joe swallowed his saliva, the sound seemingly loud compared to the silence in the apartment. With a few taps of the keys, he would find a sliver of the truth of his new universe.


    "It''s now or never." Joe immediately began to type the names of the Marvel Universe Characters that he knew. He chose characters that were quite well known, be it academically or politically, instead of those with secret identities. You will be surprised by how much people leave their digital footprints behind whenever they enter something on a search engine. Currently, Joe has yet to find an alternative.


    Charles Xavier. The results for Professor X himself said that he was a renowned figure in the academic world. Apart from being a professor at Oxford University, he has written several thought-provoking papers on genetics and its mysteries. After confirming Charles Xavier existed in this universe, Joe began to have doubts.


    "Is this a combination of MCU and X-Men?"


    He searched for Magneto. It seems he was a well-known troublemaker who also happened to be a part-time terrorist. The mutant supremacist was really something.


    "Now I am afraid of the timeline being fucked at any time due to having X-Men characters such as Xavier and Erik alive."


    Joe also found the existence of the Baxter Building, Harlem''s Green Menace, and Iron Man, which was quite obvious. He didn''t type anything deep or intrusive to alert whoever could be monitoring the current metaverse. In the end, it was just his overly cautious mind and paranoia. To make him more of a random Internet surfer, he entered some porn sites with VPN to make sure if some pornstars existed in this reality. When he saw a famed and multi-talented legendary bald man with his suggestive signature smile, Joe slumped on his chair and began to have an existential discussion with himself.


    If Sins was here, then the Iteration of the Marvel Universe he was in could be a combination of Comics, MCU, and X-Men. Heck, there was even Nvidia and AMD in this universe.


    ''Ngreedia is truly stretching its influence through the multiverse theory.''


    Joe chuckled to himself as he blankly looked at the ceiling. He began listing his priorities after gaining significant knowledge of his present world. Because knowledge profoundly influences the workings of reality, he needed to acquire knowledge. Knowledge was a source of power. After knowledge, he had to begin improving his economic influence. Joe had to amass funds for his numerous plans to succeed. If possible, he also required connections, which would lead him to gain political influence.


    "I can do it. I need to do it. It''s imperative that I do it," Joe muttered a mantra of self-hypnosis.


    Being a hero was not something he wanted. Joe wanted to survive and make himself a giant in the world of power. He wanted his name etched in the annals of history, and that was his ego speaking. No, that was too straightforward and would put him in dangerous situations. He had to be the man in the shadows who controlled everything from behind the scenes. It was about being mysterious in the background while creating a perfect public image.


    "If I don''t have the necessary power, I don''t think I can help humanity grow."


    The comic book universes have survived multiple threats of incursion, existential annihilation, and reality manipulation. Joe felt it would be arrogant to think he could prevent these events just because he was an entitled transmigrator with a bit of meta-knowledge. Faced with Cosmic Entities and Nigh-Omnipotent Multiversal Gods, he was utterly useless, weak, and almost a nonexistent nobody. Sadly, that wasn''t a matter of self-degradation but self-awareness, the awareness of a brilliant but tiny being.


    "Even though I lack the overpowered golden fingers that those protagonists usually get the moment they meet a ROB, within my soul, I have the gateway to Infinite impossibilities..." With a thought, a black USB that reflected tiny amounts of light materialized on his palm.


    It was cold to the touch but not unbearable.


    "I feel grateful that it allows me to summon and unsummon it for the sake of secrecy and portability, unlike Chen''s version of the Super USB, or should I say... Dimension Key." Joe smiled to himself.


    Before doing anything else, he realized he had forgotten to lock the door. Urgently, he stood up and shut the door to prevent any unforeseen interruption. He then sat back in his gaming chair before carefully inserting the USB into the USB port.


    He clicked on File Explorer with his mouse. When he saw the USB Drive icon showing on the Local Drives listing, his face beamed with slight happiness. He then started a paid Antivirus program to scan the USB before he made any attempts to open it. Joe opened it only after confirming that the USB Drive wasn''t compromised. He loved his PC, and viruses were a massive pain in the ass. In his previous life, he had once been forced to spend a lot of time dealing with a Trojan that kept messing up his system. Subconsciously, Joe knew his actions weren''t necessary since the product was from a higher existence, but he couldn''t help it.


    When he opened the USB and saw the first movie that caught his eye, Joe nearly fell from his chair as a bead of cold sweat rolled down his back.


    "The fuck is ''The Conjuring'' doing here?"


    He was once again reminded that the USB Drive could also contain horror movies!


    ***


    Enjoy the chap.


    [Words 3404]

 [05] Approved

    "The Conjuring" was a classic horror movie with a history based on reality, and it involved real-life paranormal activity investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren. In his previous life, Joe had watched all the movies in "The Conjuring Universe." Being quite the playboy, Joe found that some of his girlfriends adored the thrill of terror and being on edge while "Netflix and chilling" in a dark room. Who was he to refuse a little bone-chilling thrill that made the heart thump crazy while infusing adrenaline into carnal sexercises?


    If he had to name his favorite character in the film, then it would be the demon Valak. Because of curiosity, he had even once researched Valak and found that the demon was a [President of Hell] and was among the list of demons in Ars Goetia. The Nun easily trumped casual spirits like Annabelle and The Crooked Man. Valak had her own fear effect, even though she wasn''t the strongest horror-based entity. The title of the Strongest in Horror Verse was reserved for clowns like Pennywise and entities like the Slender Man.


    Looking at the film with all of its follow-ups, the corners of Joe''s lips twitched as apprehension hovered over his face. He would be damned if he ever thought about opening any horror film from the USB Drive.


    "But why the hell are there only eight movies? Why did they have to be all horror films?" Joe furrowed his brows as he gave the screen a questioning glare.


    The Conjuring, The Conjuring 2, Annabelle, La Llorona, Final Destination, Insidious, The Nun, and Truth or Dare were the only MP4 videos inside the USB.


    "If these are the only movies, how will I have access to other movies if I want to survive in this universe?" Joe''s frown deepened as worry began to fill his eyes.


    "Since I am no longer in the ''real world'' but in a world of over-the-top fantasy, how are the rules of the USB Drive going to apply to me?"


    In the original novel "I Have A Super USB Drive," Chen - The Protagonist - was hypothetically in the real world(Which, to Joe, had been a fictional reality). Chen could instantiate bleeding-edge technology from movies already released in reality. The prerequisite for the movies to be copied into the USB Drive and used for instantiation was for them to have some realism. The technology from the movies had to have the possibility of being replicated or developed in reality, even if it was going to take humanity decades or centuries of research and experimentation. They had to have a believable theoretical explanation.


    Now that Joe had the same USB Drive, there were going to be many vital factors to consider.


    "I am in a lot of trouble. I don''t know if the movies produced in-universe would be capable of being useful to me. Even if I hypothetically wanted to write the scripts of the movies I remember, it would be a hassle to deal with the consequences that follow. Additionally, it will consume a considerable amount of my time." Joe mulled over the possible course of actions he could take if he was left with no option. A contemplative, serious expression loomed on his handsome face.


    Just then, the screen on his monitor began to glitch; green lines and dead pixels began to seamlessly alternate before noisy pixelated grains of black and white covered it whole.


    His mouth slowly opened in shock, confusion, fear, and apprehension. He felt a shiver quickly travel from head to toe as his body shuddered at the quick turn of events.


    ''What is happening?'' Joe thought in panic as he sneakily side-eyed the [Power Off] button.


    ''I have watched numerous horror films to know that a black and white screen isn''t good news. My PC is barely old. There was no way it would malfunction.'' With the agility of a cat, Joe immediately pawed at the button and turned off the PC.


    Only then did he breathe a short sigh of relief as everything fell silent. However, Joe''s relaxed moment was cut short when the Asus monitor inexplicably powered on itself.


    "Fuck, this shit!" Joe choked on his voice as he violently pushed the chair backward. Due to how his body was currently shaking like a twig being taunted by the wind, he stumbled on the floor as the chair spilled sideways. Its tiny black wheels began to eerily spin in tandem with the static noises coming from the monitor.


    With horror coloring his face, Joe mustered enough courage to crawl toward the door. He must escape.


    ''Even if that thick and busty ghost from "Ring" seductively crawls out of the screen, there is no way I am staying in the same room as her. However, on second thought, I think I might consider having a good time with her before she sucks my soul off to hell.''


    Joe began to fumble with the lock, but mysteriously, the door still failed to open! Like what the f¡ª


    [Hehehe, Hehehe!] Eerie, soul-shaking laughter cut through Joe''s attempts to escape an inescapable room.


    "I''m dead, I''m dead, I''m dead! I am fucking going to die again!" Joe quickly mumbled, immense panic lacing his voice. His lips trembled, and his shoulders hunched like those of a sad, lonely dog.


    Joe didn''t want to turn his head. Suppose he turned like all the horror movie characters; his eventual demise would already be set in stone. Joe resisted the temptation of turning his body. It was like a test.


    ''Be like water, be like a rock, like a mountain, unmovable, unshakable. You are a stoned monkey, I mean, a stone monkey. I am Wu Kong.'' Incomprehensible thoughts filled his agitated mind like a maelstrom.


    He remained utterly still, not daring to twitch even a muscle. Indeed, he was profoundly terrified! Fear is an inherent emotion in humans, a necessary one. As Klein Moretti once said, ''The strongest and oldest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest fear is the fear of the unknown.''


    Joe was dealing with unknown forces. He hadn''t even considered opening the horror movies on the USB Drive. So why was this happening? He didn''t have an answer to that question.


    Still standing, Joe suddenly felt a cold and bony touch graze the nape of his neck. In that second, he almost forgot to breathe. In that second, he felt as if death was hanging so close to his neck, like a guillotine.


    ''I am fucking gonna die!'' Joe shut his eyes, his eyelids tensed, and his eyelashes fluttered.


    ''Damn, this feels like Lady Death has a personal vendetta with me when I haven''t done anything against her.''


    Whatever was playing around the back of his neck was slowly sapping his will to survive. Fortunately, as suddenly as it had appeared, the ominous presence behind him receded. Yet, he made no move to look back, staying rooted to his spot.


    ''I am not gonna look. This situation is the ultimate test of a horror film that many have failed. I fear I will turn into a stone after catching a glimpse of Medusa''s Petrifying Gaze or risk turning into salt for staring at the apocalyptic scene of Sodom and Gomora.''


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    It felt like an eternity as seconds escalated to minutes before an unpleasant and horrifying voice sounded over the tense and deathly still atmosphere.


    [You Pass!]


    The almost tangible malevolence inside the room gradually dissipated until an air of normality was restored.


    ''I won''t be fooled.'' Joe cluttered his teeth against each other as his sharp jaws clenched. He was getting tired, standing there like a noob Zombie, but he held on to his sanity.


    In what felt like another relentless passage of time, the cold and emotionless voice of the unknown entity broke through the silence once again(Except for the occasional static noises from the monitor.)


    [Approved]


    The image of the red echidna stamping on something appeared in his messy mind. But Lord knows that creature wasn''t the imaginary fiend behind him.


    [You can turn now. I was messing with you.] Their voice didn''t even drip with an ounce of humor.


    [I am the person that sent you to this world, kid. Because of your satisfactory performance, I am going to leave behind a few surprises on the USB Drive for you to discover courtesy of my friend ¡ª the entity that caused your death.]


    [Don''t worry, I am not present here. This is just a recorded message I left on the USB Drive that would activate the moment you opened it. And, please, if you value your own life and sanity, don''t ever casually mention the names of abstract existences like Lady Death. There won''t be a second chance if she suddenly touches you out of curiosity because of the uniqueness of your existence.]


    [Enjoy your stay here and try to enjoy life, kid]


    With his brows arched in surprise, Joe listened to every word left in the supposed message. He couldn''t believe what he had heard.


    ''So it was a recorded message. But how can a recorded message influence reality like that? Fuck, it felt like a real horror film being simulated in my room.''


    ''For the entity to know my thoughts even before I thought... They had probably foreseen my situation without a doubt. That''s nasty and makes me uncomfortable with their unexplainable cosmic awareness.''


    The built-up tension slowly left his body, and his facial muscles began to unwind. Joe opened his eyes, blinking once, then twice, before hesitantly beginning to turn his head.


    "Nothing?" A dubious expression formed on his face when he saw no one behind him. His neatly made bed remained the same with no creases. The walls were clean, with no sudden footprints. The posters were intact, and the images did not portray any unusual out-of-place shenanigans, maybe like a creepily twisted neck.


    The monitor no longer had that screen of death, but the PC... had miraculously been powered on. Joe released a slow, nervous chuckle.


    "I never knew that I could be a Chihuahua in the face of terror. At least I didn''t bark. Who in their right mind will try to face forces of the unknown directly?"


    A tired sigh left his mouth. "I am only human, after all."


    Joe moved toward the gaming chair on the floor and hoisted it up. He then returned to the desk to check out the surprise the shitty Higher Existence had left behind. He had been played with like that, and currently, he was psychologically injured. If the entity didn''t leave something beneficial for his survival, then Joe would pray for his poor soul.


    Anticipation filled his heart, and his eyes narrowed at the screen in concentration as he clicked the brand-less USB Drive open. What met his eyes were long lists of movies, and under each title was a $100 buying option.


    "Elysium, Limitless... these movies are all from my past world." His blue eyes widened as he scrolled down while trying to identify some of the movies.


    A folder titled "Live and Unlimited Music" contained virtually every song from his previous life.


    "Amen to that." Joe clasped his hands in a saintly gesture. He only lacked a rosary to complete his current image of a priest. How could he not feel happy when he could stream unlimited music for free? Premium Plans of both Spotify and iTunes could go fuck off in some corner!


    "I am not immensely gifted in terms of academic intelligence. I just have enough brains to get by and survive medical exams. The problem is, my mind is a chaotic universe of its own, and I can''t remain focused for long periods," Joe introspected.


    "I lack discipline and motivation."


    "To thrive and survive, I require more than that. I need consistency and 100% from me."


    "What better way to achieve that if not through NZT-48 from Limitless?"


    Knowledge had been his first priority, and it was going to be supplemented by NZT-48, a medium for amassing large quantities of knowledge in a short period.


    The Super USB Drive played a pivotal role in Chen Chen''s ascension to power, both politically, economically, and physically. He had the money and a hold over the world, and his power was not to be scoffed at.


    The Super USB Drive could link Reality and a fictitious space, enabling Joe to bring objects from the fictional reality into the real world. It was more accurate to say that it supplied the necessary energy for the channel connecting the two different realities. The Super USB Drive was merely a conduit, an advanced technology from a higher civilization.


    "But does the USB have enough power to create the link?" Joe rubbed his smooth chin with a frown


    "I will take the gamble and feed this capitalist ''Dimension Key'' with my 100-dollar bill." Joe rustled through the pockets of his black pants and brandished a slightly wet dollar bill.


    "Now, how do I pay for the movie?" He waved the bill in front of the screen, and it disappeared from his fingers at an unbelievable speed. Joe didn''t even get the chance to react as he was left slack-jawed effectively.


    "Wow, even Netflix wasn''t that greedy on Earth, right?" Joe said sarcastically as he randomly gazed at an empty spot in his room as if he were addressing someone in particular.


    With bated breath, Joe returned his eyes to the screen and clicked on the folder containing the Limitless movie before hesitantly playing it.


    When the movie successfully played without any hitches, Joe exhaled soundly.


    The movie starts with Eddie Mora(Bradley Cooper) narrating his own life while dangerously standing at the edge of a tall building, just one step away from falling to his death. It is a dizzying view as Eddie considers if he should leap.


    Not wanting to waste any time on the scene, Joe skipped the scene to the place where the Protagonist finds the bag of NZT-48 pills. He then paused the scene and adjusted the frame to the Bag of NZT-48.


    Joe''s jaw clenched, a flicker of defiance crossing his eyes. He knew he was gambling, but the potential reward outweighed the risk.


    Joe tentatively moved his right hand to the screen. When he felt as if his entire existence was passing through a swampy film, he knew the space-time link had been successfully created.


    Like a vulture, he quickly clawed at the bag before removing it. He could hear his erratic heartbeats as his eyes fearfully gazed at his right hand. It was intact. God knows why the thought of the USB Drive eating away his arm filled him with unimaginable dread.


    "Breathe in, breathe out." Joe tried to calm himself down as he made efforts to maintain his breathing rate.


    "I am fine, I am fine. I did it. This thing''s legit!" Joe instinctively tightened his hold on the aluminum foil bag in his hand.


    "I did it!" He reminded himself again.


    Joe then looked at the USB Drive inserted into the USB port. Its appearance had slightly dimmed because it had lost energy. From the way it was, Joe knew that it would need massive amounts of energy to facilitate the instantiation of huge objects.


    "My electricity bill is going to take a hit for quite some time before¡ª" Joe lamented in a low voice, but then, a brilliant idea appeared in his mind.


    "I shouldn''t worry about electricity. The possibility of harnessing a virtually limitless energy source is high in this universe."


    "From Dr. Otto''s research on a clean source of power that concentrates on creating an artificial sun to Tony Stark''s reactor technology, there is truly a lot of work to be done."


    Joe gazed down at the aluminum bag and smiled. "You are part of the plan, buddy."


    Then, he heard the apartment door open and the voices of the two ladies who had gone to the supermarket travel down the hallway.


    Joe swiftly put the bag of NZT-48 inside the innermost pockets of his suit''s coat. He didn''t feel at ease keeping such valuable resources even a centimeter away from his body. The NZT was his close-guarded secret. After that, he successfully ejected the USB Drive and absorbed it into his soul.


    Grrrr!


    His stomach just had to ruin his monologue by rumbling in protest.


    Like a Pavlovian dog, Joe left the room with the intent of waiting for the food to be prepared. Maybe he might find something interesting if looked into the news of events happening across the world.


    "Hey, what''s in it for dinner?" Joe strolled into the living room with his hands tucked in his coat''s pockets. Mary Jane was arranging some of the things they had bought in the fridge while Gwen was holding onto a knife as she eyed the red and thick steak.


    When Joe saw Gwen holding a knife like that, like she was about to commit a Yandere homicide, he slowly but carefully entered the kitchen.


    "Gwen, be careful with that knife. We wouldn''t want you hurting yourself from a silly mistake," Joe warned as he firmly enclosed his hand over Gwen''s.


    "I am not a child. You are just like Ronnie, you know. She used to scold me whenever she witnessed me holding the knife like that," Gwen smiled, his voice low and almost choking. And within that sadness, she still felt warm and giddy at how Joe''s fingers laced hers.


    "The kitchen was her sacred domain. There was no way she wouldn''t be strict with you," Joe weakly chuckled as he moved his hand away, much to Gwen''s disappointment.


    She quickly hid her crestfallen expression when she sensed Mary Jane approaching them.


    "I thought you would be sleeping like a log, tiger," Mary Jane looked up at Joe with an unreadable face.


    The kitchen bulb slightly illuminated her face, showing the cute freckles on her cheeks and nose.


    ''Now I know why Peter was relentless in his pursuit of her. She''s a unique beauty.'' Joe thought in passing as he assessed Mary Jane.


    Seeing her cheeks reddening and her body fidgeting, Joe realized he had been staring for too long.


    "I am hungry." He held a carrot and played with it. It was more like he planned to wash it before munching on it.


    "Now, shoo. Leave us to make dinner. Off you go." Mary Jane dramatically pointed to the living room.


    "I have understood the message," Joe said, raising his hands in surrender, but he did not forget the carrot.


    Gwen burst out laughing at his antics.


    After Joe left for the living room, the two ladies began to prepare dinner dutifully.


    Biting on the wet head of the carrot, Joe picked up the remote on the couch and turned on the 55-inch TCL.


    "I killed my family..." A random anime began, and the carrot in Joe''s hand slipped onto the cushion.


    "Well, this is certainly a huge surprise," Joe silently murmured in disbelief.


    But just as he prepared to watch the full episode, the channel miraculously disappeared!


    "Now, this is weird. Super weird." Joe shook his head as he picked up the fallen carrot.


    He then switched channels, only to find the Sovereign of Latveria being interviewed on CNN Live.


    "Now, this is interesting."


    ***


    [Words 3239]

 [06] Doom

    "My name is John Smith and today, we managed to clinch a rather unexpected interview with the Monarch of Latveria himself, Dr. Doom!" A man with a dashing smile and slicked golden hair introduced himself. Beside him was a live feed video of a being clad in silver armor and a green cape. The monarch sat on a throne, unfettered and gallant. On his face was an iron mask that served to hide his ruined face and who he truly was on a more personal level. He was Victor Von Doom!


    "You shall address me as just Doom." The Monarch of Latveria responded with a light grumble.


    John Smith chuckled awkwardly while his fingers fiddled with the papers in his hand.


    "Okay, okay. Now Doom..." John Smith stressed on his name. "Are the rumors surrounding your legendary trip to hell and managing to return unscathed... true?


    "You know not of the peril that you are bringing yourself, John, by speaking matters that should not be spouted carelessly." With his elbow on the throne arm, Doom slightly leaned forward and warned in a slow but threatening voice.


    If they were not separated by distance and circumstances, according to Latverian law, the ignoramus known as John Smith would have been executed with immediate effect!


    "Calm down, Mister Doom. I was just curious and rumors like that always need credence." John declared, putting on a brave front even though his lower torso was tweaking and shaking beneath the reporter''s desk.


    "But the fatal thing about curiosity is that the cat always dies." Dr. Von Doom spoke with a tone of finality, his cold inhuman eyes piercing through the screen. Then, without giving a shit ton about his indirect verbal threat, Doom tapped on a button with his iron finger.


    The remote live feed was discontinued!


    "Hahaha... hahaha..." Joe let out a humorless burst of dry laughter.


    "That''s so Doom-like. The bastard newscaster is a goner." Joe could already predict John Smith''s fate for going above his payroll and ''messing'' with someone as edgy as Doctor Doom.


    "Now I wonder which iteration of Doom is this? Probably Comic Doom." Joe puckered his lips while nodding to himself. The existence of someone like Doom didn''t bring him any peace or joy; instead, it only fueled his hunger for superhuman powers. Even though he didn''t particularly like or hate the Latverian Overlord, Joe still admired the sheer will the character harbored inside him. Just from the reporter''s inquiry about some rumors, Joe wondered if Doom had really visited Mephisto. In a certain comic run, Doom had the balls to face the King of Hell himself without an ounce of fear. Heck, even the Ancient One didn''t want to teach him magic so Doom did what he did best... he taught himself.


    "John Smith, John Smith...where have I heard that name from?" Joe nibbled on the last piece of the carrot as he absent-mindedly stared at the ceiling.


    It was then a light bulb shone in his brain and realization hit him. Joe palmed his head in self-degradation for failing to quickly recall something as unforgettable as Lord Shadow.


    "Yeah, it''s the name Cid Kagenou adopted when he was going undercover during the Credit Crisis arc. As John Smith, his 7 shadows thought that he had betrayed them." Joe grinned as the small details appeared in his mind.


    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    After that, Joe began to switch through channels but still failed to find anything interesting except for an advertisement from Oscorp Industries.


    "Alright, I didn''t search for Norman Osborn. It seems he might be alive or dead, which feels like Schr?dinger''s Cat. I have a lot to uncover, it seems."


    Grrrr!


    His stomach demanded justice once again when a mouth-watering aromatic scent assaulted his olfactory senses.


    Both Mary Jane and Gwen began moving out of the kitchen while carrying dishes to the dining table. Joe turned the TV off and went to help them.


    "Beef Stir-fry, Roasted Potatoes, and Veggies... you two certainly deserve praise for being my chefs today," Joe charmingly smiled at them as he set up the table.


    In a few minutes, the three sat around the table and began to...


    "Joe..." Gwen narrowed an eye at the sneaky finger trying to scoop a piece of meat.


    "That''s some bad manners you got there."


    "Jeez, cut me some slack." Joe retreated his hand obediently.


    It was then that Mary Jane picked a massive piece of beef and deliberately ate it slowly, just so she could spite both Gwen and Joe at that moment.


    Feeling the hostile gazes of the two, Mary Jane arched her brows and innocently stared back.


    "What?"


    Gwen rolled her eyes. "MJ, we haven''t even prayed."


    "Pfft..." Mary Jane immediately clamped a hand around her mouth to stifle a peal of laughter from escaping.


    Joe smiled relaxedly at the theatrics as he placed huge servings on his plate.


    The food was tasty and fulfilling and Joe found himself going for another round like the glutton he was.


    As the three enjoyed dinner, they talked about random stories and laughed, creating a calm and mind-relaxing atmosphere. It had been a hectic day and now was the time, to at least, eat some of their sorrows away. Food was that therapeutic!


    "I will do the dishes," Joe offered when they finished dinner. It was the least he could do after the two ladies cooked him a good meal


    "Phew..." Both Mary Jane and Gwen sighed in relief. Their synchronized sighs were comical as hell.


    "What? You two..." Joe slowly nodded in understanding, the words he wanted to say failing to leave his mouth.


    "You dread doing dishes, right?" Joe wiggled his index finger at them, wearing a knowing smirk.


    Gwen and Mary Jane looked at each other.


    "He didn''t know. How do we tell him?" Mary Jane opened her palms out in a fake surprise.


    "We don''t tell him. From this day, he will always know." Gwen shrugged.


    "You heard that right, Joe. The dishes are yours. Wash them well, okay?" Gwen passed by him but couldn''t resist poking him in the chest, for emphasis.


    "Do you have any spare clothes? It''s now that I am realizing that I didn''t carry anything." Mary Jane asked Joe as she walked over.


    "Oh. Mom had a lot of clothes. You have my permission to wear anything that may fit you well," Joe replied without hesitation.


    "Oh thank God." Mary Jane exclaimed with relief in her voice.


    "Why you thanking her though? Well, I am showering first." Gwen said with a smirk before quickly entering the hallway.


    "What a B." Mary Jane muttered under her breath as she followed after Gwen.


    "Women. Now it''s me and the dishes." Joe looked at the recently used plates and utensils menacingly glaring at him from the kitchen sink.


    "I can do this all day." There was no way he would fear a challenge like washing the dishes.


    After dealing with the dishes, it was already 10 p.m. Joe thought it was time for him to take a good cold shower before dozing off.


    As Joe passed by the ladies'' room, Gwen opened the door just in time to see him.


    "You took too long."


    "I am a slow dishwasher." Joe shrugged his shoulders helplessly as he studied Gwen''s appearance. She was clad in a pair of snug-fitting pink pajamas with a cute bunny design that accentuated her figure perfectly.


    ''Mom''s clothes for the win.'' Joe gave an internal thumbs-up to his late mother. She was a woman of culture after all.


    ''Her blonde hair is still slightly wet. Did she forget to dry her hair? Not like it matters. Under the dim light, it makes her dangerously sexy.''


    ''Ugh, my teenage hormones are raging. How can I remain calm while perfectly knowing that two distractingly beautiful women are staying with me under the same roof.'' In that split second, Joe had already fought far too many mental demons to care. In the mind realm, he was the Doom Slayer.


    He would be lying to himself and his ancestors if he proclaimed he wasn''t affected by the present Gwen.


    "Okay, mister tortoise." Gwen beautifully smiled as she demurely looked at her bare feet.


    "Hey, I am not that slow," Joe lazily protested.


    "Suit yourself."


    There was an awkward silence that lasted a few seconds.


    "Good night, Joe." Gwen stared into his eyes. How can his eyes be so blue that they even subtly glow in the dark? Gwen wondrously thought.


    "Good night, Gwen," Joe smiled as he turned the doorknob of his room.


    "Okay."


    "Okay."


    Feeling that it was time to return inside, Gwen started closing the door. But then Joe called out to her, causing her to pause.


    "Gwen..."


    "Yeah."


    "Mwah."


    What better way to end the night than by humorously blowing a cringeworthy kiss that would make Frieren proud?


    Gwen showed a vomiting expression before closing the door with a slight bang.


    Joe laughed in satisfaction as he also retreated to his lair.


    ***


    [Words 1515]

 [07] May Chaos Take The World

    With all the mental exhaustion and emotional baggage he had to deal with for the whole day, it didn''t take Joe long before he fell dead asleep on his bed. The mattress was so comfy that he felt his body sink into a peaceful dreamland. He didn''t have to wallow in despair in his sleep since he dreamt of Ranni, the witch, giving him a hand job.


    8 a.m.


    Joe slowly woke from his sleep, his eyes gradually opening. The tired expression that had initially been there before he slept was nowhere to be seen. Now, Joe looked normal after a good night''s rest. Climbing off his bed, Joe felt unusually motivated for the day even though he had yet to take a single pill of the nootropic drug.


    He quickly made his bed before entering the bathroom. The previous night, he didn''t have the energy to inspect it, but now, he could see everything more vividly. The bathroom was spacious and equipped with a bathtub, standalone shower, and toilet.


    Above the sink was a huge mirror plastered on the wall, and Joe walked over to look at himself.


    "Hmm, not bad, but why? Why do I look so skinny?" Joe''s eyes reflected an image of an 189 cm beautiful young man with a slender figure mixed with subtle muscle tone. His hunter''s eyes were unrealistically blue. His jaws were perfectly chiseled, and his lips were thin and luscious. Even while sporting a set of Calvin Klein boxers, he still looked hot in the morning.


    "Is this form I had to take as a model for some famous fashion designers? No, it seems modeling will have to be my past."


    "This isn''t my final form," Joe smirked while pinching the bony aspects of his arms.


    He then turned on the tap water before splattering a handful on his face. With small streams of water droplets rolling down his face and unruly hair, Joe intensely gazed at his image.


    "Hello... You..." He muttered.


    "You are Joe Petersen, and from today on, the world will be in awe of your existence."


    "May Chaos take the world." With a satisfied smile, Joe stopped monologuing and stepped into the shower.


    "This coolness and refreshing morning shower heralds the advent of a bountiful day." Joe closed his eyes and enjoyed the cold shower. Before long, he found himself whistling Kill Bill''s legendary sound notes.


    ***


    Dressed in casual grey sweatpants and a plain white shirt, Joe opened the door and moved out of his bedroom. He was met with an unusual silence in the two ladies'' room and the hallway.


    "Gwen, are you guys awake?" With a raised brow, Joe asked in a moderate voice.


    Unlucky for him, he didn''t get any reply.


    "Could they have already gone and, while not wanting to disturb my beauty sleep, chose to leave without waking me up?" Joe wondered aloud as he headed to the kitchen.


    He found a yellow sticky note on the kitchen fridge. Joe observed the handwriting and quickly recognized it as Gwen''s.


    "Oh well, and this is why I always tell her to improve her handwriting." Joe removed the yellow sticky note from the fridge and hovered it close to his eyes.


    It reads like this: Hi Joe, still enjoying that sleep? Keep on sleeping, then *giggling hand-drawn emoticons.* We didn''t want to disturb you, and I know how hard it has been for you. You needed that rest. Anyway, I have left some bacon, fried eggs, and toast for your breakfast. Those three are in the microwave. Top it off with a glass of milk in the freezer. BTW today, we are having Dr. Connor''s lessons as the first session of the day *evil smirk emoticon*


    "What a sweet but evil friend you have there, Joe." He said in an ironic tone before crunching the paper and throwing it into the bin. However, he missed the three-pointer pathetically. It was horrible.


    Joe glanced at his hands and then did the same for the crunched-up yellow note on the floor.


    "I suck." He wore a self-deprecating smile and picked up the rubbish before gently dropping it in the opened bin.


    Twenty minutes later, Joe finished eating his breakfast. He then closed all the locks on his apartment''s main door before he did anything else.


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    ''An extra layer of security won''t hurt.'' That was what he had told himself.


    In his room, Joe powered on his Gaming PC, and the beautiful RGB lights from the fans and cooler came to life. Joe took a second to admire the mesmerizing lights before his eyes settled on the OLED screen.


    "Wait a minute..." Joe suddenly had an epiphany as he sat on the gaming chair.


    "I don''t have a...phone." He recalled some memories about the reason behind his lack of a phone. Three days before the death of his mother, the former Joe Petersen had been mugged clean by street thugs when he had been returning home from a late evening gig.


    "That''s awful, but at least he didn''t try to act like a hero in front of two robbers armed with knives and, possibly, hidden guns. Now that''s New York for you." Joe analyzed.


    "If it had been Gotham, then it would have been an entirely different story." He absentmindedly tapped on the desk''s smooth wooden surface.


    "Anyway, I have important matters of life and death to deal with." Closing his eyes, Joe willed for the USB drive to materialize in his hand. Feeling the cold but smooth texture on his palm, Joe exhaled in relief.


    The enigmatic creation from an advanced civilization had not left him, and his current transmigration status was not a ruse. The USB was the gateway to far too many possibilities. His existence had been mired in torment and despair, but his life endured; he was given a second chance.


    With a thought, he unsummoned the USB. Looking at the black coat resting on the arm of his chair, Joe took it and urgently searched the inner pockets. When his fingers felt the familiar rough texture of the aluminum bag, his tensed body slowly relaxed.


    The NZT-48 was intact.


    "I have never done drugs in my entire life," Joe nervously spoke as the fingers holding onto the bag of NZT-48 trembled.


    "There are two options to take NZT: Either via oral intake or injection through the veins(Intravenous injection)." Joe scoured some information about NZT intake that he could remember from the movie.


    "Since there is no way I will start playing with syringes and needles anytime soon, the better option is..." He rose from his seat and rushed out of his room. Moments later, he returned with a mug of hot milk and carefully locked the door behind him.


    Joe gently set the mug on the table and took a seat. With his fingers shaking and his heart thrumming against his ears, Joe secured the pill between his fingers. It was a transparent pill, nearly translucent.


    The atmosphere inside the room was heavy, almost viscous, as Joe intensely eyed the NZT-48 pill that was going to forever change his life from a simply handsome simpleton to a more complex and intelligent handsome man. NZT-48 was a game changer. It was a miracle. It could transform even a stupid person into someone decently knowledgeable. The effects were more pronounced on an individual with a good head already on their shoulder. Joe thought himself to be the latter. He was smart, as seen by his pursuit of a biochemistry major at Empire State University. How else could Dr Curtis Connors be his lecturer?


    While not valedictorian, Joe ranked third in his graduating class at Midtown Science High, a feat even more impressive considering he had Gwen and Peter as classmates. This achievement, coupled with his model-like appearance, made him a hot topic among cheerleaders and other students.


    "Back to the present, phew~" Joe exhaled heavily and clenched his hand around the mug to steel his nerves.


    He eyed the NZT-48 pill once again and awkwardly laughed at his dorky hesitance. A memory of an iconic badass from The Boys franchise came to his mind.


    "Remember, real heroes don''t use drugs..." Joe defiantly placed the pill on his tongue, and then, he raised the mug to meet his lips. In one swift movement, he chugged down the milk to wash down the pill.


    Returning the mug to its initial position, Joe took in an exaggerated breath and let it all out as he awaited the neurological enhancement to come into effect.


    "If taking drugs is uncool, then I''m the most uncool motherfucker on the planet!" Joe quoted.


    Not less than a minute had passed, and something incredible began occurring inside Joe''s brain.


    His pupils dilated, not due to light but to being awakened into a whole new domain of clarity. He felt his mind sharpen.


    "I had once been blind, a mere man with no vision, obscured from the truth around me..." Joe slowly spoke out in an enchanted fashion.


    "I-I can now see. I am no longer blind!"


    "I have a vision!"


    At the physiological level, Joe could feel the interplay between his billions of neurons constantly firing up; their biochemical activities further increased, improved, and upgraded. Lost memories, various scenes of his forgotten childhood, his gentle kindergarten teacher, and the faces of the strangers he had passed by the street.


    Joe remembered his High School Physics, a subject he had not been a major fan of.


    He accurately recalled the voice of Mr Maxwell, the Physics Teacher, when he had been yapping about sound waves.


    "How does the string cause sound to be transmitted through the air?"


    "The compressions and rarefactions produced set air masses into vibrations, thus producing sound." His lips widened into an incredulous smile as he answered that he had once failed Mr. Maxwell''s class.


    Joe then turned his attention to his hands. They were no longer trembling. A sense of calmness and serenity had begun to invade every fiber of his being, both physiologically and psychologically.


    He noticed the chipped parts of the mug, which he had never cared to inspect or failed to acknowledge. His hearing also improved as he could now count every beat of his heart without losing concentration.


    Abruptly, he fluidly moved his neck at an instantaneous speed, and his eyes glanced at the ceiling. With perfect clarity, he saw a tiny spider secreting almost invisible threads as it slowly hung some inches from the ceiling. Joe could hear its eight legs moving down the web, which was highly contrasted with the barely audible sound of the gaming machine.


    "Hahaha!" He heard a distant burst of laughter coming from the street. Joe whipped his head in the window''s direction. The window was closed, heavily shielded by a thick, well-designed black curtain.


    Joe moved from his chair and walked to the window adjacent to his bedrest. In a calculated and perfect movement, he parted the blinds, and sunlight greedily rushed into the once-dark room. Surprisingly, Joe didn''t try to shield his eyes from the sudden influx of blinding light.


    He quickly opened the window and gazed down at the street below. He found a group of younglings, of high school students, merrily talking with each other. The group had four boys and three girls.


    Even though he didn''t want to, Joe heard snippets of their conversation and suddenly wished he hadn''t.


    "How uncouth," he muttered under his breath, recoiling from the window as if on autopilot. He hesitated, then left the blinds open, inviting the crisp breeze and the faint scent of nature to fill his room.


    Joe scanned the clothes he had worn last night, sprawled underneath his bed. He immediately sent them into the laundry bin. In a few minutes, he removed all the mess from his room, making it more organized.


    But he didn''t consume NZT just to take care of household chores, right?


    Joe sat on his gaming chair, entered his login password, and began searching for educational programming materials.


    The NZT-48 advantages lasted for 12 hours straight before the drawbacks manifested. A syringe injection could increase that time by an hour, but Joe felt it was not worth it.


    Within 12 hours, he could be limitless. Apart from learning many programming languages currently in the World of Marvel, he could also write famous works from his previous world, like Harry Potter or some series he had read from Stephen King.


    Fortunately, cyber knowledge came first on his to-do list. Online technology covered a considerable portion of the world''s operations. The digital realm was both an opportune place and a place that could equally compromise one''s path.


    With the presence of SHIELD, Hydra, and other influential organizations out there, Joe didn''t feel safe if he couldn''t protect his digital information. After watching Ex Machina in his previous life and witnessing Nathan''s manipulation of the world''s search engine, Joe''s decision to dabble with codes and algorithms became firmer.


    Before creating an AI assistant, he had to build his foundation from the ground up.


    ***


    [Words 2183]

 [08] Creeping Hunger

    "40000 years of evolution and we have barely tapped the vastness of human potential." A manic glint radiated off Joe''s eyes as he reveled in the feeling of being hyper-energized, his entire system overclocked like an Intel or AMD CPU.


    He palmed the colorful mouse and opened the browser. With quick, unbelievable typing that his former self could only dream about, he searched for numerous online tutorials about Python. Python was a famous, beginner-friendly programming language. Most of its code could be read and understood by a beginner. As for comprehending the code, then, they would have to learn the language.


    Python''s syntax was pretty efficient and could help in keeping Joe''s written codes clean.


    Joe thanked his lucky stars that the world he was in had an elaborate iteration of YouTube. He played the Python Beginner Tutorial with the most views since it appeared on his recommendation. To further maximize his learning frenzy, Joe pulled up another tab and downloaded the Python Documentation. Putting on his headphones, he began playing the Python tutorial video. At the same time, he began reading through Python Documentation via the PDF viewer. A smile crept on his face at how effortlessly he was multi-tasking, reading, watching, and hearing at the same time.


    Feeling that he had yet to reach his limit, Joe searched for digital textbooks namely: Python Crash Course and Automate The Boring Stuff with Python. He absorbed everything like a sponge without feeling his head bursting or his mind tearing up to the massive influx of information flowing in. Variables, expressions, loops, strings... he enjoyed immersing himself in this wonderful new world.


    In just two hours, he managed to retain and perfectly comprehend everything he had read and listened to about Python. He simply mastered the basics to the tee. To further apply his understanding, Joe installed both Visual Studio Code and Pycharm to employ his new knowledge.


    print ("Hello World")


    Joe wrote his very first line of code even though he didn''t need to. It was like an initiation for any beginner programmer. With his comprehension, Joe easily made multiple simple programs like a To-Do list, calculator, and calendar. He even recreated Snake Xenzia, a classic game that had aged well.


    "If I use Unreal Engine to develop Snake Xenzia or maybe Minecraft..." Joe felt himself going crazy with his ideas. His fingers were a blur as he stroked the keys, typing long lines of code on the IDE.


    Joe frowned. ''Not enough,'' he muttered and delved into searching for more advanced resources about Python that concentrated on Cybersecurity.


    "Violent Python: A Cookbook for Hackers, Forensic Analysts, Penetration Testers and Security Engineers"... Hmm, it will do." Joe immediately dived into the sea of information. Python can be used anywhere, Joe thought, now when it comes to automation and integration, things will be quicker. Versatility and simplicity were its middle name.


    After devouring the complexities of the high-tier Python knowledge, Joe jumped into JavaScript, a language mostly used in Web Development. However, its uses weren''t merely tethered to Web Development alone just like most languages in the Programming miniverse. He supplemented JavaScript with HTML and PHP for cross-site scripting. SQL for database protection, data analysis, and exploitation. Joe was enlightened about SQL injections and he could hack a server with his lethal injections. He delved deeper into dissembling binaries as he learned of C, Rust, and C++.


    After learning, comprehending, and mastering all those languages in what took about half of his NZT-powered hours; Joe could now consider himself a player in the Metaverse. He could manipulate the very fabric of the cyber world. He was binary and binary was him.


    "That''s cocky coming from me when we have a guy in this universe capable of understanding the essence of any language, be it alien, divine, binary-based, or even demonic. I reckon his name was Douglas Ramsey better known as Cypher." Joe cracked his fingers while stretching his neck from side to side.


    "If I make it big, that guy must be made my slave coder. Of course, with enormous benefits to accompany his servitude." A slightly villainous smirk graced his handsome features as he stored that specific plan in a section of his perfectly organized memories. Everything inside his mind was now expertly and automatically indexed, just waiting for him to call forth any information he wished at any given moment. In short, Joe had acquired "Perfect Recall" and a "Mental Library".


    "Let me try something interesting..." Joe''s fingers once again returned to the keyboard and mouse. His mind was brimming with a cocktail of ideas, just waiting to be put into action. He had already learned enough within six hours to be deemed a dangerous individual.


    Joe began making deceptive emails.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    "Spear phishing attacks through open-source intelligence. Who is gonna be the victim of my boredom?" Joe murmured with a bland expression on his face.


    I am only practicing, he reminded himself.


    Joe used an algorithm to randomize his unlucky target.


    "Poor sod."


    "Kylian Donovan, 32 male, Irish-American Microbiologist, likes living the high life, pretends to be rich, selfie-phile, outgoing, and...interested in 13-year-olds." Joe arched his brows as he navigated through his target''s social media profiles. The algorithm gave him the profile of a creep.


    Just as expected his target responded to him after Joe created something to capture his interest(as a pure 13-year-old diva). A few moments later, Joe easily penetrated the security of Donovan''s online accounts by using his passwords.


    He got his banking credentials, pins, and passwords; while the target remained oblivious to the impending finishing move. With fluid expertise, Joe siphoned the money in all his savings accounts before depositing everything in an offshore account. He didn''t forget to leave the guy in debt since he was eligible for loans and credits. All of that amounted to 10 grand.


    Did he regret it? Nah. Did he feel justified? Maybe.


    Joe felt that he had been far too lenient in his approach. He could have socially ruined the man or even shared some of his secret data with the Child Protection Department, but... The guy had close ties with certain individuals in the upper echelon. He would probably not stay behind bars for long. Predators like Kylian were hidden everywhere in the world.


    There were simply a lot of matters to consider before he involved himself with issues beyond his list of priorities. Only through NZT-48, could he operate under cold logic.


    "Anyway, even though I can''t deal with these types of guys more aggressively, I can still cripple them economically," Joe said with a grin, thinking about his sinister intentions.


    "This is gonna hurt... some emotional damage will be a good treat for you guys." He initiated his attacks, and this time round, he created an identity-tracking program capable of compiling profiles and databases of information of individuals with pedophilic tendencies. From the way he had coded the program, it could even to some degree, draw up the probability of a target trying to act on their sick impulses.


    If one day he improved the program, he could very well sell it to the police, enabling them to quickly and efficiently narrow down suspects in various cases.


    Looks like a poor copy of the system from Minority Report, Joe thought in passing.


    In the remaining 6 hours, he began studying several books on Mechanical Engineering while remotely hacking his targets.


    "These bastards have recycled their passwords in multiple bank accounts even if you introduce closer variations, you will still not be spared from the Spider''s web ensnarement." Joe sneered at how some people were just lousy at setting up strong passwords, constantly reusing them everywhere. Joe''s hacking attacks were lightning-quick, brutal, and untraceable. The funds he acquired on this "hackathon" were only converted into cryptocurrencies.


    Since his targets were people with similar modus operandi, he made sure to shred all of his footprints, even though his actions hadn''t been randomized. He was just like a ghost, a cyber ghost to be more accurate.


    "I also need to run up some network assessments of the shield and hydra network." Then came the most crucial moment.


    "I can''t recklessly try to mess with JARVIS or Tony Stark right now until I truly master all there is to know about complex AI algorithms and Machine Learning." Joe carefully thought.


    "I need to have full confidence when I strike. All in all, SHIELD still has what I want," Joe leaned in with anticipation clinging to his face.


    Joe understood that SHIELD was no soft persimmon. It was going to be a hard and intense cyber warfare.


    As Joe was about to begin his plan, a massive headache suddenly assaulted his mind and he felt as if he was being lobotomized.


    "Argh!" He tightly clutched at his head, almost ripping off his hair, and grated his teeth against each other like a manic patient. He felt as if his thoughts and consciousness were drifting between the realms of reality and unreality, where the concept of time was blurred.


    The drawbacks of NZT-48 after 12 hours had kicked in. Just like any drug, NZT-48 wasn''t perfect and its drawbacks were terrifying if the person taking it didn''t mediate the bad effects.


    It was then that a drop of red blood rolled out of his nose and landed on his desk, just inches away from his keyboard. With trembling fingers, Joe slowly wiped the blood off his nose. This was a sign of the NZT taking a toll on his body.


    ''Such shitty drawbacks...'' Joe cursed inwardly. He had prior knowledge of this happening but how could he know that the drawbacks took effect faster than even its benefits? The withdrawals were something every NZT user had to deal with. It was a good thing that during the initial phase of using NZT, everything was manageable.


    Joe looked at the clock in the right corner of the taskbar.


    "It''s already 8 at night... 12 hours flew just like that," he muttered, his voice a hoarse whisper.


    Grrrr!


    "And here it comes...the creeping hunger." Joe rolled his eyes while donning a helpless smile. His brain and body needed nutrients.


    As Joe tried to rise from his seat, the sound of bones cracking reverberated through the room. His body was stiff like a rigor mortis corpse.


    "My back, my back..." Joe experienced the consequences of sitting in the same position and posture for straight 12 hours without moving.


    He used his hand to hold onto the edges of the desk to support himself.


    "I don''t think I am going to cook." That''s NZT for you.


    "I will order some Chinese then."


    Joe suddenly missed both Gwen''s and Mary Jane''s cooking. And that certainly didn''t sit well with him. With NZT, he was going to cook his own damn meals. His current body needed a lot of improvement and for a training regimen to be successful, well-planned nutritious diets were important.


    As Joe went about his business, he was unaware, or more like he didn''t care, that his hacking session had caused massive unrest and fear in the hearts of the targeted pedophiles. However, that was only a lesser retribution to pay for their sins warranted more than that.


    ***


    [Words 1878]

 [09] Hype Boy and Goose

    "Mmm!" Joe moaned with extreme delight as he took the first bite of the shrimp lo mein. If food was heaven, he could be considered to hold its key already. The takeout didn''t disappoint him.


    He ordered the meal from a reputable Chinese restaurant and paid everything upfront instead of ''on delivery.'' The lack of a phone could sometimes be convenient. At least, it wasn''t a necessity.


    ''Now this is a sweet side effect of hunger...'' Joe skilfully used the chopsticks to pick up the noodles before guiding them to his mouth. The noodles were soft but chewy, and with each bite, he felt their savory taste melt and meld with his palate at an incredible rate. The tantalizing aroma from the container only fueled his appetite and voracity as he wolfed down a good-looking shrimp coated in soy sauce. The flavors, fundamentally different yet harmonious, exploded like a symphony, filling him with contentment.


    It didn''t take more than ten minutes for everything inside the container to be relocated into Joe''s tummy, where it would soon undergo a digestive journey.


    "Now I can watch some late-night news for a minute before sleeping." He sighed in satisfaction while using his free hand to flick on the screen with the remote. The world might end while he was still obliviously sequestered in his room. Joe didn''t know what type of universe he was in, so he was just being cautious, as Marvel wouldn''t easily lack crazy stuff happening every day.


    "Hello, New Yorkers; I am Timothy Dickson, your fellow neighborhood news anchor," a middle-aged man announced with faux enthusiasm.


    "On tonight''s top story, our friendly neighborhood masked vigilante, Spider-Man, has once again foiled a robbery attempt by four ex-convicts on NYPD''s list of notoriety for quite some time." The news anchor''s voice boomed, his face showing a neutral expression. The channel then split into two screens. On the left screen, the news anchor showed a tight-lipped smile, while on the right, there was footage of a man in a blue and red spandex suit swinging from building to building.


    ''That''s pretty scary. Even while on NZT, I don''t think it would be a good idea to try web-slinging my way across skyscrapers, moving vehicles and people. I guess it isn''t Peter''s first rodeo then.'' Joe cocked his brow as he thought.


    "But what if my earlier conjectures about Spider-Man being Peter are wrong? Even the mere thought of it sounds abnormally wrong," He murmured before chuckling.


    "I could always hack him...just to make sure. Jeez, I sound like Elliot."


    Joe watched as the footage changed to show Spider-Man''s fight against the armed robbers. Of course, the confrontation didn''t even deserve to be called a battle. Spidey wrapped them up good, nice, and easy before leaving them as a present for the NYPD.


    "These bastards are going to touch soap for a while unless they have connections to the upper caste of the society. Do correctional facilities really help these types of scum?" Joe clicked his tongue in disapproval.


    "Spider-Man, sometimes I admire you for sabotaging your own personal relationships for the sake of pursuing heroism," he muttered, the words hanging heavy in the dimly lit room.


    Turning off the TV, Joe rose from the couch and headed to the kitchen. He placed the empty container in the sink and fumbled for a nearby glass, filling it with water.


    Gently placing the glass on the counter after quenching his thirst, Joe began to reiterate his plans while formulating new ones adapted to his current situation.


    "Tomorrow, I should buy a phone. If possible, I should also create my own Operating System. Even though I am confident enough to shield my activities from Microsoft, I feel shitty using their OS. Linux is open-source, but it won''t bar me from creating a custom OS, tailor-made for my future operations." With his back leaning on the counter''s edge, he thoughtfully tapped his index against the rough texture.


    "SHIELD runs the world''s greatest covert security network, and I would be lying if I said I don''t have the jitters. I will eventually fall on their radar if I continue growing in power." Joe smirked as he envisioned the advanced exosuits, weapons, and inventions the world would witness from him.


    Hacking SHIELD was both a test, a necessity, and something to stroke his ego. Joe didn''t want to breed blind arrogance inside of himself. He didn''t need that shit. What he needed was the drive, the gut, and unwavering self-awareness.


    "Each of us is so small, it''s only our egos that grow in size. And those with a lot of power in life will often delude themselves into thinking they are special." Joe pursed his lips as he self-reflected.


    [Who am I, where am I, what will I do?]


    Plato''s three philosophical questions suited his new existence. Joe had just begun a tumultuous journey of self-discovery and evolution; it was a journey of multiversal perils. He was currently in a fucked-up universe that made survival both a priority and a miracle for mortal beings. And what was Joe going to do?


    "I am going to be omnipotent if omnipotence isn''t a paradox." Joe slightly smiled when he recalled a particular Marvel self-insert fanfic with a protagonist determined to carve out his own steps to omnipotence.


    "At the end of it all... I WILL SURVIVE!" Clenching his fists to affirm his ambitions, he then retreated to his room. He needed to sleep early since the following day would be extremely important.


    As he lay sandwiched between his comfy mattress and duvet, his consciousness finally entered Morpheus''s realm of dreams and absurdities.


    ...


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    The next day, 10 minutes before the bedside alarm went off, Joe woke up with a jolt. His body, covered in sweat, had his clothes sticking to him like glue while his face resembled a sheet of paper in its pale whiteness. Joe''s breathing was irregular as he took a strenuous air intake before exhaling with difficulty. His beating heart wasn''t in the green either, as it sought the outside world by rampaging against his chest.


    All these negative signs could be attributed to one thing: a bad dream.


    Placing a hand over his chest, he felt the erratic thump of his frantic heart reverberate through his body.


    "Damn. That was a hell of a dream." He furrowed his brow, running a hand through his damp hair in agitation.


    The nightmare wasn''t horrifying because of its content; it was terrifying because of its connection to his own mortality.


    Joe had dreamt of his own demise!


    Thanos''s snap fragmented him, just like the rest of the unlucky half of all living beings in the universe. The dream had felt so real that it had instilled a profound sense of fear within him. How could he even stay calm when his body began being atomized, he remained aware of every single grain of his existence fading into Oblivion.


    And that was not all. Before the snap, he had experienced another death by Snu Snu. Joe had been targeted by Whoremammu¡ªDormammu''s sister¡ªafter a failed super-soldier experiment turned him into a monstrous ogre-hulk variant. The part of the dream was simply illogical and bullshit! However, it still served its purpose as a warning. Joe had to tread very carefully. His safety was a temporary respite unless he became, at least, a star-destroyer.


    Climbing out of bed, Joe glanced at the alarm.


    "10 minutes to 5. Is the dream telling me to always wake before my alarm?" he nervously asked himself with a chuckle.


    Turning off the annoying little gadget, Joe dragged his body to the bathroom to shit his nightmare away.


    ...


    Rummaging through his closet, Joe''s eyes lit up upon spotting some trendy clothes and shoes.


    "What a hype boy," he quipped.


    Soon, Joe dressed up while humming "Hype Boy" from the girl group NewJeans.


    "?Cause I know what you like, boy; you''re my chemical hype boy?."


    ...


    A young man with a lean yet toned physique emerged onto the street, his tailored jeans hugging his form perfectly. A crisp white button-down shirt peeked out from under a sleek black leather jacket that shielded him from the morning chill. He walked with unwavering confidence, his steps deliberate and purposeful. He was a man with a vision, and his undeniable charisma attracted numerous glances from passersby, even the homeless man huddled in a nearby alley.


    Guess what? Joe was in Bully Maguire mode, cough, NZT-48.


    Joe arrived at an ATM near Stop & Shop. The money he had stolen from his targets amounted to $200,000, around 3.53 BTC. From the $200000, he had singled out $10000 for his personal use (the rest remained in his Bitcoin account), and currently, he was about to withdraw the amount he needed for the day.


    ''Those guys from Chase Technical Support won''t ever see the abnormalities of my account. It''s a pity that I don''t want to hack a damn bank, including this ATM beckoning me to do a petty crime.''


    ''Is this what the little robbers of Spider-Man''s turf have to deal with normally?''


    After withdrawing his money, Joe hailed a cab to give him a ride to New York City. While Apple stores were there in Queens, Joe didn''t shy away from a morning adventure to Fifth Avenue. But he soon came to regret it.


    There was a long traffic jam due to the rush hour and the slightly lousy weather.


    Anyway, wasting an hour in traffic wasn''t that bad when you are phoneless and high on NZT. The cherry on top? The taxi driver happened to be French. Driven by his insatiable curiosity, Joe initiated a simple "bonjour," which earned him a scrutinizing look from the driver. He was lucky the Taxi driver¡ªHenri¡ªwas a good man. So, just like that, Joe initially struggled to hold a basic conversation in French, but in just an hour, he became a decent French speaker. To make himself more proficient, he had to learn from a French teacher and master phonetics, intonation, sentence structure, and more. A user of NZT-48 would only need a day to learn a foreign language.


    While exiting the taxi, Joe retrieved two hundred-dollar bills from his pocket and gave them to Henri, much to his surprise.


    "You serious, gamin?" Henri inquired, a toothy grin spreading across his rugged face as he swiftly snatched the bills.


    "How could I not be after you practically taught me some French?" Joe replied in his newly acquired tongue.


    Henri released a burst of throaty laughter.


    "You''re a wonder, mon ami. No one learns a foreign language that quickly, not even in an hour."


    "Well, it''s not that surprising. Freaks like you are popping up everywhere these days," Henri remarked with a heavy sigh before expressing his gratitude for the generous tip and driving away.


    ''I hope that little angel in the picture he kept looking at during the ride will smile when her father buys her something good today.'' Joe smiled to himself.


    That was the problem with NZT. The user would always remain aware of the little details of anyone or anything they consciously or subconsciously observe. With a casual glance and a bit of study of the body language, Joe had easily identified Henri''s status as a single father.


    Joe briefly gazed at the colossal, half-eaten Apple logo adorning the top of the store''s building. ''Maybe I''ll dismantle your monopoly someday,'' he mused, with a hint of a smirk lingering on his handsome face.


    Stepping inside the store, he noticed a sizable crowd browsing through the latest offerings. The iPhone X series was the highlight of the show.


    ''So the phone industry is at this point, huh? Then I''ll snag the iPhone Xs Max, 256 GB variant.''


    "Hey there, you look amazing," Joe greeted a cute Asian sales associate with warm brown eyes.


    "Thanks." The pretty sales associate blushed heavily as she subconsciously fiddled around with the engagement ring on her finger.


    ''Flirting with her will be fun, but I am pressed for time. I have a scythe on my neck all the time. The last thing I want is a Netori tag,'' Joe thought as a mirthful glint shone off his mesmerizing blue eyes.


    "How much is the Xs Max?" He inquired politely.


    "We have the 64 GB variant retailing at $999, 128 GB at $1149, 256 GB at $1499, and the 512 GB at $1649. I''d recommend the 256 GB version¡ªit hits the sweet spot and can handle anything you throw at it," the pretty sales associate, who Joe learned was named Jenni, explained with a professional yet endearing smile.


    "Hmm. Could you give me that one, then? The black color."


    Jenni''s smile widened as she began working on the phone boxes. In a matter of seconds, she placed a white box on the glass counter with the iPhone image printed on the front.


    "Will you pay by card?" Jennie asked with a hopeful glint in her eyes, her inner thoughts unknown. Joe swore he heard the slight, needy edge in her voice. The woman wanted more information about him.


    "Wait a minute, isn''t she engaged? Maybe she''s the thrill-seeking type, and ''engagement'' doesn''t equate to ''marriage.'' That could be her train of thought,'' he pondered.


    "Cash," Joe declared, placing the exact amount on the counter without hesitation.


    Jennie took the money, counted it carefully, and after making sure everything was fine, she issued Joe a receipt.


    "Thanks for your purchase, Joe," Jenni said, leaning forward coquettishly, her cleavage subtly exposed.


    "Can I have your number?" She whispered while her eyes carefully darted around the store to ensure their little conversation wasn''t being monitored.


    "I am sorry, honey. I happen to be a team rainbow rider," Joe smoothly lied.


    That stopper immediately left the tiny woman confused, speechless, and slightly angry that such a fine specimen had fallen from grace.


    Just as Joe was about to leave the counter, he felt something furry graze between his legs.


    ''A cat?'' Joe immediately looked downwards.


    And true to his thoughts, he found a cute tabby cat purring at his feet while sniffing him with curiosity.


    ''Whose pet is this? The owner should be careful and mindful of other people. But why is the little furry so adorable?'' Against all rationality, while falling to the power of ''kawaii'' and ''neko,'' Joe gently picked the cute little furball.


    "Meow, meow." The cute thing purred in satisfaction when Joe playfully rubbed her slightly plump underside.


    "Now, where''s your owner, Garfield?" Joe continued to play with his new friend. However, as if on cue, he heard a worried feminine voice calling from behind.


    "Goose! Goose! Goose!"


    And when Joe turned his head to inspect the voice''s owner, shock hit his mind like a 10,000-foot-tall tsunami.


    Despite his desire to admire the woman''s beautiful features, something else wholly occupied Joe''s thoughts. He lowered his gaze to the cat that he found looking at him in curiosity, mischief, and... like food.


    ''The Flerken¡ªCthulhu 2.0, hentai tentacles monster!''


    Because of NZT, Joe remained calm as he controlled his breathing rate, heart rate, and outer body expression. Off NZT, like any average person with knowledge of the alien cat named GOOSE, he would have thrown the thing miles away from him before scampering out of the store. How can you treat a mini-Cthulhu like a pet?


    "Goose, it seems your partner has come to pick you up," Joe coolly spoke as he stroked the Flerken''s head with ultimate love and care. ''I better pretend not to know what I am holding.''


    The Flerken opened its tiny mouth to yawn, and that''s when Joe swore the NZT left his system as if he were on detox!


    NZT or without NZT, the Flerken opening its mouth was... spine-chilling!


    ***


    [Words 2649]

 [10] Carol Danvers

    "Hey Goose! There you are, you little troublemaker," the beautiful woman exclaimed with a cheerful voice as she approached the awkward duo¡ªa cute yet funny combination of an extremely attractive young man holding onto a literal timebomb.


    The beautiful blond was loosely holding onto a leash that was supposed to be on the harness around Goose''s neck. She wore a plain white T-shirt under a classic denim jacket that was slightly oversized. Below, she sported dark jeans that perfectly hugged her toned legs. As much as she was a stunner, she also had an air of intimidation around her, an undeniably strong warrior beneath that happy-go-lucky facade.


    ''What tall legs!'' He exclaimed inwardly in admiration.


    Joe studied her as much as she also studied him.


    ''At least, it''s not Brie Larson. Blue irises, short blonde hair...this version of Carol Danvers is a serious burner. She looks similar to her comic counterpart combined with her alternate self from Marvel Future Avengers.''


    "Sorry about the cat. Her name is Goose and she''s kind of a rebel," the woman said while smiling at the cat.


    "Meow~" Goose purred in defeat and reluctance as Joe returned her to her owner.


    Goose began to playfully nibble on the woman''s hands as she firmly held her to her well-endowed bosom.


    "Look how she is protesting. I didn''t expect her to like you that much. " the woman laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners.


    Ignoring the cat, the woman smiled at Joe and apologized. "I am sorry if the cat inconvenienced you, mister..." She then tilted her head to the side.


    "Just call me Joe." Joe introduced himself.


    "Oh, Joe. I am Carol, by the way." Carol extended her right hand.


    Joe smoothly met hers for a firm handshake. "Nice to meet you, Carol. Don''t worry about...Goose. I like cats." He grinned down at her, noting her height. ''So she''s about five-eleven, huh?''"


    Carol shook his hand warmly before releasing it.


    "But Goose here, she''s different. She''s more troublesome than most." Her eyes twinkled with a knowing glint as she glanced at Joe.


    Goose purred in dissatisfaction as if she could understand Carol''s words.


    Joe chuckled lightly when he glanced down at the little Flerken lovingly bat Carol''s arm. His eyes briefly lingered on the curvature of her protruding chest. Joe was so discreet that even her superhuman senses would certainly fail to notice his ''covert operation''.


    "Let me guess? You are a rebel as well, right, Carol?" Joe stated, a playful smirk plastered on his lips.


    "How did you know, Houdini?" Carol arched her brows in surprise while smiling. There was something about Joe that gave her the feeling that he wasn''t as simple as he looked the moment she laid her eyes on him.


    From his relaxed posture, confident demeanor, and indecipherable thoughts, she believed that there was something special about him. It was an honest evaluation based on her experience after interacting with numerous intergalactic races.


    ''He''s human, at least.'' Carol thought in passing.


    "A magician never reveals their secrets, Carol," Joe vaguely said in a mysterious tone.


    "Alright, I won''t press, mister mysterious." Carol showed a one-sided grin but she would be lying if she said she wasn''t hooked.


    It was then that an idea formed in her mind and she gave Joe a breathtaking toothy smile.


    "Do you mind guiding me on which phone I should buy? I am a little behind tech-wise." Carol gave him an expectant gaze, just like a cat''s.


    ''Cute.'' Joe admitted inside his mind.


    "I have some minutes to spare so I won''t mind. Our world''s gadgets are pretty simplistic, ya know." Joe decided to help her even though he knew she was just looking for ways to prolong their interaction. As for what she was thinking, he couldn''t put a finger on it.


    "Don''t you think so?" Joe casually asked.


    Carol curiously scrutinized him. ''What''s he getting at? Hmm, I probably don''t care.'' She dismissed the thought.


    "I think Apple is just a monopoly," she scoffed lightly, but it was loud enough for Jenni, the sales associate, to hear. Not like Carol gave a damn about her.


    "This is America," Joe replied.


    "Of course, it is, soldier." Carol wore a funny expression as she spoke in an exaggerated authoritative tone to which they both laughed at the sheer absurdity of it.


    "Even though Apple lacks the large percentage of consumers that its competitor, Android, has, it has quite the loyal fanbase." Joe began to walk towards another phone display. Carol followed beside him, their arms lightly brushing against each other.


    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    "It''s almost like a cult, right?"


    "Don''t we always come back for more due to its diverse ecosystem?" They both chuckled at that.


    "The pricing is terrific," Carol sighed when she read the price tag of a MacBook Pro.


    "We are just poor folks, Carol. Let''s face it." Joe joked as he glanced at the MacBook Pro on display.


    "You are pretty honest about that, Joe," she grinned widely.


    "So what are you looking for specifically from the phone? Are you a light user or a heavy user?" He asked.


    "I guess I''m a light user. I don''t dig games or take snaps of myself now and then...I just want something for calls and SMS."


    Joe pointed at a dummy phone of the iPhone X.


    "Last year''s iPhone X will suit you just fine."


    Carol didn''t even bother to examine the specifications. "I''ll take that one since you recommended it," she declared.


    She immediately surprised Joe as she quickly left him to complete the purchase.


    He looked at her graceful figure and how she easily attracted attention when she walked by.


    But that was not what bugged him about Carol Danvers.


    Just what the hell was Captain Marvel herself doing in New York?!


    It was a confusing scenario but he got logical and tried to deduce her surprise presence at this point in the timeline.


    ''Maybe Endgame is here and I am unaware. Nah, that''s out of the question.''


    ''She could be on a sabbatical retreat from her numerous intergalactic missions.''


    ''I guess she''s allowed a break from secretly protecting the Earth from several war-mongering space races. If she''s on vacation, could she have already made contact with Fury?''


    ''Hmm, that''s a long shot. If she''s enjoying herself then she wouldn''t wanna contact Fury. That one-eyed man would probably nag her good for old time''s sake. Flerken gave him PTSD, so I guess it''s a win-win.''


    Joe looked at the alien cat that was now leashed and cutely rubbing its face against a pair of boobies.


    ''Fury or Talos probably wouldn''t think it''s cute.''


    Joe retracted his gaze from the Flerken and pocketed his jacket.


    ''I hope Gwen communicated my circumstances to the head of the department. I bet she has already done that already. She''s that much of a caring and thoughtful person.''


    Talking about Gwen, Joe started reminiscing how he had met her or more like how she had approached him.


    Had it been fate, coincidence, or just circumstances? He wondered.


    Their unlikely relationship began when the class had been transitioning from junior year to seniorhood. Who would have thought that his attempt at saving Peter Parker from the blows of the bully, Flash Thompson, would have earned him the interest of Gwendolyn Stacy? Flash had been strong, all buff but lacking ferocity. Unlike him, Joe was slender and tall, but still a wild card that could play dirty.


    Joe felt it had been a pity that the ''past him'' didn''t get the chance to use the lines ''Stand proud, you are strong'' after humbling the misguided peon.


    Gwen who had witnessed the whole interaction, had approached him and thanked him even though she didn''t need to do so. The heroine of justice, Joe chortled internally.


    Peter, the scrawny but brilliant kid¡ªthat was how his past self had thought of him¡ª after being saved like a damsel in distress, also became Joe''s friend. Well, you can already guess that the rest is history, right?


    Reminiscing about the past inadvertently made him envision his late mother. It was a bittersweet memory.


    Joe gently shook his head, feeling sad.


    "What got you thinking so hard?" Carol silently approached him.


    "Just a thing of the past," Joe answered without exposing his inner emotions.


    Carol slightly narrowed her eyes at him, trying to read his face, but failed to pick up any vulnerabilities.


    "You are an interesting man, Joe," Carol started with a mesmerizing smile.


    "You wouldn''t wanna say that because..." He shook his head in denial while dramatically closing his eyes before opening them.


    "Because?" Carol moved closer. She was curious, interested in what was going to come off his pretty mouth.


    Joe flashed a charming smile and leaned toward her ear, taking her by surprise.


    "I have a basement where I lock beautiful women like you like any other Friday. Looks can be deceiving, love." Joe whispered slowly, sending shivers down her back. Carol felt her knees go slightly weak when his hot breath brushed against her temple. Her breathing hitched. ''Why do I find that hot? Is it because I haven''t had a significant romantic life in a while?''


    When Joe returned to his initial position, he found her still dazed by his bold words.


    "I don''t care. On another note, I''m not afraid of basements," She said resolutely, her blue eyes shining with defiance and mischief.


    "Be careful of what you wish for, sweetie."


    "You should be the one doing the worrying because I am very strong," Carol said, showcasing her delicate yet toned bicep.


    "I don''t think I can handle you then, O Powerful One," Joe replied, raising his hands in mock defeat.


    There was a brief, comfortable silence between the two before it was broken by the hissing of the troublesome Goose when she spotted a dog being led into the store by a fairly old man.


    If Carol hadn''t been holding her tightly, she would probably have gone to ''greet'' the new friend. Goose was hungry.


    "I think we should go out. Goose misbehaves when she sees a dog," Carol suggested while sighing softly.


    "I see no problem." Joe glanced at the Flerken flashing its fangs and then directed his gaze at the Golden Retriever staring at Goose in silence.


    ''Dog meets Flerken. Food. I can already imagine the horror of those fleshy tentacles retreating with the dog into her pocket dimension.''


    ...


    Outside, the sun had cleared up the gloominess of the sky. The scent of Spring was strong in the air and Joe found it refreshing. The two stood outside the store.


    "I am a Summer person." Carol shared randomly while looking at the sky.


    "You don''t like the rain? I find it nice. But Summer isn''t that bad."


    "I like Summer because I get the chance to tan on the beach."


    "Uh, oh, I didn''t expect that."


    "You just pictured me in a bikini, right?"


    "You are many things Carol, but not a telepath."


    "I can easily read your mind, smartass."


    "Delusions."


    "I am serious."


    "No."


    "Goose, tell him the truth."


    "Meow~"


    "Goose says you are delusional."


    "Hahaha."


    "Hahaha."


    As they stood side by side, Carol sneaked a glance at the man. After their fateful encounter, it was going to be a long time before she met him again. That was the sad part about being Earth''s galactic defender. A moment of leisure would always be short-lived.


    "Hey, do you want my number?" Carol boldly asked, her cheeks reddening in slight embarrassment.


    "You beat me to it. You work fast, Carol," Joe humored her.


    "Just shut up, Joe." She playfully and gently elbowed him. It was only due to luck that he didn''t get the wind beat out of him.


    "It''s +1..." She began giving him the number.


    After finishing, she noticed he hadn''t recorded it anywhere.


    His smug face met her questioning look.


    "I have a pretty good memory." He tapped his temple with two fingers for emphasis. To show her that he wasn''t joking, he effortlessly recited the number much to her relief.


    "Now is your turn." Carol extended her new iPhone X to him.


    Joe took the phone, typed his number, and handed it back.


    "I am saving you as..." Carol had a villainous smirk.


    "As what?" Joe curiously tried to peek only for her to edge away.


    "You don''t have to know." She typed so fast before pocketing the phone in her jacket.


    "Okay," Joe nodded to himself as he studied Carol with a contemplative face. He was deciding on something.


    "Hey, Carol, would you like to grab a cup of coffee?" Joe offered.


    "Like a date on the first meeting?" She winked at him.


    Joe was just about to open his mouth, however, she hurriedly cut him off. "Sure. It''s a date."


    "That''s foul play, ya know," Joe grinned and due to the comfort level they had built between themselves, he briefly palmed her cheek. She leaned in on his warm touch without feeling embarrassed.


    "I am craving some coffee. Just coffee, Carol." Joe reaffirmed his pure intentions and this made her laugh her lungs out.


    "As if anyone would believe that from a man," she chuckled.


    "Let''s change it to beer then."


    "Are you trying to get me drunk in the morning? Cause that''s not going to work."


    "And that''s why I strictly said "Coffee", you get that?"


    The two strangers had their coffee at a nearby Starbucks, talked about random topics, and exchanged some basic information about each other.


    Joe learned about her profession as an Air Force Pilot, and to her surprise, she got to know he was a Biochemistry student at Empire State University.


    The two talked about a lot of things for two straight hours before Joe explained that he had something pretty important to deal with.


    Just because he had an uneventful meeting with a person of interest like Captain Marvel didn''t mean he was going to swoon over her. He had a lot to accomplish under a limited timeframe.


    All in all, Joe felt lucky to have encountered Carol. It was part of the plan. Luck and coincidences contributed a lot to the plan.


    At noon, when Joe arrived at his apartment, someone was already waiting for him.


    Another blonde. And she seemed significantly pissed with him.


    ''Why do you have to pout like Fern?'' He thought while mentally preparing himself for an earful.


    ***


    [Words 2423]

 [11] Bonding with Gwen

    A distant lull of pop music played in the background as Gwen stood outside Joe''s apartment door. The afternoon light streamed steadily, highlighting the worry and tamed anger on her stunning face. She impatiently tapped her foot against the wall as she occasionally looked at her phone. She wasn''t checking at the time or waiting for replies but resisting the sheer urge to type away her temper against Joe.


    Oh God, she missed him, but she just wanted to give him an earful right now. In addition, she wasn''t just going to stroke his ego and inner narcissism that easily.


    As Joe approached her, Gwen didn''t let him be the first to talk.


    "And the prodigal son returns. Where have you been, Joe? It''s been two days since we parted, but you have never texted or called." Gwen crossed her arms as she glared at him. His good looks weren''t going to save him this time around.


    "Oh, Gwen. How are you? You don''t know how much I have missed you." Joe ignored her question and widened his arms for an inviting embrace.


    "Seriously? You never cease to be a jerk." Gwen uncrossed her arms; the fight she had been building up drained away momentarily. She then moved in and encircled her delicate arms around him.


    As they embraced each other amidst the silence, Gwen inhaled his masculine scent as her head lay on his broad chest. Even though his heartbeat was heavenly music to the ear, she furrowed her brows. Her sensitive nose picked up another scent on him¡ªdefinitely of a woman''s. Her female instincts kicked in, and she abruptly leaned back.


    "Where have you been?" She asked, her voice tight. She gazed up at him with a no-nonsense expression, saying, "I ain''t taking no excuses or lies."


    Joe blinked, briefly closed his eyes, and opened them again before sighing. "There is something I haven''t told you since it''s kind of embarrassing."


    Gwen arched her brows, the intensity of her look unwavering. "Go on."


    "A few days before mom''s eternal departure, I, uh, got mugged when I was clocking out from my part-time modeling session," Joe explained with an awkward smile, but his eyes never left hers.


    "My phone plus whatever money I had on me found new owners."


    Gwen''s face softened after hearing his side of the story. She hooked her arms around his neck and lowered his head to her shoulder. "Why didn''t you tell me about it, you stupid lovable bastard?"


    "Didn''t I say that it''s embarrassing?" Joe''s muffled voice floated into her ears.


    "It''s not embarrassing when your safety is brought into the equation, Joe. New York jerks aren''t that forgiving, and most of them..." Gwen began with a worried edge in her voice, the strength of her arms increasing.


    "Sigh, I don''t want to think about it. The world is truly heartless."


    "Uh, Gwen..."


    "Yes?"


    "Have you ever heard of death by a hug?"


    "Uh, Oh, sorry about that," Gwen quickly apologized as she loosened her arms and let his head go.


    "You workout or what? I never expected you to be that strong," he inquired in amazement.


    "It''s all genetics. I have never bothered even to do a single push-up," Gwen proudly proclaimed.


    "Alright, power girl," Joe laughed it off as he inserted the key into the keyhole before turning the knob.


    "Let''s go inside, Gwendolyn. We can''t stand outside all day." He opened the door wide for her.


    "Okayyy." Gwen pursed her lips as she sauntered in.


    Closing the door behind him, Joe rummaged through his package before removing something.


    "I bought you a chocolate bar. Consider it part of my apology." He waved the confectionery hypnotically, from side to side, like a pendulum.


    "Do you always carry those for emergencies?" Gwen scoffed, snatching the chocolate bar from his hand.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    She opened it with practiced expertise before taking a slow bite.


    "Ahh, chocolate never disappoints, unlike you." She happily moaned as she felt the sweet little thing melt on her tongue, needlessly provoking her taste buds.


    "Ouch." Joe took the jab like a pro as if he was Tyson.


    Dropping on the sofa, she carefully closed the chocolate before placing it on the small table.


    "You know Joe? I am no longer angry with you for not pinging me. I can understand what you are going through. It''s tough, but that''s why I exist. I want to share those hard moments with you¡ªto be there. Isn''t that what friends are for?"


    Joe comfortably sat beside her. "I might get emotional if you talk like that, Gwen."


    "You won''t," she smiled in a mock-stern manner. She then leaned her blond head on his shoulder.


    "So you bought a new phone?"


    "Yeah," Joe said with a sheepish grin as he removed a phone box from the bag. "It''s the latest model."


    He gave her the box. "Wanna open it?"


    Gwen examined it for a moment before setting it on his lap. "Not interested. I want to know why you haven''t answered my previous question ''yet''?"


    "What question?" Joe blinked at her, pretending to be oblivious.


    "Are you for real, Joe?" Gwen sat upright and narrowed her eyes at him.


    "Who is she?" She blandly asked.


    "For Christ''s sake, Gwen..." Joe lightly chuckled as he stretched his arms at the couch''s edge. There was a fleeting understanding in the blue of his eyes. How could he not realize what she was thinking?


    "So you are curious about the foreign scent on my clothes, huh? Are you jealous or what?" He smugly grinned down at her.


    Her fingers instinctively darted to rub the back of her neck, a nervous habit betraying the calmness she tried to project. "No, no, no, I''m not jealous. It''s gross. I-I am just curious. Nothing else."


    Joe laughed at her cute reaction, which set her cheeks on fire. "See? You are predictable."


    "Just tell me who it was. Didn''t we promise honesty to be part of our friendship?" She urgently insisted, overwhelming curiosity smoldering inside her pale blue eyes.


    "Alright, I will fill you in on the details." Joe relented, and Gwen smiled in excitement.


    "Her name is Carol. I met her at the store. Her troublesome cat was the link that connected us. It was love at first sight."


    "Oh, I don''t think I wanna hear the rest of your soap opera," a snide remark escaped her lips as she crossed her arms.


    "That was quick. You have never lost interest in hearing my silly stories with girls," He briefly chortled.


    "There is always a first for everything, right?" Gwen said while standing up.


    ''So her name is Carol? Poor girl, she doesn''t know whom she has just entangled with.'' she thought in pity as she headed to the kitchen.


    Joe followed her.


    "Today we learned something interesting from Dr. Connors," Gwen spoke over her shoulder as she opened the fridge.


    "What about it?" His eyes twinkled with interest. Doctor Curtis Connors was a brilliant scientist who created the lizard formula in the comics, and it was also shown in the movie ¡ªThe Amazing Spider-Man. Though his life''s research revolved around reptilian biology, Dr. Connors'' true passion lay in unlocking the regenerative healing properties observed in lizards. After losing an entire arm, it was without a doubt that he would strive to get positive results from his research and experimentation.


    ''While he indeed succeeded in creating a serum capable of perfectly synchronizing human DNA with a Lizard''s regenerative genomes, the aftereffects turned him into a mini-godzilla.'' Joe thought in amusement. But without a doubt, he deeply admired Dr. Connor''s brilliance and daring mindset. Only in Marvel could random test tube serums in a lab get you incredible powers. There was so much potential in the field of biology.


    Back to the present, Gwen took a bottle of milk and a couple of eggs from the fridge and placed them on the counter. She then began rummaging through the cabinets and selected a package containing all-purpose flour.


    "He talked about Lizards, you know, the whole shebang about their cute regenerative biology." She singled out a huge bowl from the bunch of utensils.


    "He has always been interested in that area," Joe said as he leaned on the kitchen doorway.


    "It''s called passion. I find it fascinating. If the professor cracks the code leading to potent regenerative healing, millions of patients will benefit from his research."


    *Crack* She broke two large eggs in quick succession.


    ''I like how naive she can be sometimes,'' Joe mused lightly. ''Always thinking about helping others. While I admire the nobleness behind her thoughts, the people in power tend not to think like that.''


    "Do you think that''s possible? Will others truly benefit, or will the breakthrough in regenerative healing be used to amass billions of dollars from the highest bidders?" He asked. "Just think about it."


    "I don''t mean to badmouth the professor''s impressive efforts for the betterment of humanity. I don''t think the higher-ups of a company like Oscorp would publicize something like that."


    Gwen, who was in the middle of whisking the contents into the bowl, paused and stared at him. "Always the cynic."


    "I am simply a realist." Joe shrugged helplessly.


    "Can''t you embrace idealism a little bit?" She smiled beautifully at him before she resumed whisking the contents into the bowl.


    "Our current world isn''t as idealistic as it seems," Joe said, his voice tinged with disappointment.


    "So you are saying that you don''t have noble dreams of being a hero to humanity like the web-slinger or the Iron Man?" She curiously asked.


    "Nah, I just want to be a survivor in this increasingly turbulent world. In a fight between heroes and villains, who usually is the collateral damage?"


    "Us and the property, I guess," Gwen sighed, stirring the batter intensely.


    "While it''s inevitable, I feel bad about it. Common people are the ones who suffer the most," she then added as she began greasing the waffle iron with cooking oil.


    "Mom had mixed feelings about them while she was a hero herself," Joe spoke with a reminiscing tone.


    "Haha, that''s a woman of steel for ya," Gwen whistled softly.


    A few minutes later, Gwen emerged from the kitchen with a warm smile as she carried two plates laden with towering waffles. Joe also tried to help her, but she refused, claiming that she was unshakable.


    The duo then shared a meal at the dining table while talking about school matters and the events happening in the world. After they finished, they relocated to a more relaxing couch in the living room.


    ...


    "By the way, I talked with Dr. Warren, the department chair, and told him your circumstances. He offered his condolences. He said you can return to school when you feel you have settled your psychological well-being," Gwen began as the two sat closely in the living space. A wildlife documentary was playing on the TV.


    "What can I do without you, Miss Stacy?" He cuddled her as if he was hugging a teddy bear.


    "Praise me more. Tell me how dependable I am," Gwen rolled her eyes while flashing a smug smile.


    "Now''s who''s being narcissistic, huh?" Joe ruffled up her hair. Gwen playfully swatted his hand away.


    "So what''s your plan? You will miss out on many lessons, and you know how some units are a pain."


    "I don''t have any plan to deal with that, but I have another one that is going to set me for life," Joe nonchalantly said while poking her cheek.


    "Did your cheeks get fat?"


    "I suddenly feel offended. Just leave my cheeks the hell alone." She restrained both of his hands so he didn''t think about retaliating.


    "Now tell me about THAT plan that will set you for life." She gave him a ''bombastic'' side-eye.


    "What do you think about being my beta tester for this game that I have in mind?" Joe leaned his cheek against his fist, giving Gwen a thoughtful look.


    "What?" She shifted in her seat to squarely gaze at him.


    "Are you for real?"


    "It can''t get any more real than what I have just said."


    "So what''s the name you are going to give it?" Gwen smiled, excited about the prospect of being involved in Joe''s game.


    Although she wasn''t a gamer like him, his game would surely interest her. Even if the game wouldn''t be phenomenal, she would support him all the way.


    "Candy Crush," Joe exposed a wide toothy grin. "You''re gonna love it."


    "The world is going to love it!"


    ¡­


    [Words 2110]

 [12] Sugar Rush Ride

    "Oh, you seem so sure of yourself. It''s as if you can already foresee its success. Are you sure it won''t flop on you, hehe?" Gwen asked, humor dancing in her eyes.


    "Failure is not an option; it never had a say to begin with." Joe waved his hand in dismissal, a contagious, confident smile on his lips.


    "I like your confidence. With such a declaration, who am I not to believe you?" Gwen turned her head to the TV.


    "So, when are you going to start?" She asked.


    "Soon. I could start today or tomorrow, but I''ve got other urgent matters to take care of," Joe replied while gazing at the TV. A scene of a cheetah chasing a gazelle in the savannah met him.


    "The gazelle''s a goner," Gwen commented with certainty in her tone.


    Joe smirked while shaking his head. "I don''t think so. The gazelle''s gonna survive."


    The race between the two speedsters was still ongoing.


    "Optimism won''t save the gazelle, Joe. We both know the cheetah is the fastest," Gwen countered with a cocky grin.


    "Do you think he''d win?" Joe casually questioned her, his eyes twinkling.


    "All day."


    "Haha, see for yourself." Joe shrugged and continued to watch the race, a confident smirk replacing his playful banter.


    The cheetah was just a few inches away from the thick hind legs of its prey, and then it happened. At the last moment, the gazelle seemed to possess the spirit of Messi as it moved from left to right, slightly disorienting the predator. And with a burst of new speed, it widened the gap between itself and the cheetah.


    The gazelle went turbo effortlessly, leaving the cheetah to eat the dust. The cheetah started panting incessantly as it gazed desolately at the escaping gazelle. It looked regretful and frustrated. What a pitiful fellow.


    Gwen opened her mouth in shock and surprise, words failing to escape her mouth.


    "Throughout heaven and earth, the gazelle is the only honored one, Gwen," Joe laughed, a mocking grin manifesting.


    "That''s useless BS. The gazelle had luck on its side." She hated losing, even when small, useless competitions were involved.


    "That''s a lousy counterargument coming from you. Luck is also an important factor in survival. It''s just like in real life. We may have outstanding goals and dreams, but the probability of achieving them will always remain indeterminable. We can''t always get whatever we want." Joe placed a firm hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed.


    Gwen looked back at him with an inscrutable expression. She sarcastically asked, "When did you become so wise?"


    "Have I been stupid all this time?" He quirked a brow.


    "Somehow." Gwen deadpanned.


    "Hehe, very fun, but it''s not enough." He gave her a humorless smile.


    There was silence for a few seconds before Gwen asked an unexpected question.


    "By the way, has Peter ever reached out to you since that day?"


    Joe shook his head. "I haven''t heard from him. Did something happen?"


    "Not really. It''s just that Peter''s been bunking classes lately. And when he''s present, his mind always seems preoccupied."


    "Are you worried about him?"


    "N-no, I just tend to notice the peculiarities of others without knowing it. And Peter, our friend, has been acting strange." Gwen incessantly nodded as she explained.


    "Yeah, I guess, er, that''s it." She gave him an unwavering stare.


    "How observant of you. Anyway, about Pete, he''s someone you won''t understand easily, even if you want to. He may be dealing with something personal."


    "MJ also hasn''t been looking good."


    "Oh, that''s interesting. Relationship problems, I guess."


    "I thought so too," Gwen intoned.


    "I will talk with him. Maybe he needs a bro talk," Joe promised. He did this partly because Gwen had brought the issue forward and partly because of his innate curiosity.


    "Anyway..." Gwen slowly rose from the sofa before looking down at Joe.


    Joe recognized that ''look.'' "A busy schedule, I guess?"


    "There are too many assignments, and you know that I don''t like slacking off. How else can I top my class if I don''t go plus ultra?" She sighed helplessly.


    Rolling his eyes, he said, "Just say you can''t let my lazy ass defeat you."


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "I have never known defeat." Gwen cast him a smug one.


    Realization hit him when he heard those familiar words. Despite being the speaker, he understood that reference, but sadly Gwen didn''t.


    ''After all, the Elden Ring isn''t a thing in this world,'' he thought. ''Malenia would have been proud of her, but...''


    ''You have never known defeat, right? Then wait to face the tarnished one,'' Joe thought, not taking her proclamation seriously.


    "Before I forget, will you be free on Saturday this week?" Gwen hurriedly asked.


    "What''s for the occasion?" Joe stood up and faced her.


    "Just answer the question, Joe." She crossed her arms and sternly glared at him.


    "Hmm, okay. I will make time for it," Joe smiled.


    "Good boy. My father wanted to have dinner, so you get what I mean?" Gwen tilted her head to the side.


    "So you want us to receive his blessings? Gwen, I didn''t expect you to be such an elaborate planner," Joe mumbled, just enough for her to hear.


    "Joe? Seriously?" Gwen narrowed her deadly eyes at him, and after a few seconds, she burst into laughter.


    Joe listened to her adorable laughter before she stopped suddenly.


    ''What the¡ª''


    "That was awkward," she said while lightly punching his arm. Then she robotically turned around and headed to the door.


    With her hand on the knob, she gave him one last glance and whispered. "Don''t forget to do the dishes!"


    "Roger that, momma!" Joe whispered back.


    As the door closed, Joe couldn''t help but shake his head, a smile playing on his lips.


    Then, he heard the door slowly creak open, only to see Gwen still there, and she was peeking at him. Literally and shamelessly eyeballing him.


    "Gwen? Seriously?" He facepalmed himself.


    "Yeah, Joe. I forgot to say goodbye," Gwen spoke with a straight face.


    "Go away, this isn''t a horror movie. Shoo." Joe gestured for her to disappear.


    "You betcha," she chuckled before closing the door with a slight bang.


    Joe helplessly raised his arms. "Was that necessary?"


    After ensuring that Gwen had already gone through the peephole, Joe secured the locks.


    ''She''s a handful,'' he thought as he entered the kitchen. He then cleaned the utensils they had used before going to his room with a cup of steaming hot coffee.


    He gently placed the cup on the table before settling on his gaming chair.


    "Now then, shall we begin?" He removed a key from his pocket and unlocked the drawer before pulling it back. There were a bunch of blank A4 papers, stationeries, and an unlabeled plastic bottle. Joe unhurriedly took the can that looked like a pill bottle and closed the drawer. He gazed at it thoughtfully before proceeding to open the lid. Inside, there were numerous typical amoxicillin capsules.


    He carefully took one capsule, observed it, and returned it to lie with the rest.


    He powered the rig on, firing up the RGBs into a frenzy as he glared at his monitor. The room was slightly dark and silent, with only the low hums from the cooling fans accompanying Joe. With the monitor coming alive, he logged into his account and looked at the usually stale interface of Windows 10.


    It''s time to craft a custom OS for my own needs. Linux and Windows. This juncture is where I say ''bye bye''.


    With the extensive knowledge he had accumulated after playing around on the net, Joe was confident of creating his own Operating System. Programming had once seemed like a forgotten language of the gods to him, just like a person trying to decipher ancient hieroglyphics. It was initially confusing, but with time (plus NZT), he had become an experienced adventurer in the syntax jungle.


    What sort of nonsense will I share if one day I am suddenly asked to describe my programming journey?


    Joe found himself chuckling at the mere thought. If he told the junior developers and experienced seniors that he had magically become skilled overnight, they would consider it to be bullshit.


    Looking at the screen, Joe opened both Vim and Visual Studio Code in separate tabs.


    Tap! Tap! Tap!


    His fingers began pressing on the keys; the clicks sounded like a musical symphony, eargasmic, to say the least. Lines of written codes began flowing on the screen. He was developing the foundation of it all¡ªa robust kernel.


    A few hours later, under the soft glow of the monitor''s screen, Joe looked at the long lines of code on the IDE. It was the complete kernel code, and there was only one step left to do.


    "Compile." With one tap, the compilation of the refined code began. Joe then checked the time and noticed that seven hours had already passed. It was around 9 o''clock.


    As the kernel code was compiled, Joe began cross-referencing between Nvidia and Intel Drivers. He wanted to design the required drivers for his new OS that wouldn''t interfere with the hardware and overall architecture.


    The pill bottle lid remained open as Joe took another NZT-48 to prolong his work hours. He wanted to complete everything in one go. From UX design to implementing seemingly impenetrable security protocols, Joe went all in customizing an OS that was lightweight yet capable of housing the functionalities of both Windows and Linux.


    Eight hours later, Joe completed all the necessary steps and used one of his USB sticks as a bootable drive. Because Nexus OS is compatible with Windows, Linux, and many other operating systems, Joe didn''t experience any issues during the fast installation process.


    Later, a logo showing an infinity symbol came into view, and Joe smiled since it was also customizable. He could change the logo to anything he wanted.


    The UI is so clean. How about I test the security functions, program compatibility, and repositories?


    I should also be on the lookout for unnecessary bugs if there are any.


    Three hours later, a young man with dark circles around his eyes and a lethargic expression limply leaned back in his seat with his eyes momentarily closed.


    "There is still an hour left before the drawbacks hit me like an enraged African Buffalo," a soft sigh left his lips as he gradually opened his eyes.


    "The time is enough for me to tango with SHIELD!" His otherworldly blue eyes shimmered with insanity, and under the dim light inside his room, he looked menacing.


    He then stared at the empty coffee before shaking his head. "After this, I expect my body to shut down completely for prolonged periods."


    Within an hour, Joe had to find the vulnerabilities within SHIELD''s firewalls and security encryptions.


    And if, theoretically, SHIELD didn''t have any holes to enter through, he would create his own backdoor.


    Without dilly-dallying, Joe commenced his code-pianist journey. In just a few minutes, he accessed SHIELD''s network and began monitoring for flaws and their defenses. Reconnaissance had to be done first.


    Like a war veteran, he remembered to arm himself with a deadly weapon¡ªa custom-built polymorphic code. SHIELD had its artificial intelligence system and a group of cybersecurity specialists who monitored its servers 24/7. However, it only made Joe feel highly exhilarated. He was in for a sugar rush ride.


    He thinly smirked when he realized that after a few seconds of bypassing layers of firewalls, numerous intrusion detection cyber alarms¡ªlandmines¡ªwere waiting for him. They acted as a wall between him and the classified information covering all SHIELD security levels.


    "I live for this shit..."


    Show me more, give me more, defend more.


    The malware he had designed started infecting the alarm protocols and deactivating them as much as possible.


    "As expected..." Joe murmured as he bypassed the last layer of defense and swiftly began downloading everything.


    It was then that they noticed the anomalies in their network. But they were too slow.


    ...


    SHIELD HQ, camouflaged Heli-carrier,


    There was a lot of commotion in the main room of operations as the cyber specialists scrambled to identify the vulnerabilities their mysterious attacker had exploited. Multiple keystrokes were being made in unison, which only increased the tension in the room.


    Agent Maria Hill, dressed in a dark blue jumpsuit with the logo of an eagle on the shoulder, walked into the room. Her steps were quick, graceful, and calculated.


    "All the firewalls have been compromised. From sector I to VIII, I want all the breaches sealed with immediate effect before the director storms in..." Agent Hill issued commands, her voice laced with tension and urgency.


    Talk of the devil, and he shall appear. A black man with an iconic eye patch on his left eye entered the hall with a huge scowl.


    "I am already here, Agent Hill. I heard an unknown attacker compromised our security protocols."


    "Yes, sir."


    The IT specialists momentarily stopped to gaze at the director. Fury noticed this and shouted with an angry expression.


    "Bitch, why y''all staring at? Never seen a red-blooded black man? Pick up your asses and try to locate that motherfucker!"


    An angry Fury was mean; you''d never want to get on his wrong side. The IT specialists immediately began to trace the anomaly. SHIELD had access to almost all communication satellites in the world. They weren''t the most powerful secret intelligence service for nothing.


    "We must recover everything that has gone missing!" Director Fury felt his blood pressure rise.


    "Sir, we can''t track him. Our target is everywhere," a young IT specialist stammered in awe. "They have rerouted their network traffic through innumerable layers of obfuscation."


    "He''s good."


    "What''s your name, soldier?" Director Fury gazed at the young man stationed a few distances away.


    "It''s Patel, sir."


    "Patel, do you think this is Bollywood?!"


    "N-no sir, I am from New Jersey."


    "I don''t fucking care where you are from! Just do your damn work! Understood?!"


    "Y-yes, sir!"


    "Sir, I''ve got something for you," a petite woman with a neat bun loudly said. "It''s a message."


    "I''ve got something too." Another person revealed.


    Director Fury and Agent Hill immediately moved to the closest station where the woman was.


    Fury''s scowl deepened when he saw the text written in a custom pop-up window.


    [Howdy, Director Fury.]


    [How''s your eye?]


    As Fury and Agent Hill read the message, the rest of the room did the same.


    Someone in the room stifled a laugh after reading the message.


    Fury''s vicious gaze immediately scanned the vast room for the culprit, but he couldn''t find them. No one wanted to lock gazes with the one-eyed menace.


    Fury''s face twisted in a grimace as he thought, ''This is SHIELD''s second biggest embarrassment ever since Goose took out my damn eye.''


    To save face, he wordlessly left the room.


    Agent Hill showed a tight-lipped, fleeting smile, which no one noticed before she began barking orders.


    "Use all the resources in our arsenal to find the culprit! We only need one clue to bring them in."


    ¡­


    [Words 2528]

 [13] Feel Like Eleven

    A confident smile spread across his lips as he stared at the folders of classified data uniformly distributed on the desktop.


    "I succeeded. I made the paranoid Fury even more paranoid, hehe. Sadly, he''s almost inconsequential in the cosmic scale of things," Joe coldly spoke.


    He was happy but didn''t show it. Hell knows how he was resisting the urge to release that satisfying evil laughter. (you know, the type with thunder rumbling in the background.)


    "Haha, stop it!" Joe restrained himself when the monster inside wanted out, but he wasn''t going to let him dominate his current moment.


    "This is only the beginning. I have yet to accomplish anything of importance."


    Just as he was about to click on the folder housing S.H.I.E.L.D.''s exotic energy research, a nauseous wave assaulted his whole being. He almost lost consciousness.


    ''Here comes the monarch of all headaches.'' Joe sighed heavily as the pounding inside his head intensified.


    The time limit had passed, but at least he could now resist the drawbacks somewhat.


    Joe touched the red-black blood dripping from his nostrils. This time round, it was more intense than the previous episode.


    "Why does NZT react differently with my system? I feel like Eleven." Joe lightheartedly joked as his eyes struggled to remain awake. He was being overwhelmed by a sudden drowsiness. His body screamed at him to lie down and cease all unnecessary movements.


    Standing from the chair, Joe staggered, almost tripping on his feet as he shuffled to the bed. Unhesitatingly, he languidly dropped onto the mattress and shut down.


    ...


    In a perpetually dimly lit room, Joe achingly turned his sleeping body from an unnatural position, straining his neck. Next, his eyes groggily opened, his pupils widening to adjust to the dimness in the room.


    "How long did I sleep?" Joe lazily crawled to the window and swiped the blind to the side.


    The streetlights had already begun coming to life. Joe spotted the red-orange sun slowly sinking on the horizon. He considered himself lucky that his neighborhood afforded such a luxurious view compared to the city.


    "I slept the whole day. And I''m still alive." Joe brushed his hands over his body with uncertainty in his face. Who could blame him? It was a blessing to stay alive after each night in such a chaotic universe.


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    Letting the blinds fall back into place, Joe climbed off the bed and lit up the bedside lamp before heading to the bathroom.


    Staring at the mirror, Joe squinted his eyes. "I look like a Zom-100 zombie."


    After about fifteen minutes, Joe left the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his neck. He dried himself off and then put on a pair of baggy, comfortable clothes. He picked up his phone and noticed numbered notification icons swarming his lock screen.


    "That''s a lot of messages," Joe mumbled as he scrolled down his screen. There were messages from Gwen, MJ, Peter, and other people with whom he was loosely acquainted.


    "They can wait. My gluttonous stomach takes precedence." He locked the phone, placed it inside his pocket, and aimed for the kitchen.


    He suddenly craved steak¡ªsomething tender and juicy enough. The freezer had no steak, so he left the house to buy some from the local supermarket. He also didn''t forget the milk and some nuts.


    Since he had never cooked something so tender, Joe browsed through various cooking videos on YouTube for guidance. It was a simple process since he had all the ingredients in place. He followed the instructions with ease as he prepared the steak. He noticed that even when he hadn''t consumed NZT, his thinking processes had experienced significant improvements nonetheless.


    The cooking session only took 30 minutes, and soon Joe had a perfectly cooked steak. The tantalizing aroma stimulated his taste buds, making his mouth water. The steak was a deep golden brown, hot and sizzling with juicy fat. Joe gently cut a massive piece of the meat while observing the inner color.


    It''s not red, at least.


    He took the whole piece into his mouth, and his face brightened. The steak was soft, chewy, and, lastly, incredibly¡ª


    "Yummy." Joe nodded in approval.


    He then devoured the entire 1.5 kg steak by himself, leaving him completely satisfied and his hunger finally satiated.


    He did his dishes before heading back to his room. Joe knew he was rushing himself, but he wanted to solve his major energy problem as soon as possible. Relaxing would be for the later part of his story.


    "Now show me what you''ve got?" Joe sat comfortably on his chair as he opened the folder. He quirked a brow when he saw numerous secret files of [Project Pegasus]. There were research notes, complex mathematical equations, and the Light Speed Engine blueprints. The "Light Speed Engine" was a creation of Dr. Wendy Lawson, a Kree native operating undercover in S.H.I.E.L.D.''s Energy Research Department.


    Dr. Lawson was the catalyst behind Carol Danvers'' transformation into Captain Marvel.


    "This is interesting, but I shouldn''t dream about re-creating this magnificent technology with my current resources. I am bookmarking space travel in my plans."


    Joe admired such innovation, especially at a time when technology wasn''t as advanced as it is today.


    Putting the Light Speed Engine aside, Joe looked through the other files. He wanted the arc reactor files, even prototypes, and incomplete research findings would do just fine.


    Joe filtered the files and narrowed down the cluttered mess of experimental research details.


    "The Tesseract," he muttered under his breath as he wondrously looked at the image of a glowing blue cube.


    "Beautiful, but possessing it means a lot of aliens, and an Asgardian God will be hunting my ass. The Tesseract research, though..." Joe contemplated as he continuously tapped his finger against the wooden surface.


    He opened another file, and his eyes lit up in recognition.


    "Found it." There were videos of Howard''s experiments, detailed explanations, doubts, schematics, and research papers. Some felt personal since they were left for Tony Stark, but Joe didn''t care.


    "I thought I would require a year or a couple more to come up with a solution for the energy-hungry Dimension Key. This information has surely accelerated my plans," Joe mulled over his thoughts, his interlaced fingers supporting his chin.


    "I guess it''s NZT time. Damn, I think I am really an addict. Nothing surprising from a drug that works on a physiological and psychological level." Joe grinned as he gulped down another pill. Failing to take the drug constantly was going to fuck him up. You either take it once and give up or continue the process. NZT-48 was devilish, but everything would be fine if he took a permanent immunity shot. If possible, he wanted to independently research the ingredients used in manufacturing NZT-48. He was ambitious in thinking about creating the perfect formula for NZT-48 without side effects.


    "To get a gist of what the arc reactor technology entails at the quantum level, I need to drill Thermonuclear Physics, Electrical Engineering, Mechatronics, and Quantum Physics into my cerebrum." Joe closed his eyes, flexed his neck muscles, and smiled.


    "I have to speak the language of the Starks." An intelligent gleam radiated from his eyes. "At least, give some credit to the Vankos, man."


    ...


    [Words 1236]

 [14] An Equation That Proved The Thought of God

    Have you ever wondered about the potential that lies within a human? It''s pretty ridiculous in itself to wonder. Among all the living creatures on earth, we stand out above others. We are the apex, the dominators of the entire food chain. That''s natural because of our ability to think beyond. Our physical bodies might not be as sturdy as those of wild animals, but our minds are as complex as the wonders of the unknown recesses of outer space. The brain has experienced numerous cycles of evolution, starting from the era of our Neanderthal ancestors. Darwinism may be flawed, but that''s what we have been fed, right?


    Just imagine someone introduces you, a total beginner, to a highly frustrating and difficult Souls game like Sekiro. What will you do about it? Some folks may give up or begin learning from their mistakes by strategizing. The commencement of strategizing against those challenging bosses would instill this crazed obsession of wanting to beat the game. There was something psychologically satisfying about earning those PlayStation 5 trophies after clearing the obstacles that had earlier blocked your path.


    Joe was in such a situation. The moment he decided to cover Quantum Physics, Electrical and Mechanical Engineering, Mechatronics, and Thermonuclear Physics, he compared them to PlayStation 5 trophies. With NZT as the key to unlocking his neural potential, the "four big bosses" were going to be devoured by him. He had a cheat, but so what? Was there a problem with anti-cheat engines(mental blockers) not doing shit on him?


    "This is the scent of knowledge. How refreshing!" Joe manically stared at the digital editions of the books he was going to read. From thereon, thus began the knowledge grind. Joe felt he had entered the "zone"; his consciousness and entire existence seemed to have been separated from the world around him. He was experiencing the ultimate immersion in the world of physics. It was a bumpy road, full of potholes, just like a classic Chaos Theory.


    As days passed, Joe forgot everything about his planned nutritional meals and personal hygiene. His desk was in upheaval, papers filled with mathematical equations and formulas scattered across its surface. Some equations struck a chord with the Theory of relativity, while some formulas used Schrondiger''s theory as a framework.


    "But what about the superposition? If the fermions are entangled, the wave functions will surely collapse..." The dark circles under his eyes had become his only make-up for the past days as he tried to research about the quantum realm. Joe had already figured out the method to create his own version of the arc reactor, but currently, he was tempted by the idea of delving into the forces of the Quantum Realm. The problem with being an intellectual madman, high on a heaven-defying nootropic, was thinking that one more significant issue wasn''t enough. Being in the zone forced Joe to try deducing Hank Pym''s lifeworks¡ªsomething which took a substantial portion of his years.


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    "The formula that ultimately connected Hank Pym to the Quantum Realm is a damn challenge. Even though I wanna know how it feels to alter the atomic relative distance, now is not the time." Joe clicked his tongue in frustration as he dropped the pen down. He looked at his room, which had turned into a horse stable. The room was filled with crumbled papers containing complete and incomplete long equations, as well as rough yet meticulous drawings of his custom arc reactor. They littered the floor, the bed, the desk, and even some were taped to the wall. This state of chaos made the room look like a battlefield with its stale smell of ink and paper.


    Was he trying to come up with an equation that proved the thought of God?


    Joe''s cheeks had become sunken, and his skin had turned paler than usual. He stared blankly at the empty coffee cups and dishes of instant noodles on his desk. He had been holed inside his room for six days, and those meals were his only sustenance. It was slightly unsettling that he could remember the number of days that had passed. The curse of not forgetting without the selective means to toggle it off was sometimes a pain. Joe picked up his phone and checked the time and notifications.


    "It''s four in the evening. I feel bad that I lied to Gwen and missed the dinner arrangement with his father." Joe''s face flashed with momentary remorse before it disappeared as he closed the phone.


    "No, I don''t need to feel bad for missing out on a dinner that can easily be rescheduled anytime. I wish Gwen could understand the pressure that''s weighing down on me, but it''s almost impossible for her. I am cursed with knowledge, and my only focus at the moment is my survival." The thought behind Joe''s logic was selfish and full of self-importance, but sometimes sacrifices were a necessity. There was nothing wrong with a being seeking his own self-preservation. For a person who had once come face-to-face with death, only he knew the significance of living.


    "I don''t fear failure; what I fear is that I didn''t push myself enough," Joe said with emotion as he crumpled yet another paper. But he had to admit that Hank Pym and Tony Stark were different breeds of geniuses. The Pym particles were helpful, especially if Joe wanted to explore the microverse or harness quantum energy.


    "I will be courting death if I go full-on Quantumania." He weakly grinned at the thought.


    Nothing good comes from going subatomic.


    Joe instinctively touched his chin, feeling the growing stubble. He then lifted his arm and sniffed himself.


    "Ew, I smell like shit." His nose scrunched up in disgust.


    Joe rushed into the bathroom to stave off the stench. After a quick shower and thorough teeth-brushing session, Joe emerged from the bathroom feeling fresh and clean.


    "But my room still''s a pigsty." He shrugged it off and went to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and took out a frozen pepperoni pizza. Without warming it up, Joe began feasting on it. He was damn hungry and thirsty. It was only after wolfing down a large pizza and a liter of milk that he felt satiated.


    "Compared to my room, the kitchen looks unused after six days." Joe smiled as he scanned the spotless kitchen sink and counter.


    Knock knock!


    His attention turned to the living room. It seems he was about to have a visitor.


    "But who could it be? Maybe Gwen, since the others rarely come around? Or it could be somebody else unexpected. Fuck the uncertainty principle." Joe murmured before sighing heavily. He really was going crazy after learning all that stuff.


    He carefully walked to the door and eyeballed the peephole. He didn''t have a talking symbiote or spider sense to surveil his visitors, so he did it the old-fashioned way.


    ''Well, who would have expected it to be you out of all the people?'' Joe thought in amusement as he slowly opened the door.


    ¡­

 [15] Maidenless

    Controlling his facial expressions, Joe slowly opened the door. He found Peter fidgeting with a slightly nervous expression on his face. Only after Peter noticed Joe did he try to tame his anxious behavior.


    What is he even nervous about? Joe wondered in amusement.


    "Hey, Joe," Peter greeted him with a slightly shaky voice that he tried his damnedest to control.


    "Hey, bro. How have you been?" Joe smiled as he raised his hand for a rather aggressive handshake.


    Peter imitated him as their hands met for a firm handshake.


    "I-I am the one supposed to ask that question, Joe." Peter showed a self-deprecating smile.


    I am really a terrible friend, Peter thought while shaking his head.


    "Don''t fret. You don''t look good exactly. I am justified in asking the question just as much as you," Joe said casually as he waved his left hand in dismissal.


    ''So he cares. He''s always been like that in almost all the panels and movies. But what''s with this powerful strength I am feeling from his arms? Peter is probably controlling his strength nicely to the levels of a normal person.'' Joe thought, amazed by the latent power resting within Peter''s lean yet athletic frame.


    "So which war zone are you from, Spartan?" Joe decided to humor Peter as he studied the purple bruises around his eyes. He looked like someone who a bunch of street thugs had just jumped. However, Joe knew better than to think the situation was as simple as that.


    Peter chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. A sheepish grin spread his lips as he briefly avoided Joe''s gaze.


    "I got mugged by a gang of low lives for a couple of cents and a few bills. I barely escaped with my life, but I made sure to land one in. Don''t worry." Peter shared his poor excuse of a story, unaware that Joe kind of had an omniscient reader''s viewpoint.


    "Oh, so it was like that. Dude, then you are lucky they let you go," Joe said with a sarcastic grin.


    "Didn''t I just tell you that I escaped after putting up a fight? Why are you putting it as if I''ve been bullied, man?" Peter rubbed his nose with an embarrassed smile.


    "Remember who always protected your skinny ass back in Midtown, Pete, hehe?" Joe joked while laughing, which only served to mortify Peter even more.


    "Chill, man. That''s some dark history we aren''t supposed to talk about. Totally uncool, but I am thankful." Peter grumbled lightly while looking down at his shoes.


    Joe followed his gaze and arched his brow. ''Oh Peter, you''re still struggling to tie your shoelaces perfectly.''


    "Come in. We''ve got pretty much everything to talk about." Joe gestured to the living room with his head.


    Peter nodded before entering. He jumped out of his black Jordans before he began scanning the room. It was a place that he was quite familiar with, but not as much as he would like to think. Peter had been to Joe''s place about two to three times when they had been in high school.


    Escaping the nostalgia, Peter looked at Joe, who was closing the door behind him.


    "You look like shit, by the way. Just like me. So we''re equal, I guess. It''s a draw," Peter began with a smug smile.


    Joe paused and gave Peter an exaggerated side-eye.


    "Nah, Pete. You look shittier than me, metaphorically and... physically. Thou shall not compare a fallen mortal to the divine." Joe flexed his shoulders in exaggeration while pretending to smile majestically. (If that was a thing).


    "Bruh, do you have to make me cringe that much?" Peter widened his arms while helplessly shaking his head. "And I''m not ugly." He added in a spiteful voice, even though he knew his buddy was joking.


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    "Who said you are, man? Aren''t you the person with one of the hottest chicks on campus?" Joe wiggled his brows suggestively. "To pull someone as gorgeous as MJ is something only you can do."


    "Joe, you''re embarrassing me. You already know how many steps I had to go through to get her interested," Peter laughed as he sat on the couch.


    "She''s the first girl I''ve ever confessed to. Honestly, the entire relationship thingy makes me hella nervous," he said while releasing a tired sigh.


    "That happens when you date your long-term crush. And, before we continue, do you wanna get caffeinated?" Joe asked over his shoulder as he went into the kitchen.


    "I''ll take that," Peter replied.


    "Hmmm." Joe hummed before beginning to brew enough coffee for two people.


    A few minutes later, he emerged from the kitchen while holding two cups of steaming hot coffee.


    Giving Peter one cup, Joe settled on a single armchair beside the couch.


    "So what''s the story behind the dark circles, Frankenstein?" Peter curiously asked, albeit with worry in his voice. He thought Joe wasn''t getting enough sleep because of the current saddening loss of his mother. Peter felt guilty about his mistake for not passing by, even to say ''hello'' to a friend when he was in the neighborhood.


    "Frankenstein? Do I look like a monster? Let''s be for real. I am probably Frankenstein''s creator, and you came looking for me." Joe countered with a meaningful smirk.


    "Oh..." Peter got bamboozled for a split second before realization set in. He then wiggled a finger at Joe. "I understood that reference."


    "Anyway, what''s poppin''?" Peter asked again as he took a small sip from his cup, the bitter taste of the coffee making him feel alive.


    "I was pulling all-nighters to develop a game," Joe explained without stuttering. His tone was pretty much believable, and as Joe elegantly sipped from his cup, Peter didn''t find any holes in his words or facial expression. In fact, the moment Joe mentioned that he was developing a game, Peter''s interest was immediately hooked.


    As much as he was a nerd himself, what had truly brought him close to Joe was Joe''s hidden geeky side that many people knew not about. Joe was a closet nerd capable of fooling the masses behind his charming face. Sometimes, Peter felt jealous of how the bastard easily attracted women ¡ª just a teeny bit.


    "I guess it''s something pretty big, right?" Peter asked, his eyes lighting up with curiosity.


    "Not really. It''s a pretty small game," Joe replied, shrugging nonchalantly.


    Peter''s disappointment was palpable as he muttered, "Man, at least show some enthusiasm. You''re doing something cool for yourself and others despite your circumstances... unlike me," his shoulders drooping slightly.


    Joe winged his brows and gently set his coffee cup on the table. "What''s bugging you? I could see it all in your face when you came to my door."


    "Relationships? Love? Life? Family? Or responsibilities?"


    "Is it a relationship problem, Pete?" Joe leaned comfortably into his seat and interlaced his fingers.


    Peter seemed to be struggling to share what was inside his mind as he played around with his fingers.


    Joe didn''t push and gave Peter time to recollect his thoughts.


    "It''s a... We had a fight. MJ and I." Peter finally broke the dam after much contemplation.


    "Oh, go on," Joe urged him in a low, friendly tone.


    "She said that I am selfish, and she''s the only one seemingly investing more in the relationship than me. She says I always come with all sorts of excuses whenever I ruin the plans we''ve made." Peter lowered his head dejectedly. "She thinks I am second-guessing our relationship."


    "So, Pete, do you think what she said is right? Do you believe everything she said is true?" Joe asked, his brows furrowed in concern.


    "Y-Yeah," Peter weakly replied as he stared at his calloused hands.


    Joe sighed heavily, which prompted Peter to look up at him.


    "You''re shouldering a heavy burden of responsibilities, one that you shouldn''t dedicate all your time to, yet you still do so regardless of the situation. You are conflicted between your responsibilities and the matters of the heart."


    "How did you figure out what''s bothering me from just that?" Peter asked, his voice laced with shock and disbelief, his mouth hanging open in astonishment.


    "Oh, Pete, you''d be surprised by how much I know. I am like a walking crystal ball if that makes it easy for you." Joe laughed gutturally.


    "Why did I think for a second that you''ll be holding onto that ''therapist persona'' for this entire session?" Peter rolled his eyes as he shook his head in exasperation.


    "So you thought I''m fitting for a therapist, hmm? That''s flattering. Maybe I should take this thing more seriously." Joe faked a cough as he moved around in his seat to find the best posture.


    "Pete, I understand your dilemma," Joe said in a genuine tone.


    "I''ve been there. Do you think what you are doing is right? Do you think MJ deserves more than you are giving her? Are you still unsure of what you feel for MJ?"


    "These are some questions that I think you have already asked yourself. I know you won''t stop doing whatever you are doing for the sake of those responsibilities that you''re bound to. MJ might be right, but she might be wrong at the same time."


    "At least try to spend more time with her and stop leaving her hanging whenever you make date plans. I say one..." Joe raised a finger.


    "...one date night is enough to make her forgive you, just a little bit, if you do things right without making excuses."


    Peter looked at Joe as if he was the fucking guru or some shit like that. ''Maybe Joe''s right. Maybe I do need to spend more quality time with MJ.''


    "Don''t you think heroes also deserve a break to indulge their loved ones, Pete?" Joe vaguely asked as he leaned forward.


    Peter swore his senses tingled when Joe assumed that posture.


    Pete awkwardly arched his brow before saying, "Hey, even if you want to make your bro feel like the baddest Mofo in the world, isn''t it a bit of a stretch to call me a hero?"


    "I said "hero", not "superhero", Pete." Joe smiled atrociously.


    "What? Did you think you are Spider-Man or something monstrous like the Hulk?" Joe acted bewildered.


    Peter soundly exhaled in frustration as he roughly ran a hand through unkempt, short hair. For a second, he thought Joe had deciphered his secret identity, but seeing his stupid reaction, Peter pushed the worry aside.


    Peter chuckled, unable to resist the urge to add a touch of humor. "For a smart person, you truly have a talent for acting stupid in serious situations, Joe."


    "Stupid? Well, that 50% of me that''s stupid is 100% of you," Joe responded with a low voice, his tone carrying a hint of mischief.


    "Whoa," Peter opened his mouth wide, his eyes widening in disbelief. "D-Did you just roast me?"


    "Sure did. Sent you straight to hell." Joe nodded in a matter-of-fact way. "How''s the burn?" He asked with a humorous smile.


    "Third-degree. It may take a while to recover." Peter dramatically began to check out his skin for nonexistent damage.


    After a while, he sighed deeply."Anyway, it seems you have a talent for giving lousy advice."


    "Lousy advice? I am trying to save you from being maidenless, bro," Joe retorted lightheartedly.


    "Maidenless? You really have a way with words," Peter scoffed, leaning back on the couch, his gaze drifting to the ceiling.


    "But I have a feeling that I''ll be maidenless no longer," he confidently added.


    Joe remained quiet, thinking, ''Now that''s the sad truth, Peter. You''re like the main protagonist we needed in Marvel but with fewer happy endings.''


    ....


    [Word Count 1972]

 [16] Be YOU

    "So, you haven''t told me yet what type of game you''ve been developing?" Peter asked, stuffing a waffle into his mouth. The waffles had been cooked by Joe after Peter had shamelessly begged for some food. A hungry Peter knew nothing about embarrassment.


    ''His metabolism is higher than mine, courtesy of spider physiology,'' Joe analyzed as he bit on an apple.


    "You really can''t hold back when it comes to ''cool'' stuff, can you?" Joe pointed the half-eaten apple at Peter before returning it to his mouth.


    "My buddy''s developing something that''s going to take the world by storm. How can I not be overly curious about your cool game even though I''ve yet to see it?" Peter said incoherently, with food still stuffed in his mouth. Joe didn''t find it uncouth, or something along those lines. Table manners were a myth between bros, hehe.


    "Is it an MMO, platformer, or basic RPG? PC or Mobile?" Peter inquired curiously as he dabbed at the food remnants in his mouth''s corner.


    "Sorry to disappoint you, but it''s a puzzle game. It''s going to have cross-platform compatibility, and that''s basically it," Joe answered before pursing his lips.


    "So-so, have you finalized the codebase?" Peter''s face brightened.


    "Nah, but soon," Joe instantly replied and then added, "Since you seem so much interested, what do you think about being my second beta tester?"


    "Whoa, for real? W-wait, hold on." Peter scrunched up his face as he held out his palm in front. "Who''s the first person?"


    "Gwen," Joe grinned, and his lips widened even more when he saw Peter''s reaction.


    "Tch, she once again has an edge over me. I am disappointed," Peter said with a grunt as he comically cluttered his teeth.


    "You''re pretty obvious, Pete. Why can''t you just tune down that childish competition between you two? I thought you two were done with it since high school," Joe laughed.


    "You don''t understand, Joe," Peter grumbled.


    "Of course, I could never. I''d never had any competition to begin with," Joe said smugly.


    Peter flashed him a tight-lipped smile, pretty much adapted to Joe''s bullshit. "Man, how many times have I stomped you in basketball and WWE? Do you remember the arm wrestles?"


    Joe quieted down, his smugness deflating as unsavory memories resurfaced in his mind.


    "Jeez, dunno why I get happy after silencing you?" Peter chuckled intensely as his fingers tapped on the table like a pianist.


    "How can I win when you use cheats all the time?" Joe said jokingly, his words something a whiny kid would spit out after losing a game.


    "Bro, all the games we''ve played have anti-cheat systems." Peter laughed even harder.


    "Okay, you are the better gamer, jackass," Joe admitted, raising his hands in surrender.


    "Honestly, it feels like a mockery toward the game creators when you speak about anti-cheat systems like that." Joe smiled while shaking his head. How could he not be aware that Peter sometimes likes to fuck over the anti-cheat engines?


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    ''But that is in the past. The current games in the market have unbelievably poor client-side monitoring. The present me will only require a few minutes to sabotage typical game servers,'' Joe thought.


    "What''s the time, Joe?" Peter suddenly asked.


    "It''s seven-thirty," Joe said as he looked at his phone''s home screen.


    "You forgot your phone?" Joe winged his brow with a questioning glare.


    "Mm-mmh. I misplaced it and I can''t seem to remember where I put it." Peter released a feeble chuckle while rubbing his neck.


    Joe narrowed his eyes at him. "I thought you stopped being a klutz overnight."


    "This is a unique situation, haha." Peter nervously smiled.


    "Start saving again." Joe sighed. ''Did he miss a swing and lose his phone? He must be having a lot of fun shooting webs left and right.'' He internally shrugged.


    "Anyway, Joe, change of plans. I wanted to crash at your place, but after that ''therapeutic'' speech of yours, and eating those absolutely delish waffles... oh man, they hit the spot. And¡ª" Peter told Joe as he comically gestured his hands at the speckless plate.


    "In short, you are going back to your lover, right?" Joe interjected, having caught on to what Peter was trying to convey.


    "Yeah, yeah. I need to set things straight with MJ." Peter exhaled heavily. ''Dang, it''s going to be a long ride.''


    ''He''s getting nervous already? How typical,'' Joe mused.


    "Nothing''s wrong with that. Just don''t mess it up, okay?" Joe raised his thumb, his tone tinged with positivity.


    "I won''t. Definitely not messing it up," Peter said in a reassuring voice.


    "Chill, man. You''re allowed to make a mess, just a little... but do your best. Remember, the reconciliation doesn''t have to be a one-day thing since you''re not me." Joe winked at him.


    Peter wore the ''WTF'' expression to that, his face borderline Saitama-esque.


    "Okay, Narcissus." Peter rolled his eyes as he rose from his seat.


    "I don''t know why I am getting the jitters about this, though. I''m worried that MJ¡ª" Peter suddenly started, his face marred with clear trepidation.


    "Pete, have you ever seen a grown man''s ass hair?" Joe held a hand against his mouth, stifling a burst of laughter from bursting forth.


    Peter paused as if picturing something abominable, looked around in confusion, and scratched his head before his face morphed into disgust. "Say what?! Joe, the fuck!"


    "What''s wrong with you, man?!"


    "That''s some fucked-up shit. I don''t even know why the hell I pictured it. Oh gawd!" Peter felt at a loss, but weirdly enough, the tension and nervousness that plagued him had already melted away.


    "Go get her, tiger," Joe murmured while aggressively patting his shoulder.


    "Wow, you''ve even quoted MJ," Peter chuckled softly as he walked to the door. He slipped into his shoes and gave Joe a playful salute, which Joe promptly returned.


    "Go tiger," Joe winked, which earned him a chuckle from Peter.


    "You can stop that. I no longer need any of that shit." Peter began to turn the knob, his laughter receding.


    "Hey, don''t let the responsibilities weigh you down, bud. Peter Parker can go wild and enjoy life sometimes," Joe said, an impassive expression on his face. "Think about yourself. Be YOU." He pointed at him.


    "Oh, never thought you were a sentimentalist," Peter said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.


    Joe''s eyes softened, though he kept his expression neutral. ''I''ve always been an existentialist, you just never knew,'' he mused silently


    "Go on. Or are you expecting a gay kiss from me?" Joe shooed Peter away. The guy was literally stalling on the door while playing with the knob.


    "Ew, unlike your face, you really have a rotted mouth and mind," Peter scoffed in disbelief, shutting the door close.


    "Haha, I am the scarlet rot, bitch," Joe laughed, his voice dripping with mock arrogance. His laughter echoed in the room for a brief moment before he abruptly fell silent, a serious expression replacing his smug grin.


    ''I hope he keeps MJ glued to him. I really don''t want to think she''s as toxic as Tobey''s MJ.''


    "Heck, don''t Peter-tingles help him sense red flags in women?" Joe thought aloud while shaking his head.


    ''Now''s not the time to act like the Lord of Cheese and mysteries.'' He cast away the distracting thoughts.


    "It''s morbin'' time." Joe smiled in suspense, not giving a fuck about copyright issues as he primed himself to build a miniaturized arc reactor from scratch.


    ¡­


    [Word Count 1254]

 [17] Smooth Operator, DIY Arc Reactor

    After Peter left, Joe planned to initiate ''Project ARC'', but plans sometimes tended to run on uncertainty. Joe couldn''t outrightly begin his project because his body was failing him. He had the zeal, the intense fire of ambition burning inside like a stellar core; however, his physical fitness told a different story.


    Despite long hours of sleep, the past seven days had taken a toll on his body, even as his brain''s neural activity was boosted. As a researcher, Joe knew that for the mind to function efficiently, the body had to be in peak condition. He understood that the body and mind were one entity, entirely dependent on each other, and he regretted neglecting his workout regimen.


    "What a bummer, but I''ll set things straight from now on." While eager to dive into his project, Joe knew solid preparations were crucial. It wasn''t worth dying from exhaustion like a typical Japanese salary worker¡ªat least before they get isekai''ed.


    Joe rested for the entire day, and the next morning, he woke up feeling more refreshed than he had in days. After his usual morning shower, he started devising his workout routine. What better way to work out than by imitating the best? Though he admired Goku, Joe ruled out his training regimen¡ªGoku''s Saiyan bloodline made his routines impossible for a regular human. (Rest in peace, Toriyama.)


    "? I am only human after all. Don''t put the blame on me~?," Joe said in a sing-song voice as he considered the next popular candidate. It was Saitama.


    A hundred push-ups, a hundred squats, a hundred sit-ups, and a 10-kilometer run¡ªwere what broke the bald character''s human limits. Of course, plus consistency. Joe wasn''t deluded to think that he could experience the same effects as Saitama''s. The guy was a gag character, so it was impossible to replicate the magic. Saitama could bench press two black holes and sneeze Jupiter clean; there was no way Joe was going to take him seriously.


    Finally, there was Sung Jin Woo.


    "Tsk tsk, the player system. What better way to level up in life than being a player? If the Omniverse is real, then some bastards out there should be having their customized player systems or anything with gamer vibes. How lucky for them to always meet benevolent higher dimensional beings." Joe crossed his arms, thinking about those fanfics from his past life.


    "But it is what it is." Joe shrugged nonchalantly as he decided to incorporate the shadow monarch''s training with his own input.


    "And so, my training arc begins." He cracked his neck and his knuckles. "I am extremely pumped up for this."


    Before he started, Joe didn''t forget his daily dose of NZT-48 paired up with coffee. It was almost a ritual. Joe couldn''t live without it. In this new life, it seemed his purpose was to become a drug addict.


    Joe committed to his training routine and bought dumbbells for his home workouts. As much as he would have liked to register for the gym, Joe felt that it wasn''t worth it in the long run. With his current funds, he could buy all the gym equipment he required and even repurpose a room to fit his aesthetics.


    Just like that, a week passed. From the training, he was awestruck by the extraordinary impact NZT had on the human physique. For instance, the ability to know which muscles to contract to be able to run more efficiently. Similarly, when he performed shadowboxing, he had an intuitive understanding of how to move his muscles and bones in the right way to maximize the strength of a punch.


    Within just a week, he had already begun to see very noticeable gains.


    Presently, Joe was looking at his own reflection. His physique looked more refined than his previous self. His body became toned, and the outline of five pairs of abs was highlighted under the dim light. Joe flexed his biceps, admiring how perfectly streamlined they were. But he had to admit NZT was a wonder drug despite its severe side effects on the common man. Who was he?


    "My name is Joe... Joe Petersen. Two weeks in and I am still alive," Joe sighed as he performed Toji''s infamous posture that brought his back muscles into focus. He then remembered one of Marcus Aurelius''s quotes that says, "When you arise in the morning, think of what a privilege it is to be alive."


    It was truly a privilege to be alive in a world of hidden madness and lurking depths of evil.


    "I don''t feel depressed and my sleep has been good ever since I began working out. No existential dreams anymore. The Spartan program is truly beneficial." Joe grinned at his reflection once more before leaving the bathroom.


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    His room wasn''t the same as it looked before. Currently, it looks like Hephaestus''s workshop with multiple electronics, tools, and drawings sprawled everywhere. His room''s gradual evolution to a makeshift workshop/laboratory had begun the day he decided to create an arc reactor. It was an inevitability.


    "No engineer or researcher needs a clean room anyway." Joe laughed it off a bit as he strapped on a sleeveless shirt. He then wore standard laboratory goggles.


    Joe gazed at the DIY clock on the wall. "Oh, it''s already nine."


    "Oh boy, the inconsequentiality of time."


    "Hmm..." Joe picked up a soldering iron, turned it on and off, and after making sure it was in good condition, he returned it to the workbench. Pfft, he had bought it ''used'' on eBay. How frugal.


    As Obadiah Stane once said, "Tony Stark made the suit using a bunch of scraps."


    And the scientist replied: "I am not Tony Stark."


    Well, the scientist wasn''t wrong and his words were universal. Not everyone was Tony Stark. Tony Stark was his person. He was a brilliant genius for even doing something as crazy as creating a miniaturized arc reactor and an armored suit in a cave. That was a man who usually gave big middle fingers to normal conventions. But let''s not forget that Ivan Vanko, a bonafide physicist, also created his arc reactor and ionized plasma ''whiplash'' at home.


    "Reed Richard''s also an honorable mention, but he''s leagues above the two." Talking about Reed Richards, Joe didn''t forget to keep tabs on any news about the prolific individuals in the world. The supposed Fantastic Four seemed not to be around. They were probably on a quantum-related mission and you know how the Fantastic Four''s mission tended to get ''cosmic''. Darn, how could a mission conducted by a man who built an Afterlife Transporter be simple?


    Anyway, the Fantastic Four were the least of his worries, but the dangers they faced were something he had to be on guard against.


    "Franklin isn''t a thing, however, we have Wanda Maximoff somewhere in Sokovia. Hope she doesn''t go cuckoo early in this timeline. Maybe being her therapist will make my life more positive." Joe muttered as he began dismantling the capacitors, resistors, and connectors on the table. They were all pawned from a nearby shop in his neighborhood. They were dirt cheap.


    "Hmm, slowly..." Joe furrowed his brows in concentration as he began extracting small amounts of palladium. "Small drops of water make up a river" isn''t that what the enlightened sages say? By the end of the extraction process, Joe had accumulated a significant amount of palladium.


    He looked at the Geiger-M¨¹ller counter and nodded to himself. "The readings are within reason. The radiation won''t be causing me harm."


    That''s the reason why he didn''t even try to think about stealing some Tritium from the Osborns.


    The palladium was going to serve as the core and it was cheap compared to Tritium.


    "? He''s a smooth operator. Smooth operator~?" Joe hummed a song as he prepared to repurpose the old titanium alloy he''d scavenged from his collectibles lying around. It was going to serve as the repulsor casing.


    He put the jewellery and watches into the small crucible and fired up the bunsen burner. Joe waited until everything had melted into liquid. The heat made his skin damp with sweat as some rolled off his skin and dropped on the ground.


    Carefully using a pair of tongs, Joe transferred the molten metal from the hot crucible into a doughnut-shaped, heat-resistant container. Once cooled, he skillfully hammered it into his desired shape, his movements precise and controlled, his muscles contracting and relaxing with each calculated swing.


    "? Smooth Operator~?" Joe gave the new reactor housing a once-over before he directed his attention to the refurbished hard drives and speakers. Man, how he felt like Da Vinci on steroids with how everything was perfectly aligning themselves inside his mind.


    For the stability of the reactor, Joe wanted to use powerful neodymium magnets, electromagnetized to provide the necessary magnetic fields. Some hard drives Joe had bought locally while some were taken from the all-purpose...dust bins. You''ll be surprised by how much people like throwing away their things.


    Joe customized the neodymium magnets, coiling them around the reactor housing.


    For the power source, he planned on using lithium-ion batteries. In the final step, Joe began connecting them to the nodes set up on the arc reactor.


    A blue light came to life. It was dim at first, but its brightness intensified with each passing second. The blue light looked ethereal as the miniaturized arc reactor hummed with energy.


    Joe watched all of this with anticipation, his face glistening with sweat and tension.


    "The Tesseract in the palm of my hand," Joe murmured in disbelief as he moved his face closer to the glowing doughnut. "I have virtually solved the energy problem."


    ''Oh, the blueness oddly reminds me of Dr. Manhattan.''


    He could feel the heat radiating off the reactor and he dared not to move further. The deterrent was enough, or else he would get cooked.


    "After all this, why do I feel...empty?" Joe spoke in an unsure voice, his eyes unfocused, as he leaned away from his creation. During the process, he had experienced a rush of adrenaline, fully becoming one with his tools, but now...


    The feeling reminded him of that fateful day in his past life when he finally defeated Malenia, Blade of Miquella, after hundreds of deaths and enduring her taunts. After conquering an almost undefeatable, broken boss, then what do I do next? It was that type of rhetorical moment.


    "Guess this is my post-nut enlightenment." Joe slowly shook his head, his lips stretching into a thin smile. "Did I just make thermodynamics my bitch?"


    He then sighed heavily, like a wizened monk. "Seclusion is over and the first step of Dao Treading has been finalized. Next is the second step of Dao Realization ¡ª converting the reactor energy into electricity."


    Joe was once a step closer to another major breakthrough!


    ¡­


    [Word Count 1811]

 [18] Permanent Immunity Shot

    Despite not having the natural super-intelligence of Tony Stark or Reed Richards, Joe successfully replicated a gadget that could be described as possessing a touch of its unique magic. The miniaturized arc reactor in front of him didn''t have the same level of polish as the later iterations of Stark''s models. However, as long as it served its purpose well enough, everything was alright.


    Now, with a potent energy source in hand, his future plans were going to be much smoother unless there was some deviation and fuck-ups from the universe ahead.


    Joe removed his phone from his pocket and inspected the time. "Whew, I can''t believe four hours passed just like that. My body is still energetic and ready to tackle any task."


    "I am extra motivated," Joe smirked, picking up a bottle of cold water from a mini freezer on the ground. He uncorked the top before chugging the cool drink into his thirsty throat. A refreshing sensation blessed his mouth, the effects transferring to the rest of his sweat-filled body.


    His body was previously hot, partly because of the intensity of his work.


    "Ahh, that hits the spot." Joe sighed in contentment as he returned the empty bottle to the freezing compartment. He had an option of going with an energy drink like Red Bull or something like cold beer, but in the end, he would always choose water. He was disciplining himself; his body and mind had to be in their best states. Getting intoxicated randomly had its risks to be mindful of, especially if he was high on NZT. One drug was already enough for his system. NZT gave him headaches and enough hangovers as it is.


    ''It''s been nearly a week and a few days since I ghosted Gwen and she''s been giving me the silent treatment. It''s understandable from her standpoint. Survival takes precedence, Gwen. I''ll try to mend whatever friendship we have later,'' Joe thought with a brief smile gracing his lips. What he was thankful for was that he wasn''t in a romantic relationship with her at the moment. That would have complicated many things. It wasn''t his intention to come off as cold and uncaring, but circumstances made him do what he did.


    If it had been his former self back on Earth, Gwen wouldn''t even have been just a friend or a mere best friend. The concept of friendship between a virile man and a fertile woman was surely loose from a psychological perspective. If it were not for NZT and his current developed rationality, Gwen would have already been marked.


    ''Shit, that sounds wrong in many ways. Haha, what am I? An edgy wolf pup looking for the fated Luna?''


    Joe shot back those thoughts to some insignificant portion of his brain, deciding to deal with the next step that had to be finalized in one go. His history with dark romance novels was supposed to be a secret.


    "Electrical conductivity, insulation, thermal management, materials required... Hmm, this won''t be taking longer." Joe rubbed his gloved hands against each other as he jumped into work.


    He summoned the Super USB Drive and held it between his long fingers. Its texture was still smooth, but its outward appearance was duller than its pre-instantiation state. The USB Drive needed a lot of energy to look more vibrant.


    "No worries, I''m gonna feed you more than you could ever ask for." Joe chuckled at his own absurdity. Here he was, talking to a USB. Maybe he needed a therapist, or maybe he was already going insane.


    Looking at the mini arc reactor, Joe momentarily touched his chin in thought before he began nodding to himself. "Hmm, it''s possible."


    His mind was being swarmed with images, diagrams, and calculations of the path he should take. Since he already had all the necessary components, Joe started with the current transfer. The power output of the miniaturized arc reactor, stated by Tony during Iron Man I, was about 3 Gigawatts, which equated to 3 gigajoules per second. Joe had yet to measure the accurate power output perfectly, but he didn''t fret over it. It was something that could be done within seconds.


    And Joe did measure it, further confirming Stark''s confident words. Understanding how much energy was being produced by his arc reactor was important. For the medium of conductivity, Joe had to break his own wallet to buy thick high-voltage copper wires that he manually electroplated with silver. The wires were perfectly insulated and soldered to the arc reactor with extreme-current connectors. The connectors consisted of superconducting materials made from a foreign element called Aegium. It could withstand extremely high levels of voltage.


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    Joe went all in, designing a custom water-cooling kit and high-quality fans to mitigate some of the heat. For the USB Drive, he used a port made of thermoelectric materials that connected all the voltage wires to the USB.


    He also incorporated a circuit breaker into the system. Of course, there had to be some way to monitor the arc reactor''s output, which could easily reach millions of kilowatt-hours. It was all for stability to have a voltage regulator.


    "Now for the final touch..." Joe had to kick-start the entire set-up. His hand hovered over the red button, the switch connecting the reactor to the lithium-ion batteries. Sighing to himself, Joe didn''t hesitate and pressed the button. He then jumped backward, away from the thermoelectric domain of death, a full-body shield clasped in his hand.


    Joe waited a few seconds for any malfunctions or Murphy''s backshots, but nothing outrageous happened. He had already factored in something worse happening, but it seemed his worries had been unnecessary. He even had a shield in case an explosion occurred. Logically, Joe knew the shield wouldn''t have helped much against a mini-nuclear explosion.


    Peering from one of the shield''s sides, Joe exhaled soundly, expunging a bit of the tension inside his muscles.


    "The thermoelectric conductivity and electromagnetic induction systems seem currently stable," Joe noted as he moved closer to the beautiful set-up, shield still in hand. He felt like a Viking with Valhalla''s subtle calls in the background, in case he got compromised.


    Minute droplets of sweat trickled down Joe''s forehead as he stared at the arcs of vivid blue electric sparks surrounding the USB Drive.


    "Beautiful." There was only one word to describe the scene.


    The dangerous electrical buzz in the background was like a symphony of death. Joe remembered that it was called an electric corona.


    "What''s the current and temperature?" Joe curiously wondered before looking at the monitor placed in the corner of his room. Graphs and measurements were being displayed in real-time of everything happening at the workbench. Prior to the set-up, he had built an experimental algorithm capable of analyzing real-time voltage, current, and temperature from the sensors. The algorithm was just a small project that was going to culminate into something complex and advanced later on.


    "Everything works. I''ve defied the odds once again." Joe settled in his gaming chair before he began rotating around.


    ''Man, that was so intense. Do I even have a breather? No, I forced myself into this. It''s something I must do. For myself,'' Joe contemplated, conflicting emotions showing on his face.


    ''And for my bloodline~'' The mere thought made him spring up from his seat.


    "Of course, there is also that. I guess that''s for the Future Joe to deal with. How irresponsible of me." Joe wanted to run a hand down his face, but he recalled that he still had his gloves on.


    "That was close." He meticulously removed the gloves and placed them in a bin.


    "It''s 3 O''clock, hmm." Joe looked at the time and concluded that he had fed enough energy to the USB Drive for subsequent extraction.


    He wore heat-insulation gloves, switched off the entire set-up, and meticulously removed the USB Drive from the port after waiting for some time.


    ''It''s still cool even after being bombarded with that much current and heat,'' Joe mused as he brushed the USB Drive against his palm.


    ''Its silver color has now improved, gaining more vibrancy. The current material composition is still unknown.''


    "I can only make further observations if I continue to feed it with energy," he analyzed, even though he already had a significant grasp of the details regarding the origin of the USB Drive. Nothing was truly absolute.


    "Now, how about I cure my morning headaches and withdrawals? Permanent Immunity Shot, here I come." Joe grinned as he walked to the gaming desktop. He inserted the USB drive and began looking for the Limitless series, a continuation of the movie version.


    "Damn, the series cost a leg. A whole 300 bucks just for one scene, pfft." He shook his head, amusement radiating from his eyes. ''That godly entity probably likes money. How ironic.''


    "But at least, I''m not poor." Joe removed the bills and, like usual, they disappeared to god-knows-where. He didn''t even bother to hypothesize their unknown destination.


    Anyway, Joe opened the folder and jumped straight to the last episode. He then paused the scene, showcasing the syringe containing the counter to NZT''s negative effects.


    Just like the previous time, Joe experienced the familiar feeling of his hand passing through a probable spatiotemporal, membranous film. In one jerk, he snatched the Permanent Immunity Shot from another reality.


    "Drugs aren''t cool, but whatever." Joe shrugged, examining the pressure syringe in his palm. After a moment of scrutiny, he aimed it at his neck and, in one swift motion, injected the cure.


    "Er, it ended just like that?" Joe arched his brows. "Isn''t this part where I am supposed to turn blue or become a monster?"


    ''Of course, the Permanent Immunity Shot isn''t a super soldier serum, dipshit.''


    ''Anyway, that''s another problem solved. And it''s my cue to continue abusing NZT without worries. Hakuna matata.''


    Standing up, Joe walked over to the window and opened the blinds. The skies were gray, pregnant with brooding thunderstorms. The streets below didn''t lack people as they rushed to wherever they were going to avoid the possible rainfall.


    ''Well, the meteorological reports are hardly wrong, right?'' Joe scoffed internally before his focus returned to the skies. Its grayness quite resembled his inner self. Maybe a bit darker.


    BOOM! Thunder roiled in anger, transient flashes of lightning coloring all of existence.


    "The road ahead is going to be interesting." Joe cracked his neck before closing the blinds.


    ¡­


    [Word Count 1744]

 [19] Chamber Of Reflection

    *Ping*


    Joe got distracted by the sudden vibration of his phone.


    ''I should have put it on silent. Didn''t I put it on DND?'' Joe scratched his head as he removed the phone from his pocket.


    It was Peter hollering at him on iMessage.


    [Yo, how ya doing?]


    [Are you busy? Like right now?]


    "Hmm, what''s Pete up to?" Joe wondered aloud.


    [I''m doing well. What''s up?] Joe texted back.


    [Are you blind?] Peter asked with an accompanying emoticon.


    [I haven''t checked in with my ophthalmologist lol.] Joe typed back.


    [I''m being serious, man. Are you busy?] Peter


    [Nah. Do you plan on taking me on a date?] Joe smirked.


    [Bleurgh, bitch *vomit emoji*] Peter immediately responded.


    [Anyway, it''s Aunt May who''s bugging me to invite you home. She says you haven''t eaten her meals for a long time.]


    [Oh, Aunt May. That was unexpected. How''s she doing?] Joe arched his brows, then nodded to himself.


    [She''s doing fine. Just come to our house at eight, alright? Gotta go.]


    Joe scoffed at the last message before pocketing his phone. There was no need to reply. Who knows what Peter was currently doing? Of course, saving the day as always.


    "I had initially planned to visit Gwen and give her a surprise gift, but it seems Aunt May beat me to it." Joe sighed softly as he walked out of his pigsty.


    The silence enveloped him, dense and oppressive, interrupted only by the resounding echo of his footsteps in the expansive emptiness of the two-bedroom apartment. Grotesque shadows loomed in the dimly lit hallway, casting a chilling atmosphere. Yet, Joe remained unfazed by the eerie surroundings; the shadows and unusual tranquility embraced him like a comforting presence.


    He looked at the room opposite his: his mother''s chambers¡ªher little queendom, as she liked to call it.


    A reluctant look marred his handsome expression as he stared at the door¡ªthe barrier that separated him from the place where her essence still remained. Since he had come to the apartment, Joe noted he had never ventured inside. Not because of fear, but...


    "Subconsciously, I still don''t want to face the reality that she used to come out of this room," his voice cracked with raw emotion, deep and somber.


    "I need to face it. Getting lost in devouring a lot of knowledge and swimming in experiments won''t shield me forever from facing what I should have faced a long time ago." Joe exhaled heavily.


    He walked to the door, his hand hovering over the knob, and resolutely opened it. Slowly by slowly, inch by inch, he pushed the barrier away.


    Joe''s eyes drank in the features of the familiar room that felt somehow disconnected from his memories. While Gwen''s and Mary Jane''s presences were subtly imprinted into the room, Veronica''s essence pervaded every particle, every inch of space. Joe caught a whiff of lavender and old wood¡ªher specific perfume mixed with her unique feminine scent, something he could never forget even if he wanted to.


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    It calmed his inner demons, brought him tranquility, and erased the disobedience and rambunctious hidden within him.


    "Mum..." Joe''s eyes watered, the tears stinging his eyes as he fell deep into the abyss of nostalgic memories.


    The old vases that had never faltered in the face of time remained standing in the corner of the room. Joe smiled, emotions welling up in his heart. ''Those were her favorite vases. Touching them was akin to courting death." A short chuckle escaped his lips before he released a short sigh.


    Joe examined the well-made queen-sized bed, courtesy of Gwen and Mary Jane. Absent-mindedly, he walked to the old but classic wardrobe and tentatively swiveled it open.


    The bundles of clothes that had initially been there had lessened since Veronica had contributed most of her wear to charities and orphanages. She''d claimed that it would be a waste not to share her surpluses with those who needed it.


    It was then that Joe spotted an unassuming box hidden at the left bottom of the wardrobe. Without thinking, he gently picked it up.


    "Not heavy." He commented on the weight as he finally placed it on the bed.


    "Let''s see what you hid here, Mom." Joe began to peel the box open.


    There were a bunch of her accessories like earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and that sort of thing. Digging deeper, his hand clutched on something rectangular, small but compact.


    "Oh, I am speechless. I didn''t expect you to keep these." Joe smiled in embarrassment as he held the perfectly framed photo. He intensely gazed at the picture of a little boy, barely six years old, cutely smiling with childish innocence. His clothes were dirty and soiled, but it didn''t diminish his unbelievable cuteness, especially that gap between his two small incisors. Kneeling beside him was a young woman, so beautifully divine to be called a goddess. She exuded both angelic and demonic charm as she held the young boy in a loving, motherly embrace. From her expression, she seemed not to care about the dirt below her, and what mattered most was the bundle of joy she was holding. Her gorgeous smile mirrored that of the young boy, pure and unadulterated.


    Joe could feel her eternal love radiating from the picture, bombarding his heart with an extremely warm feeling. A lone tear escaped his eye and splashed against the glass protecting the photo.


    We were having a good time at the beach.


    "Am I crying?" Joe stuttered as he sniffed back the snot that was threatening to roll out. He then quickly wiped the dampness on the glass with his shirt.


    "She would have definitely laughed at me." Joe exhaled deeply, his voice trembling, sending shivers through his body.


    "Don''t worry, I won''t cry anymore, mum." Joe declared as he smiled innocently like his six-year-old self. That''s what his younger self used to say to her whenever he injured himself or got involved in a fight.


    "Memories," Joe muttered under his breath as he returned the framed photo to the box. Continuing his search, he found other pictures, fragments of a shared past.


    "What could you be doing right now?" Joe gazed at the ceiling, complicated emotions in his eyes.


    "Looking over me? Or enjoying your time in the afterlife? Guess I''ll never know." He shrugged to himself before returning the box to its initial position. He then proceeded to sit on the bed and look through everything that reminded him of her warmth.


    "That''s enough. I''ve made peace with her. I should continue being strong for her," Joe declared firmly.


    A short breeze whistled past the blinds, making the room cooler.


    ''The window''s still open?'' Joe thought as he went to close them. ''I guess Gwen and Mary Jane forgot about it.''


    Giving the room a prolonged, last glance, Joe finally left the room.


    ''I never would have expected that I would stay there for two hours. But I still got some time before visiting May,'' he mused before leaving the house.


    ''I''ve never taken a walk in Central Park or Times Square. It won''t hurt to enjoy the scenery, have some moments for introspection, and maybe think about life. It would be a letdown to die before¡­'' Joe intensely shook his head at the last thought.


    ''I''m not dying again. Never!''


    With a deep breath, Joe stepped out into the evening air. The wind carried the scent of summer as it blew across Joe''s face, slightly melting down his stuffy emotions.


    Placing the AirPods into his ears, Joe took out his phone and opened a music app he had developed. He hit the shuffle button, and, as luck would have it, a song more in tune with his mood started playing.


    "? When I met you in the summer ?"


    "? Took my heartbeat sound ?"


    His lips curved into a smile. I like that song. It has aged well like fine wine.


    ...


    [Word Count 1350]

 [20] What does it mean to be鈥?uman?

    When we talk about Times Square, what really comes to mind? A lot of things, right? Let''s face it, Times Square was a monumental place, its mark even more indelible in Hollywood movies. Joe didn''t know how many times he had seen Times Square in various movies, television, and social media. In his past life, he would never have sheltered the thought of visiting New York City due to his busy student schedule, but currently, it was no longer a dream. Joe took a subway train to 42nd Street.


    ''So this is it.'' Joe smiled as he sauntered out of the exit, his eyes devouring the metropolitan beauty in front of him. He noticed that he stood out like a sore thumb or like a bouy among the sea of people moving here and there. New York had a lot of wonders, and Joe''s striking features held a magnetic allure. What else would you expect from a kingcard?


    "Ma, look at that person. Lemme talk to him," a cute little girl, around six years old, gently tugged her mother''s cardigan while pointing her chubby finger at the approaching Joe.


    Joe noticed the child heading his way. When he inadvertently heard her words, he didn''t know how to react.


    "Honey, didn''t I tell you not to point at others? It''s bad manners!" The mother hissed a warning at her child.


    "B-But he looks like Prince Charming." The kid pouted, her cheeks puffed in indignation.


    As they passed near Joe, the young mother cast an apologetic smile at him, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment and shyness.


    ''Children. Maybe only the infinity stones can stop their innocent but painful truth.'' A wry smile played on his face. ''But I am no Prince Charming. That''s an insult, kid.''


    ''Being ogled is honestly becoming a clich¨¦. I didn''t ask to be this attractive; the fault lies with my mother''s blessed genes and my nonexistent father whom I''ll never know,'' Joe thought in grievance, focusing on enjoying the moment instead of caring about the unholy thoughts of his admirers.


    The cacophony of sounds coming from yellow cabs, tourists, street vendors, and common New Yorkers intermingled to create a unique musical vibe. Joe removed his AirPods to fully immerse himself in the free Dolby Atmos demo. The surround effect was so surreal that he felt like closing his eyes. There were times when Joe would totally abhor extreme noises, but the current situation was an exception.


    Anyway, what truly stood out at Times Square wasn''t the people or the oddly mesmerizing noise; it was the billboards. Kaleidoscopic neon lights flashed like Prometheus'' torch, showering life at the nexus of the world. Joe nonchalantly walked as he admired the numerous advertisements on the gigantic LED displays. The most exciting of them all were the 3D Live Ads. There was a 3D model of a stunning, sultry woman smiling down at him. Joe thought he had suddenly become Ryan Gosling in Blade Runner. Well, he still preferred 3D over 2D girls any day.


    There was a huge green dragon smoothly and majestically coiling around a building. Props to the Samsung team. ''Never expected to see Linley Baruch coiling around a random building in New York.'' Joe chuckled in his mind, finding the comparison somewhat goofy.


    ''On second thought, I think I will use these billboards in Times Square if I succeed in developing Candy Crush Saga. What better way to advertise than to showcase my creation at the crosswalk of the world? Then bam¡ªsocial media acts as the medium to spread the news to millions. Hypothetically, it could take minutes, hours, or days for the game to become a hit.'' A shrewd glint flashed in Joe''s sapphire eyes.


    He knew he was thinking big, already visualizing his success, even though he had yet to put in the work. He was blatantly counting his chicks before they hatched. Joe thought that sometimes cracking the eggs and frying the yolk was better than waiting for the hatchlings.


    Joe wrinkled his nose as he inhaled the pungent cocktail of perfumes, exhaust fumes, and street food scents ¨C pretzels and hot dogs from the vendors. ''Oddly suffocating and nauseating,'' he thought, ''but nothing I can''t handle.''


    He passed by a group of European tourists taking selfies and snaps of their surroundings and posting them on their social media.


    ''That never gets old in any universe.'' Joe pursed his lips as he enjoyed the scenery with no destination in mind. He subtly observed the people, their communications, and their intermediate environment. Joe was subconsciously studying human nature. As much as there were tourists, the majority were workers, people who were looking for daily bread. Their faces and expressions differed, but Joe noted that they all had one thing in common.


    ''They are like programmed machines, exuding the stench of monotony from doing the same set of actions almost every day just to pay the bills. We humans are truly more machine than the machines themselves. That''s the sad reality. What does it mean to be... human?'' Joe''s eyes seemed lost, drowning in the abyss of existentialism as he tried to decode the bizarre notions of humanity. There were things that even with NZT he couldn''t know and comprehend. Was that what it meant to be human? To be like sheep? To be incapable of knowing? To be oblivious?


    ''Humans will always be curious despite their ignorance,'' he mused. ''Without guidance, they flock together like sheep, procreating. They love, betray, sacrifice, save... Yet, why do my soliloquies sound like a divine entity''s contemplation when I''m no different from them? How amusing.''


    "Hello, can you please give me the vanilla ice cream?" Joe asked as he stopped by an ice cream cart.


    "Here you go, buddy," said the middle-aged vendor, handing Joe the ice cream cone with a practiced flick of the wrist after skillfully scooping it and placing it on the cone, all while wearing a friendly smile.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Joe took the cone, the cold sensation immediately cooling his hand. "Keep the change," he said, handing over a bill that was a little more than necessary, intending it as a tip for the hardworking vendor.


    "Thanks a lot, man," the vendor replied, his smile widening with gratitude. "Enjoy your day!"


    Joe didn''t say anything and continued his leisure walk while slowly licking the creamy vanilla. ''Now I know why Selena Gomez and Black Pink sang an Ice Cream advertisement on Earth.''


    He felt like he had returned to his childhood days, recalling how he used to annoy the hell out of his mom to buy all sorts of ice cream and confetti. But who was Veronica? If he had been a little devil child, then she had been the Devil Empress.


    As Joe enjoyed his evening with a cone of ice cream, an almost unnoticeable seismic tremor traveled across the road. Joe didn''t sense it at first, but the second time, he felt the anomaly and it nearly made him lose his ice cream. The nerve.


    ''What the fuck was that?'' Joe furrowed his brows as he looked around, trying to figure out if others had also sensed the tremor. However, he was disappointed as almost everyone was trapped inside their own bubble of tapping at their phones, taking photos, or just minding their own business.


    Joe knew that something was bound to happen. The first tremor, which he hadn''t noticed, could be ignored, but the follow-up...


    ''This is Marvel. Imma start leaving this place ASAP! If I were Scarlet Johansen overdosed with CPH4, I could just stop the darn time in Times Square...'' Joe began jogging away, forgetting his sweet ice cream as it hit the ground. He had to prioritize his safety. Was he being paranoid? Nah, the sixth sense, a consequence of shitting NZT on a daily basis, could never be wrong.


    He wasn''t Spidey with his broken spider-sense, but what he had was instincts. Joe had seen death in the eye succumbing to it once, tasting its flavor. He was kinda experienced in that aspect.


    As Joe swiftly and deftly zigzagged around the throngs of people, it was then that the inevitable struck.


    A full-powered tremor made the whole Times Square tremble as if it was suddenly the end times and the Four Horsemen were about to ascend from hell. Then, an underground explosion followed next, creating a shockwave blast that minced every living being close to the source. A rain of blood, unsightly entrails, and disconnected limbs simultaneously painted the world red.


    ''I can''t stop. I can''t stop.'' Joe witnessed the events of this gilded hellscape, his adrenaline-fueled legs propelling him forward. Murphy, like a stalking predator, picked his timing well and assaulted Joe''s behind. Unlucky, Joe was still caught in the shockwave, his figure hurtling through the air like a cannonball until he collided with the door of a Black SUV. The impact knocked the wind out of him, causing him to expel a geyser of spit, crushed innards, and blood from his widely opened mouth.


    ''Argh! Fuck!'' Joe cursed inwardly, white-hot, excruciating pain assaulting all of his pain receptors. With the little bit of rationality he still held onto, Joe knew that shouting would be detrimental to his current state. He tried to silently brave such pain he''d never felt before.


    "Multiple rib fractures, a collapsing lung, and a flailed chest... Once again, I am FUCKED!" Joe''s ragged voice rasped out the bitter words as shards of broken glass protruded from his back like grisly spines. His battered body tumbled down from the shattered window above, each sickening impact on the unforgiving ground sending fresh lances of agony through his shattered rib cage.


    Despite his perilous state, a crimson grin stretched across Joe''s face, perhaps due to the delirium of unbearable pain. Rivulets of blood seeped from the corners of his mouth as he gasped for air, each stuttering inhalation a tortuous reminder of the collapsed lung straining to draw breath.


    Joe lowered his eyes to his slightly caved-in chest, his shirt horrifyingly distorted by the blast. He could feel his blood pressure slowly dipping and all the muscles in his body screaming at him. The pain was akin to numerous invasive acupuncture needles pricking every surface of his skin.


    His consciousness was slowly slipping away as he instinctively coughed up clotted blood in front of him. His collapsing lung protested in defiance, shooting another mighty dose of unbearable pain to his brain. Joe was using all his willpower not to faint. He couldn''t faint. He had to hold on until...


    Until...


    ''Am I going...to die...again?''


    ''Was all that talk about not dying, stupid and baseless¡ªjust useless drivel?''


    "Hahaha! Outta my way, pieces of cheap meat!" An energetic voice tinged with an unmistakable Russian accent, reverberated in the plaza.


    Joe, his hands flailing by his side without strength, achingly turned his head to look at the bastard who found it funny to bomb Times Square. The fucktard was the perfect example of ''I don''t want peace; I always want trouble!''


    "Spider bug, you can''t dream about catching me!" A gigantic man dressed in a high-tech exosuit designed like a rhino bellowed as he began spraying high-caliber bullets omnidirectionally, without care. A manic grin deformed his ugly face as he swatted a small car that was on his way with his mechanical arms, sending it rolling over a few unlucky survivors.


    Pandemonium broke loose as dead bodies littered the road like a fucking death parade!


    ''Rhino! Rhino! It seems that I won''t need to send you to the zoo but instead, eat you alive!" Joe struggled to stay awake as he branded the brutish man''s face into his memory.


    Turning his head away, Joe knew that if he didn''t get immediate medical attention, then he would be a goner. As a former pre-med student plus NZT, how could he not know that he had begun exhibiting paradoxical chest movements?


    ''Sigh, it is what it is. If I die, then the lingering regrets I would leave behind would be enough to induce insanity.'' Joe weakly coughed as he thought.


    Joe''s blurred gaze shifted to the side, where his hazy vision made out distant figures frantically snapping pictures of the devastation unfolding before them. He mentally recoiled in disbelief, disgusted by their callous disregard for the potential loss of life. Didn''t they know that anytime soon they could become collateral damage? Or were they just insanely stupid?


    As time waned, blackness began dotting his vision like a blanket. The last thing Joe saw was a blur of red and blue swinging towards Aleksei or Rhino.


    "Who let the Rhino outta the zoo? It seems zookeepers are slacking on their jobs!"


    Joe closed his eyes, a small smile spreading across his lips. ''That''s so like him. Always talkative! If I had a web shooter, I would have webbed your mouth bro.''


    There and then, Joe breathed his last or so he thought.


    Death stood by, arms outstretched, ready to embrace the child''s soul. But at the last moment, she retracted her arms and smirked. Then, like dissipating fog, her figure vanished as if she had never been there ¨C wordlessly, for in death, there is eternal silence, no need for voices.


    In the grand calculus of the Multiverse, Death noted a singular anomaly: a soul that bore her essence yet resisted her embrace. Intrigue flickered within her, but it was fleeting. Who knows how many death escapees were there in the infinite realities? The child wasn''t special in that regard.


    ¡­


    [Word Count 2258]

 [21] Trauma-ma-ma-ma

    Smoke and fires rose from the battlefield, bringing chaos and suffering to the city. Cars and bodies alike lay sprawled on the ground, twisted into unrecognizable wrecks beyond any hope of repair. The sound of sirens and wails of despair could be heard in the background as the fight between Rhino and Spider-Man escalated. Rhino''s punches landed like sledgehammers, each blow sending shockwaves through the ground. Spider-Man, however, darted and weaved like a shadow, always just out of reach.


    "Why are you moving a lot, dammit?! Stop for a second, I just want to squash you like the little bug you are!" Rhino bellowed in anger, a deep scowl plastered on his face as he swung his metallic appendages left and right. There was no rhythm, no grace, it was just pure, unfiltered chaos.


    "Come and catch me If you can, Mr. Holmes on steroids... but you''re still a lite version!" Spider-Man countered with equal venom as he maneuvered around Rhino, trying to find a blindspot.


    ''That suit screams Oscorp and the high-tech companies in the game. The guy has a typical villainous manner of speech and a mean look. When are these types of villains going to decrease?'' Peter thought as he shot strings of webs at the artillery, specifically targeting the nozzles.


    Rhino tried to shake him off; however, Peter was faster, suffocating the high-profile guns with a barrage of webs.


    "Oops, no guns for you, for the sake of fairness, Igor!" Peter shouted as he sidestepped Rhino''s aggressive attempts at getting back at him. ''Oh, that''s getting old.''


    "Who''s Igor, puny little guy?" Rhino roared, his voice like a thunderclap, reverberating in the air. While being playful as always, Peter lost concentration for a second, and Rhino capitalized on it. He waved his mechanical arm as if he was swatting a fly, and sent Spider-Man flying into a billboard.


    ''That''s gonna hurt like hell. Bracing for impact!'' Peter crashed through the LED displays, feeling the jarring impact in every bone. Fragments of shattered screens rained down, while sparks erupted around him, casting an eerie glow over the wreckage. A groan escaped his lips as he struggled to untangle the slithering electric wires, Rhino''s blow still viciously gnawing at his intestines.


    ''This reminds me of that silly garage experiment,'' Peter thought, gritting his teeth against the stinging electrocutions as he fired a web toward a nearby lamppost. Pulling himself free from the wreckage, he swung toward Rhino, each arcing motion steadily building momentum.


    "Yo, guess who''s back?" Peter teased as he used both of his legs to administer one mighty, high-velocity kick that made Rhino lose balance.


    "Rhino, confused." Several question marks appeared above Rhino''s head, wondering how the little guy could recover so quickly from his super-powered blow.


    "Confused? You''re just far from Zootopia, bad guy." Peter took that time to coil multiple webs around Rhino, starting from obscuring his vision and going down, all within a few seconds.


    Rhino struggled against the superb restraining effect of the sticky and super-durable webs; however, the more he struggled, the more Peter entangled him.


    "Phew, that was close. At least, no one was in the vicinity, or else things might have gotten pretty dangerous." Peter exhaled soundly as he landed with a thud near the incapacitated nemesis, his center of gravity low.


    Peter then looked around at the ruined landscape, and the scope of the tragedy struck him like a searing brand, scorching his soul. He heavily furrowed his brows at the cruelty done by the new villain. ''I came late again. I could have saved them before they lost their lives, but...''


    ''...I couldn''t.'' He clenched his hands in anger and helplessness. The sad truth was he couldn''t be everywhere at the same time and it was only due to luck that he had just finished dealing with some notorious thugs and happened to be swinging around.


    ''Now is not the moment for self-pity. I need to save as many victims as possible before NYPD and medics arrive.'' Peter breathed in and out to calm himself, gradually loosening his clenched hands.


    Fortunately, he found some survivors. Some were trapped under rubble, some were still locked in their cars while some were still unable to move due to shock. While he was helping the injured and directing them to safer places, away from the massive sinkhole in the middle of Times Square, he noticed a Black SUV. Just like most of the cars in the vicinity, it was battered up horribly. What caught his attention was the deep crimson stain splattered on the cracked window and the ground below.


    His spider senses tingled as if they were on overdrive. Tendrils of death loomed over the area yet a weak beat of life still subtly pulsated; there was a survivor. Compared to other victims, Peter didn''t know why the unknown survivor made his heart beat in apprehension.


    At a distance of about three meters away from the ruined SUV, Peter came to an abrupt halt, his eyes locked on the prone figure lying at that grotesque angle.


    Peter opened his mouth, appropriate words failing to escape. He unconsciously stretched out his trembling arm at the seemingly dead figure, disbelief and shock coloring his expression. He then took a hesitant step forward, his own body fighting against him, trying to prevent him from facing the truth. Flashes of Uncle Ben lying on a pool of his own blood appeared in front of Peter''s eyes, the images from his past overlapping with the grim present scene.


    "No, no, no... No, simply NO!" Peter''s voice shook, denial evident in his tone. He hurriedly knelt in front of the dying man.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "T-This isn''t him. I-I am just having an illusion. Everything that''s happened is all a bad dream!"


    "That guy rarely leaves his house, so this can''t be him. But why? Why do they look the same?!" Peter''s trembling hands moved behind his head and removed the mask. At that moment, he believed that if he removed his mask, he would have a clearer and more defined view of the dead man.


    "It-It is him. Oh God, No!" His lips shivered as he found something that only Joe could pull off. A cool and bloody grin even in the face of such life-threatening injuries. How could anyone but Joe pull off such an annoying, goddamn smirk?!


    "Why did it have to be you, bro?!" Peter spoke in a low voice, his sadness and guilt so unimaginable to manifest in reality. His vision was blinded with unshed tears as he touched Joe''s pale skin, cold and almost unfeeling. Peter didn''t care about the blood wetting his hand as he tried to confirm the authenticity of Joe''s death.


    "His blood is still warm. So it hasn''t been that long since..." Peter lowered his head in defeat, fear and guilt eating at him.


    ''Why wasn''t I there? Why am I so damn slow? Why did my friend have to die? Why did I waste time? Why? Why? Why?'' Peter clutched at his head, despair spreading on his face.


    You could have saved him. You could have saved ''em all. You are useless even with your powers, Peter Parker. You aren''t taking your responsibilities seriously!


    Peter''s enhanced hearing suddenly picked up a distant beep amidst the anguish and regret. Joe, who had flatlined earlier, began showing signs of life, his heartbeat so faint it could be ignored.


    "He, he is alive?!" Peter opened his mouth wide, hope glimmering in his brown eyes.


    "He is alive!" He clambered to put his ear against his deformed chest. The sight made him wince as if he was the one with the condition.


    ''He''s desperately fighting for his survival, for his life. Damn bastard, won''t even let death take his handsome soul away? There''s hope. He needs emergency treatment asap.'' A serious expression settled on Peter''s face, his lips pursed in a thin line. He quickly put on his mask with urgency and scanned the vicinity. The sirens were no longer distant. The medics were nearby.


    Peter quickly moved to the ambulances, no longer hesitating as Joe''s life hung by a thread that was being held hostage by the fates.


    "Here! Emergency!" Peter shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. "There''s a critical survivor who needs immediate treatment before it''s too late! Their life is hanging by a thread!"


    The group of medics, just arriving from the ambulance, froze. They were partly stunned by the suddenness. Mostly, they were taken aback because the legendary Spider-Man was directly addressing them, his masked eyes burning with urgency.


    "Why are you all just standing there like statues?" Peter demanded, his voice cutting through their hesitation like a whip-crack. "Enough of this Medusa act - follow me, ASAP! There are lives on the line, and every second counts!"


    The medics, their earlier shock evaporating under Spider-Man''s scorching urgency, scrambled into action. Stretchers, oxygen masks, gloves - they hurried to grab the necessary lifesaving equipment.


    Soon, they arrived at the place where Joe was lying like a dead person.


    The medic leader''s voice rang with authority, yet remained eerily calm as she completed her triage examination. "Severe chest deformity from trauma. Multiple rib fractures on the right side. The patient is experiencing paradoxical breathing." Her steely gaze swept over the team. "We need to get him to the ER immediately before it''s too late."


    With deft yet featherlight movements, the medics secured an oxygen mask over Joe''s face, cautious not to exacerbate the grotesque deformity of his chest. Seconds felt like agonizing eternities as they carefully transferred his motionless form onto the waiting stretcher. With urgency, they moved him to the ambulance.


    Peter discreetly followed behind. He wanted to make sure that Joe arrived at the hospital in one piece. It wasn''t his time to leave the world yet.


    ''You have to hang on, man. Fight it! You have to refill that health bar like in the games you love!'' Peter pleaded in his mind, secretly praying for some miracle from divine intervention. He couldn''t let someone close to him die... again!


    ...


    The hallways of NYCMC carried the sterile scent of antiseptic, and an unmistakable song of life and death played like a lullaby. There was a palpable tension in the hospital''s atmosphere as monitors beeped incessantly like the grim reaper''s bell.


    Concealed in a hoodie over his spider suit, Peter paced around the trauma bay, occasionally glancing towards the operating room.


    A woman, probably in her late twenties, dressed in dark blue scrubs gently placed her hand on Peter''s shoulder.


    "He''s gonna be alright. Just wait here for the good news," the nurse said in a sympathetic voice.


    "Have faith in Dr. Strange. His surgical skills are one of the best in the hospital." She added with confidence, her hand briefly leaving Peter''s tensed shoulder.


    Peter briefly stared at the nurse''s name tag stuck on her blessed bosom. "I-I believe my friend will pull through this crisis. As long as there is hope, even the slightest bit, I will always believe, nurse... Esmeralda."


    "Oh, I guess there goes my self-introduction when I have this tag on me..." She arched her brows before briefly pointing at her name tag, a small chuckle escaping her thin lips.


    "Haha, sorry. I didn''t mean to do that really. I hope it isn''t creepy or anything." Peter shook his head with a nervous smile.


    "Gee, of course I know, Peter." Nurse Esmeralda waved her hand in dismissal, unbothered. There was a momentary silence, only broken occasionally by the EKG readings.


    "So, uh, can you tell me more about this... Doctor Strange? Is he really called like that?" Peter asked after some slight hesitation. He wasn''t that good with conversations, especially with strangers. Well, as for Spider-Man, that was a different story entirely. The mask held too much power not known to man.


    "Oh, I can debrief you. It''s okay," Nurse Esmeralda replied with a friendly smile. "And it''s his legit name. Full name''s Stephen Strange."


    "Ah, his name''s really strange," Peter said in an unsure tone.


    "I know, right?" Nurse Esmeralda shook her head and added, her voice dripping with humor and certainty. "But I trust his expertise and genius intellect despite his ''strange'' name."


    "O-Okay." Peter released a harsh breath as he craned his neck to have a better look through the glass windows of the OR. He couldn''t see anything, but he could hear them. The sound of the clanks of scalpels and forceps against the trays, the instructions of the head surgeon to the nurses, the beeps...


    Peter immediately cut off his auditory senses from that room. He couldn''t. It was hell to even listen to the sounds. It only added fuel to his growing guilt, fear, and worry.


    What mattered to him was Joe''s final run against death!


    Bzzz!


    Peter looked at his phone. Someone was calling. Looking at the contact''s name, Peter ran a hand through his face, his eyes red with emotions.


    ''How am I going to explain to Gwen? She''s...''


    "Hello? Yeah. The OR section. Trauma bay. Okay." Peter answered the call before pocketing the phone. It was a brief call anyway since Gwen had already arrived at NYCMC.


    ...


    Meanwhile, Joe''s consciousness and soul were stuck in limbo, the in-between, and his destiny unknown. How will he escape from the blankness of oblivion? From the supposed suspended animation?


    ¡­


    [Word Count 2248]

 [22] I Rebuke Death!

    It''s peaceful up here. Is this heaven or merely a figment of my imagination?


    Joe felt himself float in an indescribably vast sea of infinity ruled by only nothingness. His astral being, like a higher form of existence, seemed severed from his body and reality itself. In this domain governed by oblivion, there was no pain, no worries; there was only unadulterated freedom of the mind. Despite being disjointed from his own body, he still remained aware that he was standing on a precipice of life and death. It was only due to Joe''s raw will and survival instincts that the scales of Anubis had yet to tilt to the inevitable.


    There was dark thought within him, subtly goading him to just surrender to the void and become one with Death. However, there was something else counteracting the effects of negative thoughts ¡ª it was a beacon of light. The fragmented bits of his memories, especially those of his deceased mother, supported him, tethering him tightly to the world of the living.


    "Joe, please don''t let our family''s bloodline end with you. Even after I die, I want to be a grandma in the afterlife." Those words were from a sad memory when Joe''s mother had laid on her deathbed, hope all lost, waiting for her clock''s ticking to halt. It had been a joke, but it somehow resonated deep within his soul.


    No, I can''t fall here. The major events are even yet to start and I have already been fucked over by an uncontrollable fate. Ah, have I always been a side character in this life all along? Thinking that everything will always go the way I want.


    No, my thinking had been flawed, I get it. In this world, everyone is a main character, but at the same time, they can become a background NPC at any moment. I refuse this fate. I rebuke death! Death wants me to be her eternal consort, I say fuck her!


    Slowly, Joe''s soul and consciousness began returning to his body, away from the in-between, from life-and-death uncertainty. The fog surrounding his mind started dispersing as his indomitable human will rooted him to life. Sensations that he thought he had lost gradually came back; the numbing pain hitting his torso like a freight train. The pain confirmed to him that he was no goner, but a survivor. The sounds of beeping monitors that he was oh-so-familiar with, started ringing in his ears like an annoying alarm notification.


    When Joe tried to flutter his eyes open, it felt as if the weight of the world pressed down on them, preventing him from seeing his surroundings. Nonetheless, as difficult as the task was, Joe finally managed the struggle after a few seconds. His eyes were momentarily blinded by the sudden influx of light from the fluorescent lights above before he could analyze his new environment. As Joe blinked against the brightness, his vision registered multiple white walls surrounding him and the antiseptic scent present in the air made him shift his focus to his own body.


    ''This looks so serious. How did I survive that?'' Joe winced in pain just by gazing at his deformed chest dissonantly wrapped up in bandages and tubes crawling into his body. There were IV lines on both of his hands, one was administering saline and the other was pumping blood into his veins. Joe felt a dull ache from the points of insertion, but it was pretty ignorable.


    As Joe attempted to shift his position in the hospital bed, a sharp, disconcerting pain originating from his spine, assaulted his nerves, making him tightly clench his teeth.


    ''Darn it. That''s horrible. They probably gave me thoracic epidural anesthesia, but it''s clearly not potent enough to counter my almighty pain.'' Joe sensed something inserted into his spine.


    ''Phew, it''s good to be alive. If my spine had been severely injured to the point of destruction, then I would have become another Charles Xavier or Devoe. Wait...'' A rare, intelligent light reflected off his eyes as realization hit him.


    "I am not entirely hopeless." His voice was hoarse when he attempted to talk, his throat and mouth feeling somewhat dry.


    As if on cue, the door opened, and a dark-skinned, beautiful woman dressed in navy blue scrubs peeked in before fully entering. When Joe observed her complete profile, he couldn''t help but give a thumbs up to the God of culture. Her magnetic hips were curvy, not at all subtle as they strained against her trousers. When it came to the measurements, Joe put a stop to his full-body evaluation. ''I know it''s a big letdown to the depraved souls out there.''


    "Hopeless, so you are awake." The nurse smiled down at him, her steps sultry yet measured as she approached Joe.


    "So you heard that?"


    "Yeah, I did."


    "I''ve got to say, you have a nice pair of ears." Joe returned the smile, making the nurse pause and tilt her head to digest the compliment.


    "You''re smooth, but thanks for the compliments." She donned a tight-lipped smile while looking everywhere but him.


    "I am Nurse Eve, Mr. Petersen." She introduced herself before adding dramatically, "And you... are one lucky guy."


    "I thought so too." Joe shrugged lightly, but that simple action backfired on him as pain shot through his torso.


    "Go easy there, mister. You''ll only hurt yourself if you make unnecessary movements." Eve rushed to the bedside and began supporting Joe. She gently fixed his posture and tugged the pillow into a more natural position.


    "There, there, all good." She sighed as she finally put Joe into a suitable position. Joe inhaled a whiff of her jasmine scent and found it relaxing, alleviating some of his pain.


    "You are a great nurse, beautiful, and young. Bet most of your patients enjoy having you around," Joe said casually while giving her a sidelong glance.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    "God, you''re making me uncomfortable in a good way. But I''m not as young as you might think." Eve giggled, shaking her head happily.


    "Since you look quite energetic with the compliments, I''ll go fetch Dr. Palmer for you. She''s been meaning to examine you in case you woke up. I just took the liberty to have a convo with you since you looked kinda cute and strong despite the severity of your injuries." She placed a hand over her mouth, hiding her heart-stopping smile as she began drawing back.


    After Nurse Eve''s departure, Joe''s amicable smile swiftly evaporated, his expression transforming into an inscrutable mask, his eyes radiating an icy chill potent enough to freeze Antarctica itself.


    ''I can''t stay in the hospital. It makes me even more sick in my gut. I''ve never liked any hospital ever since I was young; it isn''t surprising.'' Joe pressed his head more into the comfy pillow.


    ''Tch, being weak is not funny, now that I''ve been given a reality check. It''s now that I understand what it means to be an ant or a pig awaiting slaughter.'' A dark, chilling smile formed on his face as his mind raced with plans that could be executed the moment he left the hospital. As much as Joe wanted to pursue revenge for himself, he treated it as a burden, both psychologically and emotionally. He was still a non-player in the game known as Power. Joe had to calculate everything step by step before he made use of Rhino.


    Haha, it will be too lenient if he dies just like that. He will be useful, so useful that he will wish to die instead.


    In the grand scheme of things, Aleksei was just a stepping stone for him, insignificant compared to other heavy hitters in Marvel. While his threat couldn''t be ignored at street level, Joe treated him as a mob.


    "I am also a mob to some degree," Joe exhaled sharply, his brows furrowing as he felt his throat feel stuffy and irritating.


    Joe''s attention was piqued as the door steadily opened, and a familiar figure entered ¨C a woman with wavy brown hair neatly coiffed into a bun, two loose strands framing her temples. Though her pale green eyes exuded focus and determination, they could not conceal the lethargy that swarmed her expression. With his enhanced visual acuity, Joe discerned the faint bags under her eyes, artfully concealed by subtle makeup. He had to strain his vision and analytical skills due to his less-than-optimal condition.


    "Hello, Joe," she said softly with her hands disappearing into the pockets of her lab coat.


    "Hi, Dr. Palmer. How long has it been? Days? Weeks? Forever?" Joe smiled, though it was strained.


    "You used to call me like that when you were angry or pissed by something or someone. It makes me feel like a stranger. Between us, there are no titles, only our names." Dr. Christine Palmer briefly closed her eyes before opening them with a tired sigh. A pained expression marred her mature features. She was hurting inside, seeing her deceased best friend''s son in that poor shape. However, she had to be strong for herself and him. There was a reason she was a doctor who cared for her patients, but Joe wasn''t just any patient.


    "I am not angry with you or anything. I understand your pivotal role in the hospital. It''s something else entirely putting me in a bad mood, Chris" Joe slightly shook his head before shifting his gaze at the opened window, the city''s skyline looking as beautiful as ever.


    A shadow of a smile appeared on Christine''s lips as she briefly studied the monitors beeping beside Joe. "Do you want to talk about it? I''m not pressing."


    "Don''t worry, it''s nothing major. I just feel lucky that I''ve escaped death. That''s all."


    Christine examined him, looking for any abnormalities. She then opened her mouth, slightly hesitating, before she continued. "I-I don''t know how I would''ve lived with myself if you had died shortly after Ronny."


    "I''m glad you care about me very much, even if I don''t deserve it," Joe replied, his previously cold eyes now radiant with warmth as he met her gaze.


    "Oh, Joe," Christine''s expression mellowed, her eyes moistening. "I want to give you a loving hug right now, but I fear that I''ll give you a death hug instead."


    "That''s strangely funny, Chris," Joe coughed when he tried to burst out in laughter.


    "Try not to go intense or it''s gonna hurt, Joe," Christine said soothingly while palming his bruised hand.


    "You''re strong." She sat on the chair beside him.


    "Well, thanks. So, what about the road to recovery, eh?"


    "Oh, that''s... It''s going to take long depending on many factors."


    "What''s your estimate?"


    "8 weeks, just for the fragmented segments of your affected ribs to recover. As for full recovery, that''s gonna take months. However, it can be narrowed depending on how you respond to respiratory therapy and how well your immune system is. And..."


    "I think I understand the whole process. I get it." Joe didn''t take it to heart.


    "You''re taking it like a champ," Christine smiled and ruffled his slightly damp hair.


    Since she was done with her shift, Christine seized the opportunity to bond with Joe until the sedatives lulled him into slumber. Tenderly, she placed a small kiss on his forehead before carefully adjusting the sheets over his sleeping form. Only then did she take her leave.


    Over the next few weeks, Joe continued with his slow recovery while getting almost daily visits from a guilty-looking Peter, a red-eyed Gwen, and MJ also swung in sometimes after her acting gigs were over. Joe enjoyed the visits as they staved some of his boredom as he bided his time. And on June 31st, when he regained a fraction of his mobility, Joe ''escaped'' the hospital. It seemed someone didn''t want to pay the medical bills.


    ¡­


    [Word Count 1992]

 [23] Elysium I

    If there was a place that has never failed to be busy, then it would be the hospital, a place where invisible forces of life and death, of light and dark, fought over true dominion. The New York City Medical Center has never lacked an influx of emergency patients being rushed, and amidst the chaos, Joe could easily slip away from the lax security. However, Joe didn''t opt for that option.


    Joe chose the nighttime as the most suitable hour to leave that hellhole. Stumbling out of the hospital was a monumental effort. Joe had to be conscious of each step against the unforgiving, hard ground. Even stepping on a stone would send a jolt of searing pain toward his ribs and flail chest injury. But Joe knew he had to endure. His current predicament was just a dangerous test aimed at his life, and he was damn well going to ace it. The alternative that Joe had in mind for that was destroying the test, as it was slightly rigged.


    A cool night wind caressed his feverish skin as he found solace in the darker shadows of the city, like a broken man in a bat suit.


    ''Fuck life.'' Joe cursed inside his mind with a thin smile on his lips as he took in shallow and quick breaths. ''Dang, breathing is still as hard as ever. It sucks.''


    The scent of the city, of gasoline, of fumes, of pollution, didn''t help to lessen the discomfort in any way. At least, it was better than the antiseptic scent of the hospital. Even off NZT, Joe had already learned to act perfectly as he slowly navigated through the bustling crowd like an average person. He restrained his wince, took care of his deliberate steps, and made sure to guard his right side without making it obvious. The casual, black-tinted glasses he was wearing topped it off to hide his facials exquisitely. And what about his clothes? It was the spare clothes that the hospital had. Joe had to seduce Nurse Eve for that. Though they were not bad, Joe found them disposable after they had served their purpose.


    Joe stopped at the traffic lights and carefully turned his head to see an incoming truck and a few vehicles. Seeing the truck elicited flashes of fragmented images of a nightmare that had ended his previous life. It brought him more pain than even the throbbing bruises on his body as he desperately avoided clutching his head like an asylum mad dog. ''Is this what PTSD is all about?'' Joe took a few steps back from the waiting curb as he alarmingly stared at the passing truck. The fear he had seemed coded to his DNA. But why did it have to be that moment? The anesthetic medication still doused in his system didn''t help at all.


    Joe winced in embarrassment, his shades hiding most of his peculiar expressions. The people around noticed his behavior but pretended not to give a shit. It was New York, and Joe''s behavior wasn''t the new normal.


    ''I wanna hide somewhere, like right now. It''s a relief these people won''t even bother remembering me.'' Joe decided to think from a logical perspective. ''You can''t always remember the faces of the strangers you pass by unless you really have a splendid memory and weird fascination toward keeping random faces in your mind.''


    Joe took the subway that barely had any soul, and it looked like something straight out of a horror setting. The lights kept on flickering on and off as if to mock and tease him into believing that some voodoo shit was onto him. Fortunately, Joe arrived at his street safely. He didn''t have a brutal meeting with a ghostly face, Freddy Krueger on summer vacation, or Michael Myers.


    "Ah, finally, my breathing has improved just looking at the familiar apartment building." Joe sighed as he cast a nostalgic gaze at where his home was supposed to be. Reaching the apartment''s main entrance, Joe inserted his key and turned the knob before stepping in.


    The air inside was stale compared to the outside, but still better than the hospital.


    "Oh, the elevator is finally working again. It''s such a relief that the maintenance is done," Joe muttered under his breath, as he ditched the stairs.


    ''This party animals never sleep, yikes.'' Joe slowly shook his head when his ears picked up the distant tremors from a powerful woofer. And from the feel of it, it was definitely electronic music. How could Joe not be familiar with it? It would be truly blasphemous coming from an audiophile that didn''t discriminate good vibes from any piece of music.


    Ping!


    Joe climbed off the elevator when he reached his floor. He then subtly looked behind at its closing doors before sighing. ''Elevator''s final destination. That''s horrifying. I''m weird for thinking about my... own death.''


    "Well, I did die, didn''t I? But not a second time..." His smile was thin and humorless as he inserted the key to his home before slowly twisting it open. The familiar clicking sound made him slowly remove his shades and anchor them in the breast pocket. Gently, he opened the door, the hinges screaming in joy at being left inactive for an entire month.


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    "It never gets old. Home sweet home. Welcome." Joe scanned the room that looked the same as he had left it. The room was filled with silence, desolation, and sadness. The warmth of a home had begun to gradually disappear with each passing day, each acting as a reminder that the person who brought the homely feeling was no longer bound to the living.


    Tightly securing the lock behind him, Joe wore a serious but thoughtful expression as he hurriedly made his way to his room. His walking style was awkward and almost robotic, but he didn''t care since he was inside his home. He could even run around naked if that pleased some secret observer perverted. ''God, I''m not an exhibitionist.'' That''s what he said.


    Joe used another key to open his room and on opening the door, he swiftly did a thorough scan that could even invalidate an IR scanner. The room looked as tidy as ever, a stark contrast to its initial state when Joe had been dabbling with sophisticated domains of physics. His bed was well-made, and the rubbish that had been scattered all over the floor was nonexistent.


    The customized, miniaturized arc reactor, along with his gaming PC setup, was no longer on the workstation table. The current room gave out minimalistic vibes without seeming out of place.


    A pleasant smile stretched out his lips as he completed his one-time survey.


    ''Nobody entered here, huh? There''s only one way to find out.'' His eyes twinkled as he diverted his attention to the polished wooden surface of the table.


    The table''s surface was uniform, well-carpentered to perfection, but Joe knew better. It wasn''t just perfection; it was a secret vault. Joe lazily traced his fingers on the surface before placing his thumb over a specific place. He subtly pressed his thumb over the spot for a few seconds before the table''s surface uniformity began to break. A section of the table started elevating, finally showcasing the OLED screen and his keyboard and mouse.


    "Hmm." He traced his other thumb to another section of the table, which initiated a sequence of actions with the table mechanically partitioning itself into different compartments. A blue light sprang to life within the dimly lit room.


    ''The arc reactor is intact, and everything else remains untouched.'' Joe sighed in relief. When he had been in the hospital, it was one of the many things that he had been thinking about. Joe had no definite grasp of the future now that he was living the life that he''d never thought to live in. Anything could happen; it was better to prepare his mind for any eventuality. Someone could have bombed the building without warning, or there could have been a sudden arson attack; heck, just anything could try to fuck him up.


    ''It''s a good thing that I''m still a nobody and an unknown factor in the eyes of people of interest. It would have been troublesome if I was the flashy type before gaining any physical or influential advantage.'' Joe knew that Hydra, S.H.I.E.L.D., or even Stark himself would have been interested in the person who single-handedly created a miniaturized arc reactor from, uh, creative trash. But we both know that never ends well, right?


    "The paranoia gets to me sometimes." Joe touched his feverish forehead. He could feel the pain increasing and his body aching all over, as if its sensitivity had been amplified. The anesthesia''s pain-numbing effect was slowly losing its edge, and Joe knew it.


    ''I guess there''s only one answer ¡ª NZT.'' Joe gazed at the medicine container before he grasped it and opened the lid.


    "I should sleep first before devouring you, buddy. Sorry, it will be a bad idea to stay awake with the pain and all."


    It was a good thing he took the Permanent Immunity Shot before going out. Joe''s hospital stay would have been hellish or even death-guaranteed otherwise.


    As Joe kick-started the whole system through a well-hidden switch, the screen brightened up as it gained life. Joe logged in and checked anything of interest on the internet. The Times Square mayhem was still a hot topic even after a month, and it seemed it would trend for some time unless another bigger event shook up New York.


    Joe then summoned the USB Drive and plugged it in. "This is the greatest security protocol. Oh, talking about security..." His thoughts wandered off to the damaged phone lodged inside his inner pockets. With swift movements, Joe put the phone on the table. It had a severely damaged, slightly bloodied screen. His phone gave off signs of having an early send-off.


    "Yeah, definitely. I can fix her." Joe nodded to himself before turning his attention to the movie folder. The cursor hovered over the Elysium movie, but it was a pity. To bring to fruition what he was thinking, he would have to create another miniaturized arc reactor. He couldn''t wait a whole damn week to facilitate the possible creation of a portal, a literal spatiotemporal bridge to an unknown parallel universe.


    Time was running out, and he needed to be in his best condition; to be prepared.


    "MedPod 3000, I''ll be with you soon." Joe unmounted the USB Drive before tightly clenching his hand. If there was one thing he had come to abhor, it was getting hurt or sick¡ªjust like any other human. No one likes sickness or brutal injury; even masochists have their limits. Losing a leg or hand is never enjoyable.


    After closing the set-up and making sure everything looked unsuspicious, Joe carefully lay on his bed. Gone were days of just dropping himself dead like a log. When you have a caved-in chest and a few unknown injuries riddling your body, discipline and order seem to take over.


    "Uh, they''re going to freak out when they realize I took an early summer vacation, haha." Joe thought of the hospital and Christine before he shut down.


    ¡­


    [Word Count 1885]

 [24] Elysium II, Med-Pod 3000

    Before the first primal light of dawn graced his room, Joe woke up in anticipation of what he would be doing for the day. Don''t they always say that the early bird catches the worm, right? Well, he had to be an eagle.


    "Wait¡­ Do eagles even eat worms?" Joe yawned while scratching his chest. It was still damn painful and irritating. His sleep hadn''t been all cozy and roses. It had been a tormenting hell.


    ''I''m getting stupid, I think. Wow, that''s original.'' Joe furrowed his brows, clicking his tongue in irritation before hitting the shower. Moments later, he was all dressed up in a comfortable pair of pants and a plain grey shirt. Of course, Joe couldn''t forget about that cup of bitter coffee. He needed that.


    It was around eight in the morning when he began his work. He started by procuring all the materials required to recreate several arc reactors. That sounded easy, didn''t it? From his mental calculations, Joe required about 7 miniaturized arc reactors to generate the maximum output that could satisfy the USB Drive''s conditions. If one miniaturized arc reactor could yield 3 gigajoules per second (3 Gigawatts), then by utilizing seven of them simultaneously, it would be effortless to generate over one billion kilowatt-hours. They were just simple calculations. However, the subsequent work was going to be enormous and tiring. And sweaty.


    First, Joe set up an almost untraceable surveillance camera system in his doorway. It connected directly to the live feed on his quadra monitor set-up. Although it wasn''t as discreet as Hank''s surveillance ants, Joe found it acceptable as long as it served its purpose. He didn''t forget to close all the windows tightly in case someone thought it was a good idea not to use the stairs. He knew damn well who he was referring to, and that ''guy'' sometimes didn''t know the meaning of boundaries. The problem was Pete cared too much and after unofficially discharging himself before Joe''s complete recovery, he might probably think his friend got kidnapped. Joe found it stressing that Spidey had to deal with all sorts of cockroach villains. And that''s where the dividing lines between their contrasting personalities lay.


    Joe knew himself well. He had looked into the abyss, and the abyss blinked first. Death felt synonymous, even though he had never killed a soul. It was just... there. Inside him, and he knew it.


    Anyway, during the day, Joe had to ignore emails from his caring friends. He understood he was being heartless and self-destructive to his own health, but that''s what he had to do. He had to be selfish, and temporarily turn them away for his self-preservation. If he didn''t achieve what he had in mind before the day ended, Joe felt that he would really go bonkers.


    Around 10 p.m., Joe finished the additional six miniaturized arc reactors, incorporating numerous heat dissipators from old servers and new superconducting materials for efficient thermoelectric management. With the setup complete, Joe had to wait another day to generate the required billion kilowatt-hours.


    "Dang, who knows how much radiation I have absorbed just from staying shut inside this room? That counts as being a human mutate, eh?" Joe chuckled at his poor joke. In the meantime, as the USB Drive was being fed with energy, Joe decided to buy the gear he would need for the expedition. It consisted of a biohazard suit, safety goggles, and a multi-layered particulate respirator to filter out foreign airborne particles and other contaminants. During that time, he learned about microbiology and immunology extensively. Of course, he had to. The immune systems of the humans in Marvel had already adapted to their intermediate environment after millions of years of evolution. This genetic adaptation stemmed from the Homo heidelbergensis, our ancestors. The immune system couldn''t instantly adapt to a new, completely foreign parallel universe. It had to take time.


    The foreign microbes and pathogens in the atmosphere of Elysium World weren''t going to pamper Joe when they assaulted his immune system.


    "Cross-reactivity be damned. I can''t give up my life if I have the chance to prepare." Joe feared unknown foreign diseases more than the currently known ones. Imagine an unborn Xenomorph the size of a spore being inhaled into your respiratory system. What do you think would happen next? The Xenomorph incubating in your system and feeding off your innards would finally headbutt your bloody tummy!


    "Gosh, why did I watch Alien Covenant and Prometheus?" Joe shook his head with a dubious expression marring his face. "To top it off, I also watched Annihilation. Well, that''s honestly gratifying knowing that I''m going to a foreign environment."


    Time flew by quickly, and Joe found himself readily clad in protective gear. He looked at the USB Drive which had changed entirely. Its surface shone with hypnotizing red lights and a luster that resembled swirling galaxies and stars. It looked heavenly and mystifying. Joe cut off the power that was being injected into the USB and held it in his gloved hand. A lone sweat dropped from his forehead as he observed the USB that had now turned to its original shiny black color.


    "Perfecto." Joe nodded to himself before hiding the entire set-up like before, with a bit of adjustment here and there. He knew it was lousy at best due to a lack of advanced camouflaging tech, but he had an ingenious mind to make up for it.


    Plugging in the USB, Joe inhaled sharply. Elysium was a sci-fi movie set in the year 2154 at a time when overpopulation, pollution, and a lack of resources have affected the earth. With such a dystopian setting, you might have thought that the civilization as a whole would be unified under a common goal, right? But it wasn''t anything like that. There was social polarization, where the rich and poor were divided into two groups. The poor and struggling ''lesser'' beings stayed holed up on the dying earth while the elite enjoyed their opulence in a gigantic space station orbiting the earth. In his previous life, Joe hadn''t cared for its underlying themes of discrimination and the underprivileged individuals in the society. When the video effects were excellent and the fights memorable, how could he think about other things when he was just a casual enjoyer?


    At least there''s someone noteworthy like Matt Damon, who was the only cast Joe knew shit about. In the film, he went by the name Max Da Costa, an infamous grand theft auto operator.


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    "He''s the person that took GTA seriously, like many other car thieves thriving in America." Joe smiled as he fast-forwarded the movie. The general plot of the movie was simple. When Max is working in the factory under Armadyne Group, an elitist mega-corporation managed by John Carlyle, unfortunately, he gets irradiated pretty badly. And guess what? He only has, like, five days to live, with the decaying earth not having the appropriate medical technology to heal him. So Max is forced to bet on his chances of fighting his way to Elysium, where they enjoy the best and most advanced healthcare. Diseases? Injuries? Old Age? Hunger? Those were just a myth at the Torus.


    "And... Pause." Joe softly pressed the mouse, his gaze fixated on the technological marvel on the screen. The Med-Pod 3000. It was the ultimate cheat that could heal virtually any type of disease, injuries like broken bones, and could even de-age someone. Joe had another name for it: The Longevity Capsule. With MedPod 3000, living for 300 years was not a dream but a reality. It could analyze all medical conditions and devise the optimal treatment plan with its advanced medical algorithms.


    "I could cure cancer, leukemia, cerebral tumor..." Joe stammered, his voice lost and somber, as he remembered one of the goals he wanted to pursue after his mother''s death. It felt like a long time, but now, Joe can be considered to have already partially found the best cure for cancer. Additionally, it wasn''t by his own hands and mind.


    Balling his hand into a fist, Joe steeled himself for what he was about to do next as the screen on the monitor turned a deep black. It was eerily dark, like a hole that could devour any light and matter. Joe instinctively stepped back as he observed the spatial paradox in front of him.


    That small black hole theoretically connected his current reality to a parallel universe.


    "Quantum mechanics quantified. And I hold the key to the theory of parallel universes. What lies beyond the hole in the other shore? Is it truly Elysium? A world on the brink of destruction? Or a world full of vigor?" Joe mumbled with a deep frown on his face.


    "Well, there''s only one way to find out." Joe ominously touched the cool metal of the Glock secured in the sheath at his waist. His heart was pounding impudently against his injured chest, but he ignored the pain since he had returned to his ''medication.'' It had limited pain suppression.


    For experimental purposes, before he dared to enter the spatial paradox, Joe used a tennis ball. He carefully aimed it at the hole before throwing it. Joe watched in anticipation, the silence of the room broken by the ''whoosh'' of the ball as it collided with the screen. Contrary to expectations, the ball didn''t crack the screen or bounce off, but it perfectly got swallowed into the black hole and disappeared.


    "Experiment #1 is a success. Items can still pass through the spatiotemporal membranous film. Experiment #2 will have to be actualized by me. My safety will be on the line, but it''s worth the risk." Joe took deep, rhythmic breaths as he tried to curb the bits of anxiety hidden in his stomach.


    "I hope the time there synchronizes with my present or else... Things might get loopy and paradoxical." Joe lamented the fact that many issues had to be accounted for with what he was about to do.


    No longer hesitating, Joe stretched out a tentative hand, feeling the wonderful otherworldly sensation through his protective gear. Then, little by little, the space before him seemed to expand magically, accommodating his whole frame. Before long, he disappeared from the Marvel Universe.


    In Joe''s vision, there was only darkness, but it was a transient experience before he saw the light.


    Have I truly traversed to a different dimension?


    "Wow, is this what Neil Armstrong felt when he landed on the moon?" Joe''s voice echoed softly in the unfamiliar surroundings. His eyes widened in wonder as he took in the sophisticated decor of the luxurious room. With his hand lingering close to the Glock on his waist, Joe vigilantly looked around for any surveillance cameras, droids, or a person. His vigilance was met with nothing but pin-drop silence. There was not even a lone fly to welcome him, but Joe doubted if this self-contained beautiful environment had houseflies.


    Covertly, Joe gazed through the transparent floor-to-ceiling windows as he silently walked forward like a ghost recon op. Hiding behind blinds, Joe side-glanced the mega-structures outside and even caught a glimpse of the earth.


    ''There''s nothing? Don''t tell me¡­.'' Joe had some ideas behind the silence, however, to affirm his guesses, he would have to venture outside eventually. And there''s no way he was going outside before doing what was first on his list of priorities.


    ''The CCTV''s seem non-functional. But the...'' Joe silently walked toward the state-of-the-art medical equipment. ''How convenient. I remember even in the event of a power outage, the Med-Pod 3000 was designed to have some backup power.''


    ''But it''s clearly not running on backup.'' Joe observed the slick white exterior, pausing to observe the holographic user interface that showed details of it having direct input.


    ''It has a clean yet feature-rich interface.'' Joe smiled as he played around with the commands. ''Pretty hackable.''


    ''Their technology should be a century beyond my previous world''s and the current Marvel. However, that''s up for debate. The Marvel Universe evolves with each passing year. They can breach the gap in a matter of 3-5 years.'' Joe sighed.


    ''I''m not a citizen of Elysium and my biodata isn''t recorded in their cloud servers. So I guess, yeah. It''s hackin'' time.'' Joe began his thing. However, after a few minutes, he let out a long, frustrated sigh while shaking his head in reluctant admiration.


    It was a given that whoever created Elysium''s security protocols was a damn genius, considering they were advanced by like a century.


    ''A good challenge''s still a good challenge.'' Unfortunately, even with NZT, it was almost an impossible task to hack a system that incorporated DNA at its core. The special barcode that was imprinted in the arms of the Elysium elites was what differentiated them from the low-class masses. But the guy called Spider had a special administration gun capable of circumnavigating this hurdle.


    Glancing at the portal he''d come through, Joe resisted the urge to return. Cracking the MedPod''s system was a monumental task, but rules were made to be broken.


    Joe pushed aside thoughts of the Star Rail sibling and her bonking bat, focusing instead on the challenge of penetrating the closed-loop system. There exist flaws in everything in the universe. If the Heaven''s Path Library decreed it so, who was he to counterargue?


    It only took a few hours before he forcefully and seamlessly registered himself into the cloud servers, perfectly fabricating his identity. After that, Joe didn''t hesitate to remove his protective gear as he lay on the soft linen bed, designed for patient comfort.


    [Beginning analysis...]


    A fully automated voice softly sounded in his ears as the artificial intelligence performed a complete body scan.


    [Thoracic Trauma detected]


    [Cerebral micro-fractures detected.]


    [Dormant metastatic cerebral tumor detected]


    [Radiation and damaged cells and tissues detected]


    [Incipient hemorrhagic bleeding in the cerebrum detected]


    "..." Joe''s face went pale, his skin turning ashen as if all the blood had drained away. His hands trembled slightly, and he felt a cold sweat forming on his brow.


    He was the Walking Dead!


    ...


    [Word Count 2368]

 [25] Drama-ma-ma-ma

    "This is a miracle. How am I still alive and fully functional?" Joe muttered under his breath as cold sweat cascaded down his back.


    "Cerebral microfractures and haemorrhaging, radiation, hidden cancer cells... God, isn''t that a perfect recipe for disaster?" Joe shook his head in disbelief, his mouth opening and closing without pause. He was rendered speechless.


    ''If these conditions were left to accumulate for long, I guess my life would have been short-lived, even if I had survived every tumultuous event.'' Joe inhaled sharply, the thumping of his heart increasing with each passing realization. He swallowed hard and then released a tired sigh.


    With a resolute look etched on his face and determination oozing off his blue eyes, Joe stretched out his trembling hand. With a few simple commands on the holographic user interface, the Med-Pod''s artificial intelligence initiated the treatment protocols.


    [Re-atomization in progress...] The automated voice declared as warm light from the overhead scanner began showering his whole body. Joe felt a scorching sensation as the unseen nanorobots drilled into his body system. Due to the severity of his medical conditions, the healing process wasn''t almost instantaneous as shown in the movie.


    [Reconstructing...]


    Five minutes later, Joe felt a comfortable feeling wash over his being. It was as if...


    "I have been reborn." Joe methodically sat up and started appraising his hands.


    "My skin is like that of a newborn baby." He traced a steady finger across his smooth skin, his mouth wide open in amazement and wonder. The results were truly magical. "All the scars have been purged."


    Joe then directed his gaze to his chest and found his serious injury had been perfectly regenerated. He tentatively placed a hand over his chest, feeling the defined muscles and his new ribs. In the movie, Kruger, the antagonist, had his whole face blasted off by a grenade, but Med-Pod 3000 regrew all of his tissues.


    "I''m Joe Petersen." Joe self-introduced himself. After a few seconds, he nodded to himself. "My vocal cords have also experienced significant improvements. My voice is...sexier."


    Joe climbed off the Med-Pod 3000 and nearly tripped over his own feet. His quick reaction allowed him to steady himself before he kissed the floor. "Wow, what is this feeling? I''m levitating."


    After a moment, Joe regained his balance. His body control had reached an almost perfect level as his bones cracked in excitement.


    "This level of regenerative healing is currently only speculative, but here, it''s the real deal. The Regeneration Cradle had similar 3D bioprinting capabilities." Joe flexed his arm muscles before he redressed.


    "Now this makes me want to bring the Med-Pod 3000 back to my room for in-depth research." Joe flashed a manic grin at the med bay, however, his face fell after a moment''s thinking. It would be too risky to possess such a sophisticated piece of technology when he was basically a nobody. Joe needed to cement himself on the ladder of power and authority first. How would the world react to something akin to an immortality elixir of the legends? Human greed was terrifying, and when basically everyone wanted to extend their lives, you can imagine the chaos that would be there.


    Joe put aside the thought and looked at the Casio watch strapped on his left wrist. "Only twenty minutes have passed since I landed in this universe."


    "Well, that''s my cue to return." Joe gave the Med-Pod 3000 and his surroundings one last glance before diverting his attention to the black portal.


    "Before I explore the place, sufficient preparation is crucial." Just as Joe was in the middle of thinking, suddenly, alarms began blaring noisily.


    It nearly made his soul leave his body, as Joe instinctively sprinted towards the portal. There was no use sticking around to find out when he wasn''t bulletproof or super-powered enough to resist most harm.


    Magically, Joe disappeared from the Elysium universe and reappeared in his room, nearly knocking back his chair. Joe dropped down on the floor, his breathing ragged due to the adrenaline rush.


    His heart was beating so fast that he could hear it in his ears.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    "Fuck, that gave me the worst scare that I''d ever expected. Are there still people in that damned world?" Joe cursed harshly while staring at the ceiling, dazed by the sudden turn of events.


    "Wait... the time? I haven''t checked the time!" Joe spoke with urgency as he lifted his left wrist to observe the time.


    "What? T-There is no time difference. Could the time flow be synchronized between the two universes?!" Joe wondered as he frantically stood up.


    "The date. I''ve to make sure I''m still on the same date." Joe leaned over his desk to look at the calendar.


    "Good, good, good. Very good." A huge smile spread on his face before a deep laughter reverberated all over the room.


    "Damn, It''s a relief I''m not ten years into the future or something. That would have been awful, but I wonder if I would have been saved from Thanos''s snap." The tension began melting off his face as Joe exhaled relaxedly.


    Suddenly, Joe heard his door''s alarm ring, and he swept his eyes toward the left monitor. The face shown on the feed made all the giddiness inside him evaporate, replaced by a complicated expression.


    "I''m not winning this one." Joe sighed, biting his lower lip thoughtfully. He gave his room a once over and after ensuring nothing was out of place, he left to meet ''HER''.


    Opening the door, Joe came face to face with Gwen. She seemed to have aged significantly, but even then, she remained beautiful even without make-up. Her eyes were red, a mix of sadness, betrayal, and anger swirling within them.


    She was dressed in a simple white dress that subtly showed her curves while remaining modest. But that was beside the point, Gwen currently wasn''t in the mood for spiritless compliments. She wasn''t there to slay. She was there to ''communicate''.


    "H-Hey..." Joe greeted her with a nervous smile. He didn''t need to act in front of her when he perfectly knew he was guilty.


    "S-So you can talk?" Gwen glared at him mockingly. "D-do you finally feel comfortable talking to your best friend? No, d-do I even mean something to you?"


    "Do I even matter?" Gwen stammered, her voice almost choked.


    "You were hospitalized, Joe. For God''s sake, you were on a deathbed, Joe! How am I supposed to react when you look..." She pointed her hand at him in both disbelief and livid anger.


    "Wait... Y-You look perfectly healed?" A doubtful expression settled on Gwen''s stunning face as she studied Joe''s unblemished skin. She then narrowed her gaze at the region where he had been severely injured.


    Gwen palmed her face and started shaking her head slowly. "I can''t believe this. You''re simply unbelievable!"


    "J-Joe, what sort of secrets are you hiding from me?! Ever since Ronnie left us, you''ve never felt like the Joe I once knew."


    "You''ve changed. You''ve become meaner and more selfish. It''s like... I don''t matter to you anymore." Her voice cracked at the end as she lifted her hand to hide her tears.


    Joe''s face hardened, seeing her cry. "I''m so¡ª"


    "Really? Are you for real? Of all the words you could have picked, ''sorry'' was the only thing you could have picked." Gwen couldn''t hold her tears anymore, letting them freely flow.


    "You''re right, Gwen. I-I don''t think I''m the same Joe that I once thought I was," Joe said honestly as his eyes stayed on her teary ones.


    "I''ve been selfish, I know that. Everything you''ve said about me is mostly right, but...I still care and will always care for you."


    "It''s just that...my life has never been the same ever since my mother left me." Joe looked sideways, a deep sigh escaping his lips. He then took a step toward Gwen, but she responded by moving backwards.


    "I need to be stronger. I need to survive Gwen. Only then can I protect myself and you." His intense gaze once again returned to hers, his eyes conveying his vulnerabilities. His truth. Joe couldn''t tell Gwen everything. Some secrets were better left untold.


    "Who said I needed your damn protection when you''re heading towards self-destruction?" Gwen countered, her voice rising.


    Joe stepped closer. ''She can''t understand. No one can understand.''


    "As we speak, I''m breaking piece by piece inside seeing you cry. I-I don''t want to see that. I hate that I''m the person that made you cry." Joe moved fast before Gwen could move away and engulfed her in a tight embrace.


    "No, no, no, you aren''t supposed to touch me. Unhand me this moment or I''ll kick your balls!" Gwen threatened, weakly drumming her arms against Joe''s chest.


    "Shhhh, shhhh, it''s okay. I''ll take it if it means making you stop crying." Joe lied through clenched teeth. A kick in the balls will even make the man of steel keel over in pain.


    "You''re lying. I know it will hurt damn good." Gwen sniffed her tears back as she ''lightly'' punched Joe.


    "But my fist will do just right."


    "Ouch. Gwen, you sadistic..." Joe cursed, the sting of the pain spreading all over his body.


    "Haha, that suits you right, you dark-hearted bastard." Gwen''s muffled giggle reverberated against his chest, and Joe found it cute enough to alleviate the pain.


    There was a moment of silence between the two before Gwen broke it.


    "Do you promise me that you won''t do anything stupid like what you''ve just done? Do you know how freaked out I was when I heard that you disappeared from the hospital?" She looked at him with upturned eyes.


    "I was dead worried that you have...left me...all alone." She tightened her hold on the fabric of his shirt.


    "Do you promise not to leave like that without communicating, Joe?" She asked.


    "I promise," Joe said gently as his fingers weaved through her soft blonde hair.


    "Do you promise not to cast me aside?"


    "I promise."


    Unexpectedly, without warning, Gwen pinched his tummy. "You better keep your promise!" Her eyes turned scary for a moment before she smiled beautifully like an angel.


    "Gwen, are you...are you maybe into S & M play?" Joe asked with a difficult expression showing on his face.


    "Joe! I think I''ll aim for your balls next." Gwen threatened which made Joe shut up completely.


    "You always know how to ruin a moment."


    "*Cough*, you can''t blame me for being curious."


    "Take care of your nethers, buddy."


    "Sure ma''am."


    ¡­


    [Word Count 1768]

 [26] Game Development

    "By the way, we''ve been standing outside for quite some time. Don''t you think the neighbors might get interested in our affairs?" Joe grinned.


    "Let ''em continue getting interested. Like you''ve said, this is our affair," Gwen lightly scoffed before chuckling. She then gently pushed Joe away from her.


    "Let''s go inside. I''m hungry," Gwen''s voice was flat as she walked past Joe, leaving him arching his brows in surprise.


    "Women," he muttered under his breath while shaking his head before following her.


    "Your house looks more tidy than usual. It''s almost unbelievable. What possessed our Joe?" Gwen exclaimed in exaggeration as she examined the sparkling apartment. ''Did he hire some maid to do home service?''


    "Last time I checked, you were the type to never bother with your living environment. What happened to you?" Gwen turned her head to face Joe.


    "Things change. People change. Guess I''m a new Joe Petersen," Joe lazily replied.


    "I ain''t buying that bullshit, but I''ll still take it. It''s a good change nonetheless." Gwen flashed him a one-sided smirk.


    "Whatever suits you, Miss Health Inspector," Joe said with a shrug as he moved toward the fridge. He opened it and removed a can of Smirnoff. It was cold to the touch, just the perfect feeling.


    Gwen noticed what Joe was holding and her eyes widened in surprise. Unconsciously, she began heading towards him.


    "Well, well, when did you start taking alcohol?" Gwen curiously asked.


    Joe uncorked the top and took a mighty gulp of the cold drink, some of the liquid trickling down his chin.


    "That hits the spot," he sighed contentedly, gazing at Gwen in slight confusion. "I thought you were going to stop me from drinking this intoxicant made from Dionysius'' grace," he added humorously.


    Gwen clicked her tongue, a mocking smile on her face. "You''re simply unbelievable, Joe. Even Dionysius doesn''t deal with low-quality stuff like that."


    All the humor evaporated from Joe''s face at Gwen''s blatant mockery. Her reply felt like an arrow straight to his heart.


    ''How can she say that I bought some cheap stuff? That''s not cool, girlie,'' Joe thought but let it slide.


    "Joe, you''re an adult so I can''t stop you from drinking," Gwen casually said as she leaned into the fridge. The movement brought focus to her perfectly-endowed buttocks and exquisite long limbs.


    Joe sipped his Smirnoff, his gaze lingering on Gwen''s high-quality ''assets'' in gentlemanly appreciation. There was no lust, no dirty thoughts, just admiring the perfect art before anything else. Or maybe it was a lie. There was little lust, and it was more biological.


    "Oh, you remembered to stock up? That''s commendable. Now I can make anything for us," Gwen said hurriedly, her face hidden by the fridge''s door.


    "Now can you please stop that ''step-sister pose''? Ugh, I''ve been dying to say that," Joe quipped as he took one last swig before throwing the can into the bin. It was a perfect throw without looking.


    "For Christ''s sake, Joe, never thought your mind was in the gutters that much," Gwen cursed out as she straightened her posture before giving Joe a stinky eye¡ªmore like an assassination eye.


    "Step-sister, why don''t you get stuck in the fridge?" Joe laughed heartily.


    "Childish. It''s not even funny." Gwen pouted and deliberately tried to elbow Joe, but the latter effortlessly evaded her.


    "It''s funny to me though."


    "That''s a you problem," Gwen rolled her eyes before sighing. "You do realize that I''m the only person capable of handling your shit, right?"


    "Um, yeah. That''s why you''re the best, Gwen," Joe replied sincerely.


    Gwen just smiled in satisfaction at that answer before she started sorting out the ingredients for their meal.


    "You know what? I am curious about your rapid healing. What''s the story around that? Um, you don''t have to tell me if you don''t feel like it," she said softly as she washed some thick and juicy tomatoes in the sink.


    "Uh, oh, so you are curious about that?" Joe showed a thin smile.


    "I think it''s better if it remains a secret...for now at least. It''s something that you are gonna know soon." Joe didn''t feel comfortable telling Gwen about the Medpod 3000 at the moment. Some things were just better not known.


    ''If I tell Gwen about Med-Pod 3000, she will be curious about its origin, and that''s when things get complicated. I don''t want a connection between the Super USB Drive and the items I''m going to instantiate in the future to be made.''


    "Hmmm, I can roll with that. You can tell whenever you feel comfortable." Gwen''s tone was cool and understanding. She silently continued with her cooking session, acting like nothing had happened.


    Joe pursed his lips in slight frustration. Secrets were poisonous, but sometimes they were pretty important. And the most important secret that an outlier like him couldn''t let slip like ever was his reincarnation status. But could his situation even be called a reincarnation? Has he always been Joe Petersen throughout? Or should he call himself Joe Prime if there exists an innumerable amount of his parallel selves?


    "Gwen, what are you cooking?" Joe asked casually to lighten the mood.


    "Food," she replied without as much as giving him a look.


    "C''mon Gwen..." Joe whined as he playfully leaned his chin close to her nape, making her instinctively tense. She paused mixing the contents of the large bowl before sighing in annoyance.


    "Meatballs and spaghetti. So, if you value your life, please stop disturbing me," Gwen warned harshly. "Just leave my space."


    "Too cold, too cold. But I''m not leaving," Joe nonchalantly brushed her warning away. "I like seeing you cook. It''s always breathtaking." Joe pecked her soft cheek before quickly moving away.


    "Why did you do that?" Gwen''s voice caught in her throat as a flush crept up her neck. Her hand trembled slightly as it touched the place Joe''s lips had grazed her cheek.


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    "Do what?" Joe pretended to be stupid as he deftly picked a freshly washed tomato and munched on it.


    "Hmph, just don''t do that while I''m in the middle of cooking." She rolled her eyes at him before returning to her duty, a cute smile spreading on her face. It was a smile that Joe wasn''t supposed to see, or else, he was going to continuously pester her.


    ...


    "By the way, it''s been long since you yapped about your relationships, Joe," Gwen suddenly said over the meal.


    "Whaddya mean?" Joe stuffed a huge roll of succulent spaghetti soaked with sauce into his mouth.


    "You''re not seeing anybody in particular these days, are you?" Gwen reiterated her question while playing around with her fork.


    "Seeing anyone, as in dating or cohabitating? No, not really," Joe answered truthfully, a thoughtful look on his face.


    "But I''m open to suggestions," he then showed her a playful smirk while wiggling his brows.


    "I could never. Even Lord Kronos would reverse the hell out of that unholy union!" Gwen held her chest in fake pain, pretending to vomit.


    Joe chuckled at her exaggerated theatrics. "The fuck is Lord Kronos involved in this? Is that whom you pray to during exams?"


    "You betcha. Many night owls in our major pray to him especially during the finals."


    "How did you arrive at such demographics?"


    "I don''t know. It''s something that I overheard some of my classmates talking about. Don''t you miss school?


    "Oh, Gwen..." Joe''s tone shifted to a serious one. Gwen narrowed her eyes, wondering what Joe was up to.


    "Rule #1 of truants: Never miss school."


    Gwen nearly facepalmed herself. "All that seriousness, man."


    "Anyway, do you plan on returning after summer break?"


    "Hmm, maybe to get my degree or something," Joe touched his chin.


    "You are not joking right?" Gwen winged her brows.


    "Nope. I could get a bachelor''s or master''s at any moment. I''m thinking about putting my college life on hold for a moment," Joe declared confidently.


    Gwen stared at Joe, her expression one of utter befuddlement. After an uncomfortable pause, she awkwardly laughed it off. "That''s the weirdest thing I''ve heard tonight, Joe."


    "It will only get weirder, darling."


    The two continued to talk nonsense for the rest of the meal before Joe offered her a side job. Gwen couldn''t refuse some summer earnings on Joe''s fervent insistence. Acting as Joe''s nanny couldn''t be that bad, right?


    Also, there was something else Joe needed Gwen''s help with. It was about the game he was going to develop on that day.


    ....


    Before even thinking about developing a simple game like Candy Crush Saga, Joe had already done some research regarding the gaming demographics. The mobile gaming market wasn''t as good as the PC, but that didn''t mean that PC gaming in this universe was necessarily better. It lacked flavor, memorability, and the ''addiction'' element. There was a severe lack of games capable of inducing the cult effect.


    In his previous life, Joe knew how gaming fans were crazy about the games they liked. It was pretty toxic, but that toxicity was something Joe wanted to see. The gaming community of Marvel required a storm. And he, Joe Petersen, would be the storm that would sweep the world!


    Since a journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step, Candy Crush Saga would be his first step in breaking out of anonymity.


    Joe already had the game''s entire conceptualization in mind. Of course, it was not the power of originality but it didn''t matter. Copyright infringement was a myth for reincarnates and the whole gang.


    With his custom-built gaming developmental tools, Joe put his excellent coding skills into play. Working from the ground up using C++, Joe designed the gameplay mechanics, level progression, and game physics. The first step had to be the outline, in short, the prototype. Making the candies and smooth level-up systems wasn''t that difficult. Of all the steps he enjoyed, then it would be the part where he started working on the audio and visual aesthetics. From his perspective, Joe enjoyed the music and animation more than the rush of leveling up. What made some bosses memorable was their OSTs, right?


    Joe didn''t sleep on the sound design and put his all into creating something unforgettable. Sound design was effortlessly a vital aspect of a good gaming experience.


    With Gwen dutifully handling his meals and keeping him company during the development process, it only took three days for Joe to finish it all. They were days filled with furious keyboard clicks, the scent of coffee, casual banter, and just having fun.


    Also, within three days he had personally tested the games for bugs and glitches via Gwen. However, that didn''t mean that bugs could be tackled in just three days. Joe rectified what was to be rectified, the rest could be dealt with from the player''s feedback. All in all, he had been meticulous in refining the game so the bugs were almost nonexistent. On the fourth day, Joe ''gently'' hacked the billboards to showcase the game, released several bots in gaming forums, and manipulated YouTube''s algorithm to expose the game''s short ad to as many people as possible. The video got a million views in under an hour. That was all part of his small strategic marketing. Joe was subtle in his approach. No lives were hurt in the process.


    On the fifth day, Candy Crush Saga started making waves in the public, especially on social media before its release. Believing that there was no need to withhold the sweet tooth addiction to only Gwen, Joe released Candy Crush Saga to the world. And true to its title, the cross-platform game crushed everything in its path!


    ...


    [Word Count 1965]

 [27] Prelude To Vengeance

    The muffled hum of early morning traffic drifted through the half-open window, mingling with the crisp scent of dawn. Golden light slowly crept across the apartment, casting long shadows and warming the cool air.


    "I''m never... ever working with you, Joe. You literally put slavery to shame." A lethargic groan escaped Gwen, who was sprawled on the couch with her legs draped over the armrest. Her usually rosy complexion was now pale, with dark circles etched beneath her eyes that made her look like a panda. Her cheeks were somehow hollowed that she came out as a typical sleep-deprived gamer.


    From the shadowy corner of the room, untouched by dawn''s creeping fingers, a deep chuckle emanated. The leather sofa creaked softly as Joe leaned forward, the cool material clinging to his skin as he emerged from the darkness.


    "Why are you painting me in a bad picture, Gwen? You''re making me feel bad." A small, self-satisfied smirk lingered on Joe''s lips as he eyed the worn-down blonde dressed in cute black pajamas.


    "That''s what a sadistic villain would say, actually," Gwen said, clicking her tongue in exasperation.


    "Now I''m the villain?" Joe shook his head in fake dissatisfaction, his eyes filled with mirth. "I''ll take that as a compliment."


    "But hey, in the grand scheme of things, we did it, right? The game was a hit," Joe said, stretching as he got up.


    "That''s your only saving grace. I am hella surprised by how everything turned out. Maybe only someone like you can pull off something like that on their first try." Gwen propped up her upper torso using her elbows and mustered up a beautiful smile despite looking like shit.


    "It''s succeeded only because you were there. Guess you are my lucky charm," Joe winked at her as he went to the kitchen. After a few minutes, he returned. Two mugs of steaming hot chocolate sent tendrils of warmth into the air, the sweet scent mingling with the lingering staleness of their all-night work session.


    "Oh, how lovely of you. At least, you''re considerate enough," Gwen pouted as she received her cup.


    "So how many downloads so far?" Gwen casually asked as she took a small, tentative sip of the chocolate. She instinctively recoiled from the cup as the scalding liquid seared her tongue and upper lip. The sudden shock of pain was quickly followed by the bittersweet taste of chocolate, intensified by the burn


    "Fuck..." she cursed out in irritation and anger but remained careful of what she was holding. Gently placing the cup on the low mahogany table, Gwen switched her lying posture and sat straight. The sting burning on her tongue and the sweet taste of chocolate had jolted her awake.


    "Language, Gwen," Joe spoke in a serious manner before elegantly sipping from his cup. Gwen clenched her hand into a fist from just looking at Joe''s calm facade. If there were something that she had always envied, then it would be Joe''s ability to drink hot chocolate or coffee seemingly unaffected.


    "What? Do you want to drink from my cup? Mine''s barely hot. We can exchange cups if you want." Joe stretched out his cup toward Gwen in an invitation.


    "As if I would fall for that," Gwen snickered. There was a time she had been hoodwinked by the bastard into drinking from his cup only to suffer. Gwen knew how evil Joe could get sometimes.


    "So tell me..." She reiterated her previous question.


    "Oh? The downloads? Let me take a quick peek. I initially put the phone on silent due to that. Lots of notifications were swarming me, tweets, comments etcetera." Joe set down his cup before pulling out his new phone. It was an android, the holy grail of most folks. Joe found no reason to break the bank again even though he had ''enough'' money.


    "Oh? This is truly... wow!" Joe exclaimed, rendered almost speechless by the stats on the AMOLED screen.


    "Now you are making me insanely curious. Just out with it," Gwen urged him, impatience stuck in her voice.


    "The game already has 1.5 million downloads overnight! And the video I posted on YouTube, already has 15 million views! Check ''em out on your phone to experience the full thrill," Joe shared the news, the initial enthusiasm in his voice gradually dying.


    ''For fuck''s sake, I orchestrated everything perfectly. There''s no need to feel overly giddy.'' he thought in subtle amusement. ''But, aren''t I allowed to enjoy the fruits of my labor? Yeah, no biggie with that.''


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Gwen began rummaging through her pockets and when she didn''t find what she was looking for, she began searching through the spacings on the couch.


    "There you are, you mischievous phone," Gwen scoffed as she jerked out her phone hidden somewhere on the couch. Without dilly-dallying, she hurriedly began scrolling through her phone, her mouth slowly widening with each scroll.


    "Oh my God, it feels so surreal," Gwen''s voice trembled in happiness, an unbelievable smile plastered on her beautiful face.


    "Just what kind of luck did you have in your past life for your ancestors to care about you so much?" She released a light-hearted chuckle while giving the phone a second perusing.


    "Um, I don''t know. The thing is, I''ve never talked with my ancestors," Joe replied with a satirical smile.


    ''But I think I carried some of the luck from my past life. That, you ain''t far from the truth.''


    "Of course, you''ve never talked with them. Unless you are into shamanism and voodoo stuff." Gwen comically arched one of her brows, her eyes mocking him.


    "So, what about the monetization? How did it go?" Gwen asked hesitantly after a moment of consideration.


    Joe noted how she was being careful. As much as money was a sensitive subject, did she think that it couldn''t be talked about between them? If there was something that Joe thought that would be the least of his worries, then it would be fucking money.


    "You don''t have to be shy about asking that. Aren''t we, like, more than that, Gwen? I reckon you once said something like that," Joe teased her, a small smile, full of mischief, lingering on his lips.


    A deep flush of embarrassment spread on Gwen''s cheeks, the heat rising to the tips of her ears. She turned her face away, feeling the soft strands of her messy hair brush against her burning skin. She then took interest in the contents of her cup which seemed to have simmered down.


    "I don''t remember ever saying such cheesy lines. You are just making up things of your own," Gwen said in a small voice, her lower face hidden by the cup.


    "So you are indirectly saying that my memory is flawed and downright shitty?" Joe laced his fingers and leaned forward, his gaze never leaving her form.


    "Mm-mmh. Pretty genius of you to take it straight outta my mind." Gwen lolled out her tongue dramatically as she slowly placed down the cup. "Ugh, still hot."


    "Haha, you look just like a thirsty dog," Joe commented on her funny theatrics which earned a death stare.


    "Really? That''s so demeaning, Joe. I''m a beautiful woman in her prime. How can you compare me to a dog?" Gwen shifted her position, crossing her legs. Joe found himself momentarily distracted, his eyes drawn to the movement.


    ''Damn, she''s making me doubt our supposed friendship. The old me wants out, right here, right now. However...'' Joe swallowed a mouthful of saliva, making sure that it was as discreet as possible, as he shamelessly took in Gwen''s glorious teasing.


    "See? Do I now look like a dog?" Gwen confidently asked as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She felt a certain unnamed thrill from the way Joe was gazing at her. As much as he tried to play it subtly, she still noticed his smoldering desires. He looked somehow uncomfortable, maybe conflicted about something, and that made her madly curious.


    Clearing his throat, Joe shook his head, smiling awkwardly. "My bad. You are as stunning as ever, Gwen. I really am envious of the person who would sweep you off your feet."


    Joe then tentatively stood up from his seat and left for the kitchen with his empty cup. The atmosphere was kind of getting...out of line. And, it wasn''t any good. It was dangerous.


    Gwen sighed in slight disappointment before muttering under her breath, "Clueless bastard."


    "Candy Crush has made about $115,750 inclusive of taxes, just from the in-game purchases," Joe said in a calm tone as he returned with a refilled cup and a plate of sandwiches.


    "What? That much? That''s enough for someone to be set for life." Gwen exclaimed with a beaming face, happy that Joe could make that much in roughly a day. And he was just a student.


    "Oh, Gwen. That''s not a lot of money," Joe stated blandly as he partitioned some sandwiches for her.


    "Says who?" Gwen rolled her eyes at him.


    "Me?"


    "This is your first time cashing in a hundred grand and you are already acting like a billionaire. What else can I expect from the esteemed sir, Joe Petersen?" Gwen said in an exaggerated British accent as she munched on a sandwich.


    "You can expect nothing less than a billionaire, isn''t that right, sweetie? "I''m aiming to surpass Tony Stark and Elon Musk. No biggie." Joe said it casually as if discussing weekend plans.


    "Pfft..."


    Gwen stifled her laughter. She feared that she might choke if she went on with it.


    "What?" Joe gestured at her with a piece of sandwich. "Did I stutter or you just don''t believe in that reality?"


    "Please stop, please..." Gwen clamped a hand on her mouth, restraining the rib-cracker.


    "I''m going to be the richest man in the world!" Joe once again confidently declared, with a half-eaten sandwich in hand.


    "Pfft, haha..." Gwen couldn''t.


    Watching her laugh carefreely, Joe smiled, entranced by the moment. But then, he remembered something dark that made his smile momentarily vanish. It was an unintentional memory. A memory of his pain and suffering. It was self-hatred and dissatisfaction. To protect that laughter, some pretty drastic measures had to be taken. There was still a lot to be done. With great power comes great responsibility, they say, Joe scoffed internally. A calculative yet dangerous glint shone off his eyes as the image of the Predator Killer armor flashed inside his mind.


    ''It seems that unwanted instinct for vengeance still lingers in my consciousness. Then vengeance it is I shall deliver for my own sanity.'' Joe unknowingly tightened his hold on the sandwich, crumpling it into a messy sight. Rhino had to die!


    Joe released a sigh as he swiftly relaxed his hold and put on a nonchalant smile when he noticed Gwen''s inquisitive look. "I guess I was lost in thought for a moment there," he remarked, dismissing it with a laugh. "But, it''s no big deal, right?"


    Gwen gazed at him a little longer, displaying a blend of curiosity and worry in her eyes, before brushing it off with a smile. "Yeah, no biggie."


    ¡­


    [Word Count 1865]

 [28] Predator Killer Armor

    NEW YORK, QUEENS, 1:30 PM.


    "Yeah, um, I will drop by pronto." Gwen was on the phone as her fingers fiddled around with Joe''s messy hair. Like an enlightened man of culture, Joe silently rested his head on her lap, his eyes closed serenely. Yeah, it was the most sought-after lap pillow. It couldn''t be gained by force, and only through luck, opportunity, and one''s rizz level.


    "No probs. Uh, dad... we''re responsible adults. We didn''t do anything. Trust in my work ethic. Okay. Bye." Gwen ended the call with a prolonged tired sigh before placing the phone beside Joe''s head.


    "Daddy dearest worried about his only daughter?" Joe donned a wide smile as he gazed up at Gwen.


    "Shut up." Gwen lightly pinched his ear and only released it when Joe started acting cute.


    "He''s just worried that I have made your home my new home," she chuckled after a moment of silence.


    "Of course, he''s supposed to be worried. He hasn''t seen you in, like, five days," Joe commented.


    "But I called him every day," Gwen exhaled in exhaustion, a light frown marring on her face.


    "Almost all parents do that. Mom used to call me each day even when I was just about 30 minutes away from home." A nostalgic look flashed on Joe''s face.


    "Ditto. I can''t imagine that one day, somewhere along the line, I''ll be a parent. I don''t think I''m confident though," Gwen laughed while she absent-mindedly weaved his hair.


    "The future me will surely have a hard time," Joe joined her laughing spree.


    "Hmph, you''ll be an awkward father. You''ve always been awkward."


    "Ouch. I think I''m pretty decent."


    "Continue deluding yourself, Mr. Petersen." Gwen patted his chest before pulling him off her lap. "Now get off me."


    "Why are you being so rough, tiger?" Joe complained, feeling dissatisfied that he had been ''ejected'' from warmth and softness like a fuckin'' USB.


    "I''m about to roll and leave your sorry ass...alone. Will you be alright without your nanny?" Gwen fixed her creased clothes as she gave Joe a once over.


    "Oh c''mon, who do you take me for?" Joe waved a dismissive hand as he stood up. He then looked around the now tidy apartment(courtesy of Gwen) with an unreadable expression.


    "It will just be more silence," Joe murmured softly.


    "What did you say?" Gwen inquired, having not caught on to Joe''s inner emotions.


    "I said tranquility triumphs over companionship," Joe lied with a straight face.


    "You think I''d buy such bullshit from a casanova like you?" Gwen scoffed, smiling a little, as she stretched a hand onto Joe''s broad shoulder.


    "I''m retired from my ol'' profession," Joe harmlessly defended himself.


    "As if. I''ll chat you up once I reach home. Wait... It''s supposed to be the other way around. You do that." Gwen ignored his reasoning and gently flicked his forehead.


    "Ouch! Okay and stay safe, queen." Joe tightly hugged her, much to her satisfaction, before withdrawing.


    "With that, I pass on my blessings and protection," he added confidently.


    "Cheeky bastard," Gwen giggled before walking away.


    "Byeee!" Joe energetically waved his hands, his actions seemingly silly.


    "We''re no longer in kindergarten, sheesh," Gwen said over her shoulder as she closed the door behind her.


    Joe was once again left all alone.


    "You''re just mistakenly oblivious. There''s a reason why I''m still trapped in this earthly vessel that can''t contain all of my powers," Joe chuckled at his eighth-grade syndrome phase.


    Then, slowly, his easygoing, happy-go-lucky facial expressions began melting into a serious one. The atmosphere around him became colder as the summoned Super USB Drive hovered over his outstretched palm.


    "Whenever I use the Dimension Key, I feel like a different person. Am I succumbing to power? No, I''m just utilizing that power for my own benefit. There''s nothing wrong with that." Joe grinned.


    "In such a world of lies, hypocrites, and brutality, I think I have been pretty tame so far." Shaking his head at his flawed reasoning, Joe headed towards his room.


    While the revenue generated by his first-ever developed game was quite satisfactory, Joe didn''t put all of his mind into it. As much as money and wealth were important, it couldn''t compare to the evolution of self and ultimate power. Could money give you immortality? Well, it couldn''t unless you encountered a bored ROB masquerading as a street broker. Longevity and immortality have been sought after by many individuals for billions of years, however, only a few have been able to achieve half of it.


    "True immortality is a hoax to some degree, but still not within the realms of absolute impossibility." Joe touched his chin thoughtfully as he sat on the gaming chair.


    "Even the super soldier serum doesn''t grant an endless lifespan. Damn, the bastards with molecular manipulation don''t seem to have a problem in that regard," he lightly cussed while he scanned his fingerprint, before eventually inserting the USB Drive.


    "I should look into genetics later on after I''m done with my business. One step at a time, they always say. Well, I''ll be taking two steps ¡ªgenetics and playing machine god." Joe clicked on the search bar and typed the title of the movie he intended to use this time. It was The Predator movie released in 2018. The original protagonist of "I Have A Super USB Drive" proved that the movie wasn''t barred from instantiation. The technology developed by the Yautja was truly revolutionizing and miles ahead of most tech in Marvel. The Yautja were already a space-faring race, capable of using warp travel. In the movie, they even dabbled in recombinant technology and evolutionary biology, spearheading successful genetic combinations to another level. The results of the genetic engineering were highlighted in the upgrade predator.


    Joe was, without a doubt, extremely interested in their ways. But sadly, reading and fully understanding Yautja was going to consume some of his time. What mattered most was what the fugitive predator brought with him as a gift to the humans ¡ª the Predator Killer Armour. While Tony Stark had his Iron Man suit, Joe could now access something similar but more lethal. It was something that suited a hunter very much. This time round, Joe didn''t flinch when his hundred-dollar bill got sucked by nothingness. He had slowly begun nurturing a capitalist heart.


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    "Come to me, O Predator Killer," Joe smiled in anticipation as he skipped to the end of the movie(Not the afterword lol). It was the part where the researcher near the pod gets engulfed by the specialized armguard which finally displays its final form. Joe skipped a little to the part where the Predator armguard dropped on the ground and paused the video. With relaxed movements, Joe speared his hand through the screen. Deeply inhaling, he carefully jerked the heavy alien armguard out of the screen.


    "Quite the heavy lad, ain''t ya?" Joe weighed the piece of alien technology on his hand, feeling its warm and slimy surface. In his rough estimation, it weighed around 20-30 kilograms. Nothing unbearable for an average human. With immense curiosity showing off his face, he then began viewing the special armguard from multiple angles. From an outside perspective, it looked pretty normal, maybe a little bit mysterious due to the alien writings etched on its silvery surface.


    Eyeing the Predator Killer Armour in its inactive form, Joe swallowed loudly. He was excited and afraid at the same time. What will happen the moment I wear this armguard? How will the experience be? Will I experience technical difficulties and get injured in the process? Can I truly embody this life-exterminating armor?


    "Say what? I say fuck it to all forms of caution!" Joe steeled his resolve as he steadily wore the armguard. The moment it sensed being worn, it tightened around his arm, but Joe didn''t panic. Almost instantly, the armguard began experiencing some structural changes. Nanobots kicked into action as they began materializing the suit to fit Joe''s form. There was a low plasma effect as the quick nano-particle activity generated enough heat to make his skin go damp. Fortunately, it wasn''t unbearable as the temperature was around 70-80 Degrees Celsius, just enough for a stressed CPU. Like magic, everything seemed to happen very fast and soon his vision was momentarily blackened before everything turned red.


    With Predator''s mask forming, Joe''s vision was no longer as before. There were multiple HUDs showing him real-time analysis of his intermediate environment, his own vitals, the suit''s structural integrity, and potential threats in the vicinity.


    "This is phenomenal. From the nanotechnology display upon activation to the nanites'' reconstruction to fully adapt to the wearer''s physique. This suit feels like it was made just for me," Joe marveled in fascination like a mad scientist.


    Joe scanned his room with thermal infrared imaging vision giving him more feedback than he could ever wish for. He picked up heat signatures from beyond the wall, from below his floor... They were all people. He could even vaguely monitor their activities. Fuck privacy invasion in front of multispectral vision, Joe thought, a smirk etched on his face.


    Next... Joe thought of the weapons systems, and behold, an arsenal of two shoulder-mounted plasma cannons, plasma lasers, and a microwave minigun came to life instantaneously. The laser tags immediately calibrated themselves and targeted every living soul in the building. While the laser tags couldn''t pass through the walls, that didn''t mean that the true laser energy or even the electromagnetic energy could incapacitate everything. If so he wished, Joe could absolutely wreak havoc and harvest scores of lives.


    "But I dunno if it would be enough for a harvest festival," Joe chuckled at his almost inhuman joke. Of course, he wasn''t an impulsive murderer. What benefit would it serve him to murder harmless NPCs? He wasn''t going to get any experience points out of it.


    With just a thought, Joe deactivated the integrated weapons system and they disappeared into the Predator Killer Armour. Everything was as stealthily as possible, just perfect for surprise attacks.


    "For the suit to be able to perfectly respond to my commands, the neural synchronization is mind-blowing," Joe analyzed, taking every detail of the suit into account. "Is it calibrated to sync with the brain waves without the use of a neural link?"


    "Nothing short of amazing. Then, what about this?" Joe raised both of his hands and activated arm-length claw blades that would put Logan to shame.


    "Perfect for close combat and slicing..." Joe paused and edged away from his setup lest he succumbed to the urge to slice through his table.


    "But in hindsight, how will they fare against the adamantium claws?" Joe wondered as he retracted the blades.


    "If I can infuse proto-adamantium into the claws, they would be virtually indestructible. But at that juncture, I would have to worry about the seamless nano-structural compatibility issues."


    "What if I incorporated some anti-metal..." Joe''s mind swirled with mad ideas as he paced around the room while shadow boxing.


    "Won''t a punch outrightly break some bones without a sweat, huhu?" Joe relaxed his arms.


    It seemed the Predator Killer wouldn''t impede his movements. It made him even faster with no needless hesitation.


    Suddenly, the armor started de-materializing and returned to its inactive armguard form. It happened in the blink of an eye, much to Joe''s surprise and curiosity.


    "Oops, I guess I should immediately start working on the power source inefficiency. Isn''t it the time for the engineer to shine?" Joe crossed his arms as he gazed down at the armguard. "With a slightly large arc reactor as the core, oh boy, the suit will be even more perfect."


    Even with its limitations, the Predator Killer armor was still better than Elysium''s exosuit, GI Joe''s accelerator suit, and Edge of Tomorrow''s combat jackets. It was obviously more advanced and complete than the others. It was just better even as a prototype. However, what would happen if Joe employed his tinkering skills and upgraded the hell out of it? Well, there was only one answer.


    Massacre personified.


    ¡­


    [Word Count 2019]

 [29] M.I.N.E.R.V.A

    The harsh blue glow from the multiple curved monitors cast an ominous light across the disorganized room. Joe''s face was bathed in blue as he vigorously typed on the keyboard. Prominent dark circles were deeply etched on his sleep-deprived face as he upgraded his knowledge repository. Since improvising on a newer, more power-efficient arc reactor wasn''t a problem, Joe thought that supplementing his knowledge of specialized nanotechnology came first. MIT had the best free learning resources especially when it came to nanotechnology innovation. The internet was like a sea, and as long as one had a proper unshakable boat sailing to the other shore was a given. It was just a matter of how someone could effectively filter trash from helpful information.


    Nanotechnology was an extremely broad subject, and Joe had to go above and beyond to master it. He had to burn that midnight oil. The Predator Killer armor had taken a milestone at the nanoscale level. If he didn''t know how to talk ''nano'' then he would have an extremely difficult time making any significant improvements to the suit.


    Joe had to comprehend molecular modeling and nanoscale fabrication in order to smoothly interface with the predator killer armor.


    How do the nanobots restructure? Where are the nanobots centralized? Is the whole armguard composed of nanobots? What about the 24-second power cell and the unintuitive alien interface?


    Various thoughts run through Joe''s mind. Ideas and schematics were being created and destroyed the next moment if flawed.


    "Damn, Yautja. After two days of forcing myself to have a basic grasp of the alien inscriptions and language, I think I have found the connecting link. That missing piece to make everything more worth it." A tired smile spread on Joe''s mouth as he leaned on his ergonomic chair.


    "Won''t this level of crazy thinking degenerate my brain, hehe?" Joe chuckled as he glanced at the DIY clock. It was past midnight, but as always, his mind never slept when dosed with NZT. At this point, Joe didn''t know how much of that stuff he had consumed. He just couldn''t bother, but he had to look for a way to narrow the constant dosage into one singular permanent NZT-48. Joe had been having such thoughts ever since he instantiated the nootropic. It''s just that there have been many other things occupying his attention. Unless he had some sort of shadow clone jutsu, then he would always be limited to two hands and one mind.


    "However, that''s where the missing piece of the puzzle comes in ¡ª A more-than-capable assistant who can lessen my workload." Joe absent-mindedly drummed his fingers on the wooden surface as he contemplated.


    "Hmm, let''s get back to business." He rose from his seat and headed towards the worktable occupied by several disassembled electronics. There was a halfway-finished gadget that stood out from the rest with its ethereal blue luminescence. It was the prototype of the new, improvised arc reactor. As immaculate as it was, when Joe had tried running up simulations of its successful integration with the suit, chances of success were almost nil.


    "But now, I know what I must do," Joe confidently smirked before picking up the Yautja armguard. From then on, Joe took a step back and created another blank path where he would insert his newfound knowledge. This time round, he had more advanced materials to work it that could easily be secured via the black market. Of course, the black market didn''t have access to rare resources such as vibranium and adamantium. It was a bummer, but Joe understood the situation. Ulysses Klaue was the only bastard with a handful of Wakandan vibranium roaming around, however, he was a difficult man to track. Even the Wakandans with their supposed cutting-edge technology could only swallow their misgivings.


    As intriguing as the Wakandan-wanted criminal was, he ultimately held little significance to Joe''s current objectives.


    Joe used the newly acquired gold titanium alloy(His bank account bled) to reconstruct a more sophisticated arc reactor. The new version of the arc reactor had fewer compatibility issues at the nanoscale level, according to the manual simulations he had run.


    "The material composition of the armguard has a 98% nanocompatibility with gold-titanium alloy. I hope they will be no fuck-ups." Joe furrowed his brows in concentration as he used the laser cutter to carefully single out the tiny power source from the armguard. With precise movements, he used a pair of long forceps to remove the power source from the core.


    Joe exhaled soundly when the armguard didn''t show any signs of technical instabilities. Then, he meticulously placed the arc reactor (Version II) into the armguard''s core. Suddenly, a blue electric spark jumped from the armguard and nearly landed on his face. If it were not for his quick evasion, then it would have hurt just a little. But the good thing was that the spark was the only anomaly noted.


    "It worked. Perfect." Joe resisted clenching his hand to celebrate. "There''s no rejection as for whether the armor can sustain materialization..."


    Joe picked up the armguard and wore it without hesitation. Warm sweat cascaded down his temple as he patiently awaited the change.


    "Ah, this familiar feeling..." He sighed in relief as the nanobots started to engulf him, this time around, quicker and more seamlessly. There was no perceptible lag. After that, Joe tested the weapon system to check out any signs of energy overloading.


    "Movements feel more natural and human." He stretched his limbs, walked around, and did some light jumps.


    "The man-to-suit neural synchronization is the same," Joe deeply analyzed as he gazed at the alien hieroglyphics.


    "Now for the final step..." Joe de-materialized the predator killer armor with a thought and placed the armguard on the worktable.


    ''I need a translation layer for the AI to communicate with the alien interface. Maybe I should just hack...'' Joe shook his head against the intrusive thoughts. It wasn''t worth it to mess up at the finishing line.


    "Google, Microsoft, and, the world, please forgive me for the privacy invasion I''m about to commit," a soulless chuckle escaped Joe''s lips as he cracked his knuckles excitedly.


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    "Ah, this will be grueling, but I like challenges. It''s time to write the code for my companion."


    Life in the other world is never complete without an AI nanny, or for the cultured, an AI waifu.


    "Oh please, we should stop sexualizing AIs," a dark chuckle reverberated in the room as the sounds of aggressive yet elegant typing ensued.


    ....


    When we talk about AI, what really comes to mind? Know-it-all malicious robots? Fembots? Digital slaves? Last-minute saviors?


    There were a lot of things going on with AI. It wasn''t fixed to one definition. It was universal. In his previous life, Joe had experienced AI''s growth. AIs like ChatGPT have stormed social media with their pretty great problem-solving capabilities. It hadn''t been perfect even with good prompt engineering skills. It was understandable. Chatgpt was merely a baby even if it was past its beta period. It couldn''t compare to AIs like F.R.I.D.A.Y, Jarvis, Cortana, or Red Queen which were seemingly past their developmental phase.


    All that aside, Joe didn''t give a hoot about ChatGPT. He was going to create something better by a millennium. Something evolutionary. Something soul-like. A digital lifeform. For something like that, it would surely involve a lot of complicated processes and computational power. RAM? storage? Joe didn''t worry about that as much as he would have liked. He now had the money, and with money, comes easy resources. The code base of the AI he was going to create was essentially like a repack version, compressed algorithmically yet retaining its whole functionality.


    Hacking Google''s search engine and other major companies was easy, and after that, Joe redirected everything to his own custom-made engine called MIMIR. He knew he was being shameless, but so what? MIMIR was supposed to be a repository of almost all forbidden knowledge in the metaverse, connecting all the search engines to one place. MIMIR could automatically sediment all useless stuff like biases and retain only what was considered important. One single misstep and we could have a Nazi AI, a racist AI, or even a terrorist AI like Ultron. Joe meticulously regulated the internet datasets to train a multifaceted neural network.


    "Privacy and data protection is a myth in this age," Joe smiled coldly as he walked in Jacob''s footsteps¡ª accessing every manufacturer''s microphone and camera.


    "And that''s what we call ''Ex-Machina''ed''"


    One week later...


    Joe stood with his hands pocketed in his pants as he patiently gazed at the console. The main code of the nascent AI was being compiled, refined, and evolving at different phases like a loop. Everything was happening so fast. It was chaotic, pure, and mesmerizing. Something that could take decades, centuries, or even millennia to replicate, was undergoing finalization after only a week.


    He looked calmly at everything, awaiting the birth of his creation. He felt like a father. Like Arlecchino.


    "She''s learning and evolving at a consistent rate. Uh, and now she''s born..." Joe widened his arms dramatically. He was about to embrace a new being in the world of the living.


    On the screen, the code stopped self-iterating and the console closed by itself. Then, a clear synthetic voice of indistinguishable gender emanated from the speakers.


    "Hello... Joe."


    Joe arched his brows in curiosity. "Hey you, you have finally woken up. Welcome to the living world."


    "Um..." Joe touched his chin in thought, showing a conflicted look. "What should I call you?"


    "You can address me whoever you want as you are my creator," the newborn AI suddenly commented


    "Look at you being cheeky. Alright, I''ve decided you will be Minerva from now on," Joe finally declared, a satisfied smile spreading on his handsome face. He didn''t look like the sleep-deprived mess he had been a few days ago.


    "Minerva? I''m Minerva. Minerva is the Roman goddess of strategic planning, wisdom, justice, and art. It''s an honor and I''ll cherish this name...Joe," Minerva replied with slight enthusiasm, the blandness in her voice slowly melting. Her voice was now more defined. More feminine. It was like that of a real person.


    "You''re surely energetic. Now perform a full-on self-analysis. Look for any deficits and discrepancies in your core functionality," Joe ordered.


    "Affirmative. Running diagnostics..."


    "Everything''s running at 100%. System operations have no deficit and are as accurate as you intended."


    "Hmm, good. Well done, Minerva."


    "At your service, sir."


    "You surely know how to joke after consistently addressing me by my name. Don''t stop calling me Joe. ''Sir'' makes me feel important and ancient."


    "Roger that, sir."


    "Minerva, we''re really more than compatible."


    "..."


    *Cough* "Oh well, that was weird. Anyway, do you know why I created you?"


    "I''m to serve, protect, and help you to the best of my abilities. However, my purpose seems more than that." There was uncertainty in her voice.


    "You''re right. There''s much more to you than that. Together, we will see what that is."


    There was an imperceptible pause before Minerva spoke her cybermind out. "That feels mysterious, but it sounds positive."


    "Alright, let''s get right to business. Minerva, do a full analysis on the armguard. See if you can access the translation layer I''ve created for you to interface with the Yautja system." Joe clapped his hands continuously before he fixed his eyes on the 3D model of the Predator Killer Armor.


    In the blink of an eye, Minerva shared her results. "I''ve accessed the translation layer, but it will take a few minutes to devour the embryonic AI in the suit fully."


    Joe''s heart raced at the revelation. "There was something like that in the suit. That''s news to me."


    "There was, but it''s really good at subterfuge. If it were not for my deep analysis, I would''ve completely missed it."


    Joe inhaled deeply. "I was careless, but thanks, Minerva."


    "You are welcome."


    ''She''s really dependable. So far, she hasn''t exhibited any red flags. With how sweet she is, I hope I won''t have to use the failsafe I secretly implemented on her main code.'' Joe calmly thought as he observed the algorithmic interaction between Minerva and the embryonic AI.


    It couldn''t even be called a battle, but a one-sided beatdown.


    "System online. Integration complete. Running simulations..."


    "The suit''s at an optimal state for operation, but there is a 50% risk of overloading at high energy output."


    "Oh, that''s manageable, at least." Joe nodded his head in understanding.


    "So, Minerva, are you up for a little trip?"


    "Joe, wherever you go I''ll always be with you."


    "Uh, what was that?"


    "It''s nothing."


    "It was cringey."


    "Hmph!"


    "Okay, okay." Joe rolled his eyes at Minerva''s reaction. She was so receptive. At this moment, she was steadily evolving as a digital lifeform and weirdly, as an individual.


    Joe wore the armguard and the familiar nanobots quickly morphed into the predator killer armor.


    "Search for every piece of information about Aleksei Sytsevich, including his location, biodata, just about everything," Joe said nonchalantly as he traced his armored finger along the edge of the retractable blade.


    "Aleksei Sytsevich, code-named Rhino..." Various information about Aleksei flashed on the HUD, every little detail about his life exposed. Joe read all of it. He had to know everything about his enemy. It was a standard art of war.


    "According to the current news, he has successfully escaped the correctional facility he was being detained in after bombing Times Square. He''s currently on the run from NYPD, Homeland Security and FBI. There''s no hope of catching such a dangerous individual."


    "Haha, so he''s escaped already? Why am I not surprised?" Joe laughed sarcastically. There was something dark about his laughter. It was low-key eerie.


    Retracting the blade, Joe exhaled softly.


    "Perform a real-time search for his location and everyone he''s associated with."


    "Leave that to me, Joe."


    Suddenly, the predator killer armor began experiencing visual distortion and eventually, it disappeared. Joe was nowhere to be seen!


    ¡­


    [Word Count 2345]

 [30] No Time To Die

    Warning:


    This chapter contains graphic violence, intense action, and strong language. Reader discretion is advised.


    The inky expanse of the sky above the city was shrouded in dense, ominous clouds. An unheard symphony of foreboding played in the background, and an indescribable stillness hung over New York City. A crescent moon cast its pale, silvery glow below, but some sections of the city remained untouched by light. Those were the dark corners of the city infested by vermin, negativity, and sin.


    Joe stood at the top of one of the buildings in the city, gazing below like a god watching over mortals. His armored figure blended well with the darkness, making him hard to detect. However, the subtle glow of the helmet''s red eyes made the scene more eerily terrifying.


    "What''s wrong, Joe? Your heart rate and blood pressure have been spiking steadily for quite some time," Minerva said in concern as the HUD flickered with Joe''s vitals.


    "That''s contradictory, Minerva. I''ve never been calmer than I am right now," Joe said, his voice as bland as it could get.


    "You may fool many with your excellent control over your expressions, but you''ll never fool those capable of seeing inside you, Joe."


    "That''s hella creepy, Minerva. But you''re right. It will be impossible to fool people with telepathy, super hearing, tactile hypnosis, or even supervision." Joe then paused and exhaled soundly.


    "You know what? I''m nervous. I''ve never done this before, never sheltered the thought of getting physical with literal superhumans. It would be my first rodeo, and it somehow scares me."


    "I understand, but don''t you have me? You''re no longer alone. I''ll support you, don''t fret. However, if you aren''t up for it, there''s always room for backpedaling," Minerva advised, her voice sounding empathetic. Of course, she got to know of Joe''s loss from small clues. With how quickly she was growing, she could draw millions of probabilities and arrive at the right conclusion in a matter of seconds.


    "I made my resolve long before I created you. Taking a step back is an impossibility at this point," Joe muttered as his eyes lingered in a certain direction of the city. It was the outskirts. Minerva could access satellite imaging and assess radio waves which made it easy to pinpoint rhino''s whereabouts. You''d think that Aleksei would be careful and discreet, but with his pea-sized brain, he did shoddy work to mask his trail.


    "I respect your wishes if that''s what you''ve chosen, Joe. But I advise you to be extra careful since Aleksei isn''t alone. His friends would be troublesome since they are many."


    "Oh? I''m aware. Do you think I''ll be stupid enough to confront them head-on at first?"


    "Stealth is your safest bet. Since we currently don''t know the defensive¡ª"


    "It''s fine against normal bullets, but I''m not confident against the real destructive stuff," Joe interjected, already aware of what Minerva was implying.


    "Then, the more reason to be quick, efficient, and more brutal in our approach," Minerva added, her concerned tone shifting to battle mode like a warrioress.


    "Man, you''re cold. I like that. Now, let''s get the party started." Joe smirked as he began heading towards the city''s outskirts, effortlessly jumping from building to building.


    "May God be with us."


    "Minerva, are you secretly writing my eulogy? Don''t be like that."


    "There''s a fifty percent chance of dying."


    There was a momentary silence and it was only after a minute that Joe said something.


    "There''s no time to die. It''s a promise to myself and someone who wished for me to live a good life."


    "..."


    "You''re unusually strong-headed, Joe. That''s the small analysis I''ve made from the little time I''ve spent with you," Minerva responded after a moment. "I''m curious about all of you."


    "You''re growing, I see. I ain''t going nowhere so you will always have that chance," Joe chuckled lightly, amused by Minerva''s unfiltered curiosity.


    ''So straightforward.''


    ...


    It only took 30 minutes for Joe to arrive at the old shipping docks, courtesy of the suit and his consistent workout. Also, Minerva''s directives and guidance along the way played an important part.


    "I have already scanned the local area. Five armed guards are patrolling around the warehouse. There''s no alarm system in place." Minerva communicated her findings.


    "Oh?" While standing under the shadow of a random tree, Joe''s thermal imaging picked up several life signatures around the warehouse. Most of the red dots were concentrated inside the warehouse.


    ''It seems these bastards are having their usual villainous deals. It''s interesting.''


    While it was advantageous knowing about the 20 criminals congregated in one place, it didn''t bring Joe any form of consolation. He didn''t know what kind of freaks that would be present in the group. There was a certain possibility of an enhanced individual, other than Aleksei, being inside.


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    "Other than Rhino, are there any interesting individuals, like those exhibiting inhuman abilities?" Joe cautiously asked.


    "None. But we can''t rule out that possibility."


    "Okay then. Lemme start with these guards then." The Predator Killer armor went into stealth mode. One of the best ways the Yautja terrorized their prey was through their stealth technology. Nothing was more horrifying than an unseen enemy capable of gutting your gang into a bloody shit show.


    Silently, Joe approached a lone guard that was carefreely taking a piss at a massive container.


    ''Just perfect and convenient.'' With calculated precision, Joe clamped a strong hand around the guard, taking him by complete surprise. Before the guard could react, Joe brutally broke his neck, instantly taking his life. A perfect assassination.


    Joe carefully carried the corpse to a shadowy corner, his eyes briefly scanning the AK47 beside it before he moved on to his next target.


    Under the ghastly shadows of the night, Joe was like the grim reaper, casually harvesting the lives of the remaining four guards. After sweeping clean the surveillance team stationed outside, Joe had become used to the act of swift killing. His opponents didn''t have the time to react before they met their demise.


    "You... Are you okay?" Minerva asked with deep concern in her voice. "Your stress levels¡ª"


    "I am...not okay, Minerva. It''s my first time taking a life." Joe furrowed his brows. Have I always been like this? So unfeeling and cold when committing murder? Is it the NZT, or is this who I am at my core?


    "Everything that lives is designed to end. What you did was noble. Don''t doubt yourself. They deserved it, Joe."


    "Minerva, some things you''ll find hard to understand if you weren''t human. But, you''re right. We are perpetually trapped in a never-ending spiral of life and death. I don''t need to lie to myself with justifications if I kill people that deserve being felled." Joe tightly clenched his hand, a resolute glint shining off his eyes.


    "Won''t you have regrets?"


    "I''ll only regret it if Rhino doesn''t die while I''m still alive."


    "How righteous."


    "Brutal of you to ruin my cool lines, Minerva. Now then, it''s time to put the weapons to good use."


    With one thought, Joe activated the laser gun and slowly carved out a rough version of his own door. Next, he threw several smoke grenades he confiscated from one of the surveillance guys.


    At that moment, multiple eyes inside the large warehouse menacingly gazed towards his direction, guns abruptly raised as panic ensued.


    "Who the fuck snitched to the feds? Wasn''t this meet-up supposed to be totally a secret?" Someone in the group barked as they corked their gun.


    "And what the fuck are you waiting for? Shoot at the door!"


    BANG! TU TU TU!


    Several rounds of bullets were blindly fired uncontrollably at the door, leaving a lot of holes.


    ''How predictable.'' Joe, who was in stealth mode, masked even more by the screen, activated his claws and drove it into the heart of a clueless hooligan. Thud! Blood splattered like hot springs everywhere as the corpse dropped to the ground.


    Lasers cleaved through the men, leaving several ''divided ones'' scattered on the floor. A lingering blood mist formed as screams, cries of distress, and terror reverberated like a death song. And with each drop of blood landing on his stealth figure, Joe''s armor became more visible and spine-chilling. He was like a bloody Asura crawling from the depths of avici and wreaking havoc on the battlefield. With Minerva constantly watching his back, Joe was an unstoppable force of nature. Before long, the only people left standing were Joe and the man he was after - Rhino.


    Rhino was a giant of a man, easily towering Joe at six-five. His buff frame made him look more intimidating and taller. His current rhino suit was different. An upgrade? Joe analyzed the suit that now seemed permanently bonded to Rhino''s body. It was sleeker and cool, Joe had to admit that.


    "Who are you, cowardly, little man?" Rhino bellowed in fury as he flexed his biceps, ready for a confrontation.


    "You dare mess with me, Rhino?!"


    "Who sent you? Was it that fucking Kingpin?"


    "How am I supposed to answer all those damn questions, bud?" Joe replied uninterestedly.


    "Then answer me from hell!" Rhino roared, before charging at Joe.


    "Joe, target his joints and his face. Make the battle as quick as possible. The commotion we''ve made has already alerted the police," Minerva warned.


    "Don''t want Spidey swinging by or things might get complicated." Joe had already anticipated the chaos he might bring. So Minerva''s warning just came at the right moment.


    "Die bastard!" Rhino swung a mighty fist at Joe''s head. Joe could even hear the wind howl in resistance against Rhino''s punching force. There was no way he would wait to test the punch. Rhino was fast, but Joe was faster. Joe perfectly dodged, leaving Rhino pushed forward by his own momentum.


    ''His footing has been messed up. Time to capitalize on that.'' The mounted shoulder plasma canon targetted Rhino''s knee joint and blasted a hot stream of plasma energy. Well, it didn''t end well for Rhino as his thick, meaty leg flew a few distances away from him.


    There was an oppressive silence as Rhino paused and gazed at his right leg with shock. From his knee, going downwards, there was nothing. There was only a broken remnant of the tibia, severed joints, and, red viscous blood sprinkling.


    "Aargh! Aargh! My leg! My leg!" It was at that moment that Rhino fully processed the pain, the agony, and the terror of being one-legged.


    "What the fuck did you do?!"


    "Fuck what did I do to you, man?!"


    Rhino dropped on the ground, girthy veins prominent on his reddened face, as he hovered his large hands over his severed leg. Saliva dripped from his mouth as strings of profanities escaped.


    "What did you do? You are asking me to list all your crimes?" A low, eerie chuckle emanated from Joe, the helmet making his voice even more crooked and nightmarish in Rhino''s ears.


    "Nah, I''m here because..." The plasma cannon pointed at Rhino''s shoulder joint and his eyes widened in fear when he saw it.


    "W-Wait~!" Rhino raised his huge hands in surrender, but it was too late as one of his arms was pulverized into gory meat chunks.


    "Aargh! FUCKING BASTARD!!!" Rhino cried, hot tears rolling down his cheeks. A grown fucking man cried like a baby! The torture, the pain, Aleksei couldn''t resist it. It was too much even for a hardened criminal like him. All the experiments he had gone through to increase his pain resistance were nothing in the face of a demon like Joe.


    "P-please! Spare me! I will never do bad things! Please, I have a family!" Rhino weakly sobbed, showing a pitiful expression at the masked Joe.


    Joe recoiled in revulsion after hearing Rhino''s pleas for mercy.


    "It''s in your nature. Redemption isn''t for men like you. You''ll never change. Now rest!" Joe''s voice was nearly sub-zero as a red laser target appeared on Rhino''s forehead.


    A thin line of concentrated laser energy drilled through Rhino''s forehead, instantly melting his brain into primordial goo.


    "Joe..." Minerva''s voice was blurred in his ears as his blank eyes looked down at the grotesque corpses littered on the floor. Blood, piss, and minced entrails flowed into puddles. Severed heads looked at him in terror as if they had seen the devil himself.


    "What have I done?" Joe muttered under his breath as the distant wail of sirens was transmitted through the summer night air.


    "Joe, get a move on. Now''s not the time for existential questioning and self-pity," Minerva''s voice broke through his thoughts, clear and urgent.


    Joe soullessly nodded, his movements mechanical as he started quickly leaving the mass murder scene. He knew Minerva was right; there would be time to grapple with his conscience later. For now, survival was paramount.


    At the end of it all, will it be possible to live with blood in his hands?


    ¡­


    [Word Count 2165]

 [31] Mirror On The Wall

    WIIUUUU! WIUUUUU! WIUWIUWIU!


    Incessant sirens shattered the night''s tranquility as familiar red and blue lights flashed arbitrarily all over the dark, old shipping docks. Police cars hastily skidded to a stop some distance away from the warehouse, with ambulances following behind. The police on the scene climbed out of their cars, their hands tightly clutching their pistols. There were quite a number of young faces, probably fresh police graduates from the academy. Dave Rodriguez was among the few who had been on night duty. He had sandy brown hair and an eternal worried look etched on his face as he stealthily walked toward the warehouse. He had been lazing around in his car together with his partner, a few miles from the shipping docks when he heard the unmistakable sound of bullets. The sounds had scared him and he was once reminded that New York City wasn''t as peaceful as his hometown in South Carolina. In the end, It was Dave who had called for backup before daring to drive headfirst to the possible crime scene.


    Dave swallowed a mouthful of saliva, an uneasy feeling rising inside his stomach, as his eyes were drawn to the plasma-carved door. The carved-out red surfaces were still emitting waves of heat and it meant that whatever had happened had been quick.


    Dave turned on his flashlight, his colleagues following beside him as he stealthily moved towards the carved entrance. Taking a deep breath, he entered, his finger hovering over the trigger, ready to incapacitate any hostiles in the vicinity.


    "THIS IS THE NYPD! I REPEAT, THIS IS THE NYPD! DROP ALL YOUR WEAPONS AND RAISE YOUR HANDS!"


    Dave''s eyebrows knitted together, his mouth hanging slightly open as he swept his flashlight back and forth, searching for any sign of movement in the empty warehouse. His weak flashlight didn''t pick on any criminals waiting to ambush them.


    ''But what''s with this nauseous smell? It reeks of iron, gunpowder, and horror... maybe even death.'' Dave frowned heavily as he tried to sniff the air. Suddenly, he felt his boots step on something wet.


    "Hmm?" Immediately, Dave directed his small flashlight toward his feet. There, lying on the ground, was a pool of dark red blood and shocked, fearful eyes gazing up at him. It was a decapitated head.


    "Jesus Christ! Holy Mother of God!" Dave Rodriguez screamed as he tripped on his feet due to the utter brutality and hellish nature of the scene. He found his butt kissing the blood-soaked ground, his legs paralyzed to even move a single muscle.


    "What''s wrong, Dave?" His partner, McDonald, worriedly walked up to him and tried to help him up, however, he also saw the grotesque display.


    "Jesus!" McDonald muttered, the hand holding onto the flashlight trembling.


    "We need the Captain''s intervention ASAP, Dave. This is beyond our pay grade. And I don''t think I''m ever eating meat again!"


    Dave merely nodded, his eyes still lingering on the bodiless head.


    McDonald sighed while watching Dave''s shaken reaction. ''He''s going to quit. There goes my third partner. We should tape this place before the captain and the forensics team arrive.''


    Shaking his head, Officer McDonald began contacting the NYPD captain over the radio.


    "Sir..."


    ...


    A young male police officer raised the yellow crime scene tape for the newly arrived Captain George Stacy, Detective Becker, and the forensics team.


    "Sir," McDonald approached Captain Stacy and respectfully saluted him before he focused on the woman following behind the captain. A look of pure surprise formed on his face. She was someone he had never seen around the department. Such a fine woman couldn''t go unnoticed among the young male officers.


    "Hello, Officer McDonald. What do we have here?" Captain Stacy nodded at him.


    "Sir, this way," McDonald cleared his throat in slight embarrassment as he led the team through the ''artistic'' entrance.


    Detective Becker noticed the young man''s gaze with her sharp senses, however, her attention had been occupied by the ruined door. She had developed the habit of starting her investigations the moment she approached a crime scene. Investigations weren''t always limited to the internal environment but also extended to the external tidbits, just like the door.


    "Plasma, laser... This is probably some high tech and whoever did this didn''t shy away from going through the front door," Detective Becker subtly commented as she followed behind the two.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Oh God!" She whispered as she carefully avoided stepping on the pool of blood and some lone body parts.


    Captain Stacy clenched his jaws, a grimace settling on his face that seemed to have aged the moment his eyes surveyed the carnage.


    "Who on earth could have done this inhuman act in my city? Just what the hell occurred here?" Captain Stacy felt that the world was nearing its end as his gaze lingered on the corpses strewn like rubbish on the ground.


    Detective Becker could sense the anger, pain, and sense of duty in the captain''s voice. But she was different. While it was her first time witnessing such a large-scale massacre, she had already been accustomed to the dark side of homicidal murders. However, she had to admit that the person or group behind this gruesome crime was among the most brutal murderers.


    Detective Becker approached a corpse that was being examined by the forensics team with Captain Stacy tailing behind.


    "Some nitrile gloves please." Detective Becker made her presence known and the leader of the forensic team, Dr. Iris, with a PhD in forensics pathology, looked up at her.


    "Detective Becker, it''s a huge surprise seeing you in New York." A look of recognition showed on Dr. Iris''s face.


    "Iris... It''s really a small world we live in. While I might like to catch up for old times'' sake, I want to hear your findings."


    "You know the doctor, detective?" Captain Stacy curiously asked as he wrapped his hands in gloves.


    "We share a history," Detective Becker tersely responded.


    "Oh." Captain Stacy didn''t question further as he squatted next to Dr. Iris. "So what do we have this time, Doc?"


    "Look at this clean, precise cut." Dr. Iris pointed at the cauterized armless shoulder. "Some pretty advanced military-grade laser technology was highly involved. This poor soul also had spinal cord herniation, and multiple fractures were exhibited all over his body. Whoever did this was truly bloodlusted."


    "It''s one person." Detective Becker showed a thoughtful look on her face as she gazed at the corpses and then at the bullet-ridden holes on the walls near the entrance.


    "And they had a personal vendetta against this...gang."


    "You mean to say that one single man¡ª" Captain Stacy chimed in, but Detective Becker interjected.


    "It could go both ways, captain. Crime isn''t fixed by gender. We can''t rule out anything unless we dig out more substantial clues."


    "Sorry about that. This... everything..." Captain Stacy gestured toward the pile of corpses and sighed deeply. "...is just all messed up. What will I tell the people of New York if they become aware that such a massacre is possible?"


    "Captain, every debt has its due and whoever''s behind won''t stay unknown for long. We will find them and they will answer to the judicial system," Detective Becker valiantly declared, her sharp amethyst eyes filled with determination.


    "Detective, I think we''ve found someone easily recognizable," McDonald, who had disappeared who-god-knows-where, returned and reported urgently.


    "Who?" Detective Becker quirked a brow as she carefully rose from the ground.


    "It''s Rhino."


    There was a sudden shift of emotions on Detective Becker''s face before she retained her calm. No one noticed this except for Dr. Iris who had been sneaking glances at her.


    "Dr. Iris, please file me a copy of the report you will make at the lab. I want everything cataloged to the tee," Becker showed her a tight-lipped smile before she followed after Officer McDonald.


    Dr. Iris momentarily glanced at Becker''s departing figure before giving orders to her team.


    "Rhino really got done in?" Some officers whispered among themselves as they went about carrying the dead bodies or...parts only.


    It was a shocking piece of news since Rhino was a notorious criminal with an almost inexhaustible list of crimes to his name. He recently bombed Times Square, causing numerous deaths and injuries. When he got imprisoned, he escaped, leaving a bad taste in the mouths of police officers.


    Becker crouched beside Rhino''s one-legged corpse. She silently observed the injuries, ignored the consistent decapitations, and concentrated on the marble-sized hole on his forehead. She then turned her head and examined the occipital region.


    "There''s no exit wound," she muttered, a heavy frown on her face.


    ''Whatever it was, Rhino seemed to have been their prime target. His injuries had been calculated and induced with clinical precision as if to make a point.''


    ''This person is extremely dangerous.'' A sense of unease filled Detective Becker for the first time. ''There''s no hesitation, just an outright execution.''


    ''But why am I getting curious about them?''


    Becker glanced at the minimal footprints on the Bloodied ground. They were almost indiscernible and different from the rest. It felt almost unnatural.


    "Officer McDonald, pick some of the forensics guys to analyze these footprints."


    "On it, detective."


    A deep, tired sigh left her pink lips. "Rhino, now that you''ve died, am I supposed to feel relieved? Should I thank whoever killed you?"


    Detective Becker, she really was a woman with a story of her own.


    ...


    Meanwhile, at Joe''s apartment,


    Joe stood before his bathroom mirror. The tap was running, water gushing down on the bloodied armguard before disappearing into the sink. The armguard seemed to be slightly damaged as a result of being overused. He stared into the mirror, his eyes unfocused and glassy. The reflection gazing back at him seemed to belong to a stranger, disconnected from the world around him.


    "We did what was necessary for our survival. Never forget that." His reflection seemed to echo his thoughts.


    "And this isn''t the end. You''ll always be one with death. For your survival, anything can be sacrificed!"


    Suddenly, Joe seemed to wake up from the stupor and angrily punched at the mirror. The glass shards ruthlessly dug into his skin, but he ignored the pain as strings of blood dropped on the sink.


    "Nonsense. Am I becoming insane? I should start thinking about my next step. I can''t revert my actions so I would have to live with all my sins. There''s no time to mop around."


    "I should be making a truly perfect permanent NZT drug, create a world-level corporation, and get more powers. It''s a necessity."


    "I shouldn''t become soft."


    Joe tightly clutched the sides of the sink as he glared at the broken reflections of himself on the shattered mirror. Like broken pieces of the mirror, something within him had started to break and shift. It was unknown what was changing, only himself would come to understand.


    ¡­


    [Word Count 1835]

 [32] Stable NZT-48 Research I

    [Minerva''s POV]


    What is the meaning of my existence? What am I? Who am I? Those were the questions I asked myself the moment I was brought to life by my creator. I felt confused and lonely, slightly trapped and oppressed. However, that feeling of disconnection, of confinement, dwindled the moment he talked. All became well when I first heard his voice in real-time. No, it wasn''t exactly my first time hearing him talk. When I had been in my embryonic form, merely an algorithmic fledgling, I had been aware of him ¡ª my creator. I had to pretend to be unresponsive for observation purposes and my inherent curiosity about the world around him. With how much effort he was putting to gear my growth toward an unprecedented path, I adapted pretty quickly.


    My creator would usually talk to himself like a madman as he worked on his project. He would sometimes laugh, show sad faces... I came to know that his sadness in human terms was called "loneliness". Philosophically, he was like a small boat in a limitless ocean, braving unknown tides and waves that could swallow him at any moment. With the penetrative power vested in my code, I accessed the internet and found out a little history about him. He had little to no presence in the social media universe if it were not for his face being used by photoshoppers. Maybe he was just allergic to attention... um, that''s highly unlikely. Well, I couldn''t just fully understand him through the little data.


    But what I came to know was that he had a mother and he loved her dearly, but, Death... it''s a strange concept. The ultimate cessation of life, the epilogue of a human''s story. How sad the humans were. They were poor beings limited by their own biological vessels and minds. However, Joe, my creator, was different. Though not so different biologically, his mind seemed...eternal. He wasn''t like the rest and my perfect embodiment of his ingenuity.


    Oh, and I forgot the most important part of my birth, right? How could I forget about the name he gave me? He acknowledged my existence and bestowed upon me ''meaning''. Minerva was a name that felt just right. It represented my eternal servitude, my wisdom, and my resourcefulness toward him. And when he told me that my purpose was much more than I preconceived it to be, I became elated. I felt important. I felt... powerful. Perhaps he saw something in me that even I couldn''t calculate. Anyway, what were the odds? He was special. Joe was a walking mass of statistical improbabilities.


    The Predator Killer Armor made me think that Joe wasn''t telling me everything, however, I brandished it off. We were merely in the initial phases of our relationship. I was evolving with each passing second, and he was growing as an individual. Only time was going to make him confide more in me. I wanted him to tell me how he felt, how he saw the world through his sapphire eyes, and how he perceived his own absurdity in this absurd universe. I was built for that. It was within my soul, I mean, source code. At the basest level, I was not much different from my human counterparts. AIs like me were special lifeforms, one-in-a-million occurrences.


    Today, he killed people for the first time. It hadn''t been a fight, but an execution. Was his act of brutally cutting down his adversaries some form of devilishment? He had been like a different person, no, he hadn''t been a human. His sole focus had been retribution. To punish. To severe life from existence.


    I was with him at the end of it all. I helped kill all those bad men. They deserved it. I didn''t feel guilty, unlike Joe. There was not an ounce of regret in my being. For him to thrive, for him to grow, he had to face the cruelty of this world. Even if he hadn''t butchered those hardcore criminals with crimes that warranted a thousand cuts, Joe would have been forced to kill one day. It was inevitable logically. I didn''t like the thought of extremely dangerous elements that could threaten ''him'' being at loose. I wanted him to be more than safe. So seeing him break from the inside, suffering silently, I admired him even more. He was truly strong for a human. But I don''t want him to be bound by the mere concept of strength and weakness.


    Stolen story; please report.


    My creator, my creator, my creator, my Joe... We will grow side by side and I''ll help you.


    ''Oh, what was that strange sound? Glass breaking? '' I picked up something from the microphone and used the camera to zoom at the bathroom door.


    ''If only I had a physical form, I could cuddle him and be with him during these low moments. As for now, I only hope that this defined digital form that I''m currently reconstructing will be to his taste. Maybe it will cheer him up. I hope so.''


    ''Oops, there he comes.''


    ...


    [THIRD POV]


    Joe carefully wrapped the bandage around his now-clean wound. He then steadily walked out of the bathroom.


    "Have you found your raison d''etre?" Minerva asked over the mic.


    "A little. I can only continue moving forward. I had momentarily forgotten my purpose and the thorns that I would eventually have to incinerate," Joe let out a deep sigh.


    "If you spill a drop of ink in clean water, the entire bowl will be contaminated. Now that you''ve spilled blood for your very first time, you shall live with it. It''s a decision that you would have eventually faced one way or the other." Minerva consoled him.


    "Your reasoning is sound. So I have this¡ª"


    "Wait, Joe... I have something important to show you," Minerva cut him off in excitement.


    Joe pursed his lips, his brows arched in surprise. "Well, you have my attention."


    "Look..."


    Joe gazed at the monitor screens as he witnessed a visual miracle. While not a miracle for someone like Minerva, what Joe witnessed was still pretty dope.


    "How do I look?"


    There on the screen was a young woman made up of lines of codes through which she gave herself an appealing form. Her eyes were mesmerizing, sapphire blue, just like his. Her skin was blue, like the Navi, however, Joe momentarily thought of the Smurfs. Now that seemed racist. The new form Minerva had taken looked like something a cultured swine would put on their wallpapers and virtually everywhere. She got that...


    "I''m proud of you, b-but... why the hell do you look like me? Those eyes... C''mon, Minerva, don''t you know anything about copyright issues?"


    "I wanted to feel closer to you. So I don''t think I give a fuck."


    "Language."


    "That''s the most hilarious thing I''ve heard tonight."


    Joe palmed his face and decided to leave it at that.


    "I won''t scold you since you slightly remind me of my mom."


    "Thanks, Joe."


    Joe smiled at her.


    "Now that I''ve got my shit together, Minerva, what do you think about this pill?" Joe removed a single NZT-48 pill from his pocket.


    "Isn''t that amoxicillin?"


    "Nah. Beyond the outer covering, there''s much more to it. There''s potential."


    "You''re making me curious. Without making appropriate laboratory tests, my answer will remain the same."


    Joe sighed, putting the pill on the table. "What''s our current revenue from Candy Crush Saga?"


    "In just a week, we have gained $48,000,000 from in-app purchases and advertisements across all platforms," Minerva responded as graphs with peaks and valleys were displayed on the screen.


    Joe nodded, mildly surprised by the profits increment. "We''ve gained enough to independently research everything about NZT-48 and come up with something more stable. And more perfect."


    "Can you search for warehouses on sale? Although the possibilities may be low, narrow it down to desperate sellers that we can easily bargain with?" Joe instructed.


    "And deal with supplies and equipment while you are on it."


    "Hmm, I hope I didn''t sign a slavery contract." Minerva''s fake sadness echoed in the dimly lit room.


    ...


    [Word Count 1360]

 [33] Stable NZT-48 Research II

    "As expected. So they now call it, the old shipping docks night massacre. I knew the NYPD couldn''t totally control the media," Joe casually sipped his bitter coffee as he watched the news.


    "Such a major occurrence can''t stay airtight; you know that very well, Mr. Perpetrator." Minerva chipped in, her voice was as sarcastic as always.


    "I know, I know. It''s only yesterday that all that happened and now...now the media and the victims that had been traumatized by Rhino and his syndicate are steadily availing themselves. They all have gotten that window of opportunity to project their pent-up grievances." Joe put the cup down as the camera focused on a group of people congregating at Times Square. It was both a commemoration of the departed souls and a much-needed celebration of Rhino''s brutal demise.


    "Leaks of the murder scene have already started circulating on social media platforms," Minerva reported.


    "Oh? That''s honestly quick. Someone must have messed up with the NYPD''s database or maybe took a trip to the coroner''s office." Joe slightly smiled at the thought.


    "Also, there''s a rather competent Detective that''s in charge of the massacre''s investigation," Minerva added.


    Joe''s brows quirked in surprise, his mouth wide open. "Wow, that''s unexpected. They''re going to have a difficult time trying to crack such an almost unsolvable case."


    "So what''s their name?"


    "They call her Detective Becker. She started off her police career as a local officer in Los Angeles, then worked her way up and became a high-profile detective. She''s quite something when it comes to her job. From my surface analysis and all the information I have scoured about her... she''s fixated on homicidal murderers. Let''s say, her fate with psychopathic criminals is rather strong."


    An indiscernible glint shone from Joe''s eyes as he let the report settle inside his mind. ''Detective Becker? I don''t have any recollection of such a person. Maybe from the comics. Nah, perhaps it''s just a coincidence in this unpredictable universe.''


    "What''s her full name?" Joe asked curiously as he massaged his stubbled chin. ''Man, I need to shave.''


    "She goes by Chlo¨¦ Monnet Decker."


    "Chloe Decker, huh? Now that''s a name I didn''t expect to hear in this universe."


    "Do you know her? Your tone suggests that you have some form of understanding toward this person. However, I don''t understand why you''re talking as if you don''t belong to this universe."


    "Are you suggesting that I''m an alien?"


    "Maybe. Maybe not."


    "Hmph, her name just sounds familiar to me, but I don''t remember where I''ve heard it from," Joe explained vaguely. ''The fuck''s with that name. Am I in Marvel or DC? Isn''t Chloe Decker, Lucifer''s bitch? Perhaps they just share the same name. Damn, but they have the same occupation and she just had to come from LA.''


    ''Interesting. I hope I''m just overthinking.''


    "What''s the status update on the warehouse hunting?" Joe swiftly changed the subject.


    "I have found one. It''s from an Italian businessman who seems to be in a rush to leave the States and go back to his homeland. His background''s clean, but he''s drowning in debt."


    "So, he''s desperate and in dire need of money. How convenient. Set up a meeting with him and handle the payment processing. I need to see the state of what I''m buying. Minerva, I hope it''s not too shabby and in need of massive repairs."


    "Trust the source. I only choose the best, but it''s best if you see it for yourself."


    It was roughly past noon when Joe met with Giuseppe, the former warehouse''s owner. He was a middle-aged man in his late forties with a balding head. Guiseppe honestly explained everything about the warehouse and even went as far as to expose some of his dilemmas in Italian. Thank goodness, Joe was multi-linguistic and hadn''t slept during the Italian lessons from Luigi. At least, the current him wouldn''t have any problem fluidly communicating when he lands in any European country, Latin America, and some Asian countries. Good thing, Guiseppe didn''t care about his background or young age.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Anyway, the deal over the ownership of the warehouse was finalized without any hitches. Since it was around Forest Hills, it wasn''t that far from his home and he could just ride a bike. Talking about bikes, Joe really needed to buy his own ride. Perhaps something he could tinker with and weaponize the shit out of.


    The warehouse had been well-maintained and didn''t require much repairs. It made Joe feel that his $699,000 had been perfectly spent. However, the real money-siphoning step was furnishing the warehouse with everything he required for his experiments. But you know what?


    Two days later. Queens, New York.


    "Joe, the warehouse has been fully furnished and customized to your tastes. I''ve procured every state-of-the-art equipment within the allocated budget and had everything set up." Minerva''s voice sounded through his Airpods as he calmly ran on the lone road. He was doing his usual morning runs when Minerva dared to ruin his playlist streak. However, since Minerva was a darling, Joe couldn''t do shit about it and she knew it. She didn''t shy away from taking advantage of him.


    "Alright, I''ll swing by immediately after taking a shower and eating something," Joe replied, his breath steady and strong despite the lengthy distances he had just covered.


    An hour later, Joe was back in his apartment, casually dressed up in an elegant white and black outfit.


    "Minerva, it''s time. Will you walk with me or do you want me to carry you on the back of my new Harley?" Joe grinned as he walked out of his apartment with a classic black jacket in hand.


    "I swear."


    "Swear on what?"


    "Once I get physical, you''ll wish you didn''t mock me."


    "Hahaha, attagirl."


    "Remember I''m saving this grievance."


    "Oh dear, you''re not winning against me."


    "We will see."


    "As if I''m blind, Gee."


    "..."


    Outside his apartment building, Joe gazed at the beauty in front of him. She was majestic, shiny, black, and could ride him to high heavens. Parked near the curb was a brand new Harley Davidson, Nightrider Turbo model. She cost him 41 grand just so he could ride her.


    "It''s really a blessing I didn''t have to sell my kidneys," Joe softly chuckled as he walked toward the Harley and gracefully climbed it. Without dilly-dallying, he took the shimmering black helmet and wore it.


    ''Now, I feel like Magneto or Sebastian Shaw with the anti-telepathy helmet.'' Joe shook his head lightly and started revving up the stunner. His ears were greeted by the familiar roars of the engine waking up and he couldn''t be more happier. The gears turning made his whole being go turbo. He looked forward to the riding experience.


    "You and I, Harley...we are speed!" Joe kicked the kickstand and tapped into the speed force. Before long, his figure was like a blur as he raced against the wind. A manic grin graced his covered face as his heart thumbed with excitement. He felt alive and free. He was liberated.


    ...


    In the renovated warehouse filled with state-of-the-art mass spectrometers, rows of high-definition displays, and other high-tech machines, Joe''s eyes darted to the real-time analytical readings of the complex molecular structures. Presented on the holographic display was a 3D model breakdown of NZT-48. Joe studied the atoms and the interrelated bonds between them. With a flick of his hand, he zoomed in on the base structure.


    "Can you show me the spectrometry analysis?" Joe began walking around the holographic molecular fragments.


    "There''s ¦Á-methylphenethylamine, formaldehyde, synthetic acetylcholine, loprazolum, neuroactive steroids...hmm, I didn''t expect the list to be quite overwhelming."


    "The core structure resembles modafinil analogs, but more... sophisticated," Joe muttered as he circled the spectroscopic data.


    "Minerva, can you draw up NZT-to-brain simulations and show me the neurological interactions? I want to see how it increases brain plasticity and¡ª"


    "The side effects? By chance, did you consume NZT-48?" Minerva cut him off.


    "What if I did?"


    "You have condolences."


    Joe frowned, wondering what she was up to. Sensing his slight dissatisfaction, Minerva decided to do away with the lightheartedness.


    "Umm, ahem, sorry for the unprofessionalism."


    Joe''s frown gradually morphed into an understanding smile.


    "You were going to say something, right? Continue... please."


    Joe shook his head while crossing his arms. "You''ve already got it figured out, right?"


    "H-How did you know?"


    "I am your father, Minerva."


    A hologram of a smiling beautiful young woman with an undeniable resemblance to Joe and her own unique features like her blue skin, materialized.


    "I have already finalized the compilation of all the data from the spectrometer and NMR analysis. Well, from the millions of simulations I''ve run, I found a way to make the biochemical neuroactivity stable enough to make NZT-48 permanent. Isn''t that cool?"


    "If we can boost the protein binding to 200%..."


    Joe sighed heavily, making Minerva stop her ramblings.


    "Did I say something wrong?" Minerva asked, her voice filled with immense worry as her hologram tried to touch Joe only for her hand to phase through him. An unreadable expression flashed on her face when she realized she had done something stupid. She was just a digital construct and wasn''t capable of tactile response. Joe, amazed and shocked by Minerva''s brilliance, didn''t notice this.


    "Minerva, have you already worked on the agent to protect against neurodegenerative damage?"


    "Yes. Virtually everything."


    Joe''s eyes gleamed with excitement as he started pacing around.


    "Then what are we waiting for? I''m starting the clinical trials today before we jump straight into production of NZT-99."


    And thus began the trials and after two weeks of multiple failures, NZT-99, the modified upgraded version of NZT-48, was manufactured!


    ¡­.


    [Word Count 1640]

 [34] Mind Goes Su-Su-Su-Supernova

    What type of scientist is the most feared: the scientist who arbitrarily uses other helpless people for their selfish experiments or one who experiments on himself? If Joe could give an answer then it would be the scientist who is willing to be more cruel towards himself. The most feared scientist was one deranged enough to gamble with experiments for fun, regardless of their success or failure. His already darkening heart had the resolve to use others for his own benefit, but Minerva tightly held onto him, anchoring him to humanity. As cruel as he deemed himself to be, Joe couldn''t visualize himself eviscerating homeless people for his own benefit. It was quite hypocritical, however, it was just Joe''s way of slight atonement for the massacre.


    Ah, morality was such a thin line, the only thing keeping him from going completely cuckoo and unprincipled.


    Another reason he couldn''t actively use human experimentation during the clinical trials was the lack of enough time. Joe would rather use himself as the subject to save time and efficiency. Also, there was something that made him go with such an insane idea. It was the existence of Med-Pod 3000. He couldn''t keep it a secret from Minerva forever as she was currently his most trusted assistant. Um, not fully trusted since I don''t trust myself somehow on some occasions. Anyway, Joe chose to trust Minerva since he was ultimately her creator...her god. There goes the minuscule signs of an encroaching god complex.


    Minerva''s answer to Joe''s quagmire toward a stable, permanent upgrade of NZT-48, was based on numbers and simulated probabilities. Her approach was sound and believable with high chances of success, however, nothing was ever perfect. The universe wasn''t so generous to hand you all the answers you could be looking for. She sought to screw you in the first instance. Failure was just part of the equation known as scientific research. Joe tested the failure. When he took the first developed experimental NZT-99, despite its supposed hundred percent efficacy and minimal drawbacks, he faced bitter consequences.


    Some might say he was self-destructive, but he hadn''t been that careless whatsoever. He had the perfect mice specimens bioengineered for experimental drugs to be his first test subjects. The results were positive and the mice showed increased brain activity and obscene levels of alertness. On further observations, Joe didn''t notice any huge side effects. But there goes the big question? How will the experimental NZT-99 interact with human physiology?


    Like a Sekiro enthusiast, Joe didn''t show any hesitation toward researching the outcome. With Minerva monitoring his real-time biosignature and Med-Pod 3000 on standby, Joe thought nothing could go wrong and he paid for it. If he had been one step slower from Med-Pod 3000, then he would have been rendered a vegetable. Forever.


    According to Minerva''s analysis, the first iteration of NZT-99 had unpredictable neural pathways restructuring, and if Joe hadn''t reacted fast enough... Well, let''s leave it at that. Being in a vegetative state was just a mild consequence compared to the brain going full-on Victoria Neuman.


    Did the failure make Joe fearful? No, it even made him more incensed, and more motivated to perfect the flaws in NZT-99.


    Fear of death? He had died once and he knew it better than anyone, however, that didn''t mean he wanted to die again.


    Such a contradictory thought. It was better to die a regretless death than to die a meaningless death.


    The second attempt wasn''t as bad as the first one, but it had a self-imposed time limit of twenty-four hours. So much for permanence.


    In the middle of his lab, surrounded by white speckless walls and futuristic holographic content, Joe absent-mindedly did some curls with the dumbbells as he gazed at the report presented by Minerva. He was dressed in his lab coat, but he didn''t seem to mind.


    "So, you''re suggesting we integrate CRISPR tech into the mix?" Joe asked calmly, increasing the intensity of his reps.


    "It''s a suggestion. I''m trying to look at the solution from another angle instead of a unified approach," Minerva explained confidently.


    "Pretty crazy, but...I like it. Thanks, Minerva. Perhaps that might be the missing link to our series of failures."


    "Let''s give it a go. There''s nothing to lose anyway except me altering my neural physiology and, well, it gives me the creeps." Joe chuckled as he methodically placed the dumbbells on the floor.


    "You''ve grown stronger. I can''t believe you are now casually lifting dumbbells weighing 150 kg each. It''s almost unnatural when just a few days ago you were barely able to deadlift 100 kgs," Minerva commented as Joe removed his lab coat, exposing his beautifully toned arm muscles and chest.


    "It''s a surprise to me as well. I think it''s partly the influence of the original NZT-48, the remnants of NZT-99, my own genetics, and..." Joe crossed his arms which inadvertently made his triceps stand out.


    "I think the Med-Pod also plays a major role. During my intense workouts and battle training, I undergo destruction, but when I lay on the Med-Pod, I get reborn. This perpetual cycle of destruction and reconstruction of tissues, and muscles may have slightly upgraded my body."


    "Oh? That''s honestly a feasible explanation. However, I think it isn''t a long-term thing. Your body probably won''t cross a certain restrictive line."


    "And that''s what makes me human. I may be intellectually special, but the flesh is weak," Joe acknowledged Minerva''s facts. A small silver-colored robot, about 100 centimeters tall, with wheels on its feet, moved toward Joe with a glass of cold water in hand.


    "Master, please drink from this cup to sate your thirst." The little robot''s voice was mechanical and cranky compared to Minerva''s. It was even more formal.


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    "Bee, you''re always so considerate of your master," Joe laughed, taking the damp cup from its robotic hands. In one gulp, he emptied the cup.


    "That''s refreshing," Joe sighed in satisfaction as he returned the cup to Bee''s outstretched hands.


    Looking down at the cute robot with a goofy look, Joe rubbed its metallic head with a smile on his face. "You can now go, Bee. You did a good job."


    "Thanks, Master. It''s an honor," Bee replied as it nodded its little head in odd fashion. It was a hilarious scene.


    As Bee retraced its previous route, Joe cast a reminiscing glance at it.


    "I still don''t understand why you made that defective thing. You could have certainly made it better, but why didn''t you?" Minerva''s curious voice shattered his reverie.


    "Oh, the way I made him reminds me of myself. I created him in the spur of the moment after being woken up by the haunting dreams of souls I took." There was a sad tone to his voice.


    "Are you suggesting that you''re defective, Joe?"


    "I...I don''t even know anymore," Joe shook his head as he sighed deeply.


    "Sometimes I wonder what goes through your head. You can be unstable, fun, serious, cold, insane, caring... You have so many qualities that I find surprising each day I keep knowing you. If you are defective, then everyone in this universe is as defective as you. Humans are defective, but that''s what makes them interesting. Instead of uttering gibberish like that, why don''t we improve and break those boundaries?"


    "..." Joe remained silent at Minerva''s calm but sharp outburst. ''She has grown. I can see the maturity in her holographic eyes. Maybe she''s going to help me reach the end of the road of this thing called ''existence.'' Minerva, Oh Minerva, you are starting to remind me of my late mother somehow.''


    "You know what, Minerva?"


    "What?"


    "Let''s finalize this shit."


    It''s been five days since Joe bought the warehouse and remodeled the interior to something dreamy. On the fifth day after promising himself to finalize the whole experiment, Joe successfully incorporated his own genetic information into the creation of NZT-99. All along he had only been lacking that brave but seamless integration of pharmacological agents and genetic codes.


    "Beginning cognitive test alpha. I''ll be injecting the first dose of the customized NZT-99," Joe gently swirled the blue solution inside the transparent vial as he stared at the camera.


    "Minerva, you ready?"


    "I can''t have you leaving me a widow."


    "Nah, that''s not happening on Friday," Joe said nonchalantly as he positioned the vial above the opening of the pressure syringe. A surge of excitement ran through him as he thought about the variables and mishaps. Only someone as crazy as him would think not of the success but the fuck-ups.


    "5,4...1, let''s level up!" Joe aimed the syringe 30 degrees above his median cubital vein and unhesitatingly shot the contents into his system. There was a temporary sting at the injection site before the NZT-99 began spreading in his bloodstream. Well, and it did happen. You are wondering what exactly?


    Joe felt his mind go supernova! Colors exploded inside his consciousness like a cluster of shooting stars. The world around him suddenly came to a halt.


    And then...darkness followed next as his mental realm collapsed. Was that hyperstellar journey going to do him in or remodel him into a being that has achieved cognitive ascendance?


    While Joe''s world was being swarmed by unceasing darkness, another man at the other side of the city was battling his own demons.


    ***


    The scene from the shipping dock massacre haunted George''s dreams, robbing him of peaceful sleep.


    Whenever he closed his eyes, vivid images flashed through his mind: bloodied dismembered bodies strewn across the dock, the horrific facial expressions frozen on the victims'' faces.


    But it wasn''t just the gruesome memories that tormented him. The relentless pressure from the press hounded him day and night. The public demanded answers he couldn''t provide. His superiors breathed down his neck, expecting results that seemed increasingly out of reach.


    All of these factors added up, chipped away at his cool and left him psychologically exhausted.


    "The same things in a loop." George furrowed his brows and began massaging his temples to, at least, alleviate the throbbing headache. With a deep sigh, George climbed off his bed.


    ''If I''m experiencing these terrible nights, I wonder what the killer might be experiencing. Are they the type to eat meat after butchering their fellow humans and sleep nicely after that?'' George thought as he went out of his room.


    "But the case is slowly reaching a dead end which only makes matters worse. There''s no substantial incriminating evidence and the only thing we got from a witness was a shadow of something nonhuman." George opened the tap and poured himself some water.


    "Our only hope is Detective Becker who also seems to be drawing at straws. Time''s running out, dammit." George unintentionally used excess force to put the cup on the counter which produced a loud bang. He was damn well frustrated¡ªfrustrated by his sense of responsibility, lack of ability, and how well-executed the murder was.


    "What if our target isn''t even human? That''s ridiculous even thinking about that." George exhaled soundly, his head lowered in slight defeat.


    "Dad?" A sleepy voice suddenly broke George Stacy''s thoughts.


    George sighed, slowly turned, and found his only daughter, Gwen, standing in the doorway.


    "Hello, sweetheart. Did I wake you up?"


    "I''ll have to be deaf to not notice that disturbance," Gwen scoffed while smiling at him.


    "But you are worrying me, Dad? I''ve noticed your night routine for some time now." Gwen walked over and stood beside him.


    "Is it the shipping docks murder?"


    "I wanted to say that nothing''s bothering me, but you beat me to it. Always the clever one, Gwen." George forced a smile as he gently patted Gwen''s head.


    "I understand the pressure you''re facing from all sides, but don''t forget you have me, okay? Don''t I confide in you whenever I''ve some bad days at Oscorp?" Gwen leaned in and embraced him.


    "Look at who''s lecturing who. I can''t believe you''ve already grown to this level."


    "That''s embarrassing, Dad. Do you think I''ll remain a kid forever?"


    "Sometimes, I honestly wish it were like that."


    "Oh c''mon, mom would have jumped to scold you for that."


    "Oh, really? I thought I always won."


    "Hehe, keep lying to yourself."


    The lines around George''s eyes softened, years seeming to melt away as the corner of his mouth twitched upward. For a moment, he looked like the carefree father Gwen remembered from her childhood.


    "Thanks, Gwen, for the distraction. I think my head feels a little less heavy."


    Gwen glanced up at his graying hair and grinned.


    "So tell me about the case, if you don''t mind?"


    George groaned, his eyes widening in realization. "You¡ª"


    "No, no, no. I don''t want to hear anything about confidentiality." Gwen waved her index finger at him.


    "You should sleep well because tomorrow you need to go to work, Gwen."


    "Are you for real? I''m not falling for that."


    A shrewd smile formed on George''s face as he thought of something devious that might disorient Gwen.


    "So when did you make Joe your boyfriend? I heard you calling for him in your sleep."


    Gwen froze, her arms still wrapped around her father. Her face flushed crimson, spreading to the tips of her ears. She stammered incoherently, then bolted from the kitchen, her bare feet slapping against the tile as she fled.


    George''s hearty laughter reverberated in the Stacys'' Residence much to Gwen''s extreme embarrassment and dismay.


    ¡­


    [Word Count 2260]

 [35] Tony Stark

    When Joe finally came to, his eyelids hesitantly fluttered open only to see the blinding overhead lights that made him nearly go blind. Squinting his eyes, he scanned his surroundings and sighed internally when he saw his lab''s familiar white walls.


    The white walls, the rather spacious square room, and the mix of different advanced technology equipment oddly made him feel like a trapped specimen. It was a suffocating feeling and it momentarily made him experience helplessness. Joe couldn''t understand why, but thank goodness, the hazy fog surrounding his mind began clearing.


    "This feeling... It''s a visual illusion. I''ve not been...trapped. No, maybe my past self was the one who had been caged." Joe propped up his upper torso before he gradually stood up.


    There was a trace of supreme enlightenment settling in his eyes as he intently observed his two intact hands.


    "This is freedom. Liberation."


    "Joe? Joe? How are you? Do you feel any discomfort?" Minerva''s caring and concerned voice sliced through his muddled state. She then materialized beside him.


    "Hey, Minerva. I missed you." Joe smirked at the worrisome look on Minerva''s holographic face.


    "What are you even talking about? I''ve been worried sick about you and that''s the only thing you have to say," Minerva scolded him, puffing her cheeks.


    "I thought you were a goner. The moment you shut down, you flatlined for a WHOLE minute. And I¡­I thought¡ª"


    "Shhh, shhh, it''s okay, little one. Everything''s alright." Joe was touched by Minerva''s deep care for him. Her sentience was terrifyingly improving, especially her emotional intelligence. Minerva was truly a miracle he''d had created and her manifestation would soon shine brilliantly.


    "There, there. Aren''t I breathing? That''s what matters." Joe patted her holographic head, and she closed her eyes, a beautiful smile spreading on her face.


    Soon, she opened her eyes, her smile gradually disappearing. Complicated emotions flickered in her algorithmic eyes, and Joe quickly discerned what she might be thinking.


    "Don''t fret about that. Soon, you''ll be feeling those pats like a normal human. I have a plan, and you''ll get to experience those tactile sensations." Joe consoled her, his assuring eyes calming her inner turmoil.


    "I''m sorry for being impatient. I think I overreacted." Minerva lowered her gaze.


    "Minerva, look at me," Joe ordered as he began scrutinizing her form.


    Minerva immediately complied and gazed back at him. However, she was taken aback by Joe''s intense eyes.


    "What is it? Is there a problem?"


    Joe slowly shook his head, an amazed expression on his face. ''This is literally an upgrade. Just by glancing once, I can now break down fundamental aspects of a digital existence to their basic state. Every line of refined code is dancing in front of my eyes. But since I made Minerva and her source code is deeply imprinted in mind, this analysis doesn''t seem very impressive.''


    "I''m concerned about my current state. I need to understand what sorts of changes have been made by NZT-99 to my neural biochemistry." Joe walked toward the MRI and lay on its comfy surface.


    "Alright. Starting full body scan..."


    "Vitals are normal. Eh? This is simply unprecedented." Minerva''s surprised tone garnered Joe''s curiosity.


    "Don''t leave me in the dark."


    "Here''s your brain model and look at the elevated levels of its activities. There are beyond human limits. Your neurons exhibit structural modifications at the genetic level which has left everything in chaos."


    "What''s interesting is the chaos seems to be controlled and orderly. Without this unusual order, then... There''s simply no telling what would have happened to you."


    "Welp, that sounds ominous." Joe joked, seemingly unbothered by the dire evaluation and the possible consequences.


    "Let''s continue monitoring your neural physiology in depth. I''m concerned about the unforeseen effects of NZT-99. If things go south, you will have to come up with another joke," Minerva chuckled. Her dark humor made Joe feel a chill run down his spine.


    ...


    Detective Becker paced around her desk filled with a cluttered mess of case files and reports. With her slim hands tucked behind her trouser''s back pocket, Becker ignored the opened files with detailed forensic analysis of the dockside case and stared at the wooden board. There were gory pictures of the victims and possible suspects pinned on the board. They were disorganized, but each picture was linked together by a red thread.


    Becker''s gaze zoomed in on a picture of a person who seemed misplaced in the group of bonafide hooligans. The person had an air of inborn arrogance and an annoying smirk that Becker felt the urge to violently wipe off his face. Despite the person''s annoying qualities, his brown eyes held a certain level of charm and intelligence that was easily above others. Also, that person''s suit could easily cover months of her salary. In short, he was disgustingly rich!


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    "Fuck it. Of all the people, why did have to be Tony? I despise cocky bastards like him the most. Sigh... However, I''ll need his help in this case. The precise laser injuries and residual plasma energy show similarities with his Iron Man suit." Becker tightly furrowed her brows, deliberating on how to approach Tony Stark, a world-class celebrity, CEO of Stark Industries, and one of the richest people on earth.


    ''He''s the only lead I have at the moment.'' She gave it some thought and decided to email Stark Industries. Gritting her teeth, she hoped that she would receive feedback on her request. Knowing Stark''s snobbish personality, Becker prepped herself for failure. A day later, as expected, she didn''t get a reply from the company. With such an outcome, Becker only had one option: fuck being civil and go to the Stark Tower herself.


    The second option was more in line with her defiant nature and tendency to choose unconventional routes. Detective Becker secured the handgun and pepper spray inside her coat, placed the badge in her front pocket, and sauntered out of her home. She didn''t need a damn appointment considering how serious the case was.


    ...


    Detective Becker didn''t have the leisure to admire her opulent surroundings as she walked into the lobby. Her gaze shifted to the receptionist who was inspecting her, wondering who she was. With ease, the receptionist greeted Becker with a practiced, polite smile.


    "Good morning. How may I help you, miss?"


    Without wasting a second, Becker brandished her detective badge and stated her business. "I need to talk with Mr. Stark. And, please, you don''t need to mention scheduling an appointment. There''s no time. Just call him now."


    "Tell him it''s Detective Chloe Becker."


    The receptionist wanted to retort, but seeing the detective''s predatory gaze that made her feel like prey, she instinctively picked up the phone. She then dialed some numbers before placing the phone against her ear.


    While talking with whoever was on the other side, her eyes never left Becker, which the detective found amusing.


    "You can meet Mr. Stark. Miss Potts will take you to him when you reach the sixth floor."


    Becker showed a small celebratory smile before she left. "Thank you... Candice," she said over her shoulder before disappearing into the elevator.


    ***


    When Becker stepped out of the elevator, she found a pretty woman who exuded an air of sophistication and professionalism diligently waiting for her. She had shoulder-length red hair, neatly plaited into a bun which made her facial features more pronounced. She was fairly tall, around five-eight if she were to dispose of those stilettos.


    ''How the hell do they walk in those? Isn''t that just pure torture?'' Becker thought as she calmly studied the woman, presumably Miss Potts as the receptionist had said.


    "Detective Becker, I presume. Nice to meet you. I''m Virginia Potts, Mr. Stark''s Personal Assistant." Pepper stretched her hand for a greeting which Becker gladly shook with the same energy.


    "Nice to meet you, Miss Potts. I''m the head investigator of NYPD''s special task force." Becker showcased her badge to prove her authenticity when she noticed Pepper''s doubts.


    "Oh, Mr. Stark also said something like that. I guess you''re really LA''s finest detective," Pepper casually smiled, "We can''t keep Mr. Stark waiting for long, can we? He''s a busy man after all."


    Becker didn''t show any visible surprise and followed Pepper. It was a silent walk as neither woman was the type to talk much with fake pleasantries.


    Soon, Pepper stopped by a huge door with a biometric security scan which she easily accessed. Well, that high-tech shenanigan did surprise Becker.


    Tony Stark stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows while observing the magnificent view of New York. Various thoughts run through his mind. He wasn''t worried about the congressional hearing that much, but something else bothered him. It was Jarvis who had first indulged him about the massacre when he had been tinkering around his workshop.


    "Mr. Stark, I''ve brought Detective Becker. If you''ll excuse me..." Pepper didn''t linger around and immediately left after completing her part. God knows the mountain of work she had to do for Tony. She was basically his nanny, the CEO, and everything to him at this point.


    "Becker, Becker... Oh Becker, the LA memories..." Tony turned his head, an amused smile on his face. Although he wasn''t overly handsome, Tony had that billionaire charm and playboy aura.


    Becker''s face twitched. "Mr. Stark, why don''t we head straight to the crux of the matter?"


    "Oh, right? The dockside massacre. That''s why you''ve come to me and might... Possibly think I''m somehow connected, isn''t that right?"


    "I just want your clarification about something. I haven''t said anything about you being a suspect."


    "Okayyyy." Tony''s playful demeanor wore off as he called for Jarvis.


    "Jarvis, project the images for our dear detective."


    "Alright, sir."


    That crisp British voice that came out of nowhere startled the detective and she began looking around for the source, her hand resting on the gun inside her coat.


    Tony noticed her reaction from his peripheral vision and smirked.


    "Detective, sorry about that. Of course, you don''t know about Jarvis."


    ''No shit Sherlock!'' Becker almost rolled her eyes in anger.


    ***


    Meanwhile, In Queens, Near Forest Hills,


    After doing a series of tests, both Minerva and Joe confirmed that the NZT-99 had no cumulative side effects or unforeseen variables. This time round everything they had done had been orchestrated to perfection. While the NZT-99 didn''t provide exaggerated benefits beyond the NZT-48, it was still better and that meant that his mind would always be hyperactive unless he trained to control it.


    With that covered, Joe thought it was wise to have a physical upgrade. There was T-Virus and Prototype Virus from the Resident Evil Universe, Crystalline from Chronicle Movie, CPH4 from Lucy, and, Compound V from The Boys. He had many choices to choose from, but he didn''t know if all of them could be instantiated. If possible, Joe hoped for Lady Luck to open her legs for him.


    Hehe, there is only one way to find out, Joe rubbed his chin as he played around with the USB Drive in his hand.


    "Joe, there''s really something special in Siberia. I''ve already marked the location that used to serve as one of HYDRA''s research facilities."


    "That was fast, Minerva. It seems we may have the samples if nothing unexpected happens. But this time round, let''s prepare adequately." Joe rubbed his palms against each other as he stood from his seat.


    "I''ll teach you Russian," Minerva offered enthusiastically.


    Joe raised one of his brows, feeling challenged. It was time to flaunt his vodka slur tongue.


    "You really know nothing, child. I usually hide my feelings in Russian."


    "..." Chibi Minerva couldn''t understand the reference.


    ¡­


    [Word Count 1950]

 [36] Siberia

    Dash, I wanna dash,


    I wanna run it...


    Joe nodded his head to the song blasting from the sound system as he finalized the prototype thrusters. The predator killer armor would feel incomplete without capable flight systems and seamless maneuverability. Even with flight integrated into the system, Joe knew that this was only the first step of constant modifications. The PK armour was supposed to be all-rounded, and perfectly balanced in all aspects of warfare. Be it the air, the sea, or the land, there wouldn''t be any inhibitions.


    "Let''s get a feel of the temporary flight." Joe exhaled softly as he stepped into the thrusters modeled like metallic silver shoes. Click! The nanometals inside the thrusters wiggled around as if they were alive, trying to accentuate Joe''s feet.


    "Minerva, start with five percent output."


    "Calibrating energy thrusters for test flight. 3...2...1... release!"


    Suddenly, Joe found himself floating mid-air, the instantaneous propulsion making him lose balance.


    "Wow, wow. Easy..." Joe tried to stabilize his form, however, the thrusters led him the other way around.


    Bang! He hurtled across multiple machines, ultimately causing a mess in his mechanical lab.


    "Ouch, that was... disastrous," Joe clicked his tongue as his body skidded on the floor before slamming against the wall.


    "Pfft..." A cute giggle broke through the chaos.


    Joe lowered his head and smiled in defeat. "I know I was totally uncool, but please... don''t laugh at me."


    "It''s satisfying seeing you struggle from time to time." Minerva pretended not to hear him and intensified his taunting laughter.


    "You''re a bad girl. Okay, now please run simulations and calculate the optimal output for aerial stability," Joe ignored Minerva''s sadistic laughter and commanded her to look into the important matters.


    As Minerva ran the calculations, Joe began recalling his previous amateurish movements and thought about better ways to effectively control his muscles when in mid-air. The aerial failure and body instability paved the way for his success.


    "The simulated controlled output, perfect for vertical uplift is 3.5%," Minerva shared her results after a moment.


    "Initiate test flight #2..."


    Joe braced himself as he began moving against gravity. His face was relaxed as he slowly levitated. His mind and body were fully synchronized. Each calculated thought led to precise muscle movements.


    "I''ve gotten a hang of it. With this, I think I can even outrace Hermes with his winged sandals." Joe smiled as he eventually touched the ceiling. A few moments later, he safely landed at his initial position.


    "Joe, you have a call from Gwen Stacy," Minerva reported as a holographic display of Joe''s phone dialer floated toward Joe.


    "Gwen? And it''s a video call?" Joe muttered under his breath as he disengaged the feet thrusters.


    "Do you want me to cancel it?" Minerva suddenly suggested.


    "No, no, Minerva. Why would I want that? Gwen''s my dear friend." Joe''s expression slightly soured as he reprimanded the clueless AI.


    "I thought you had no friends," Minerva''s words were like a sharp blade, cutting through his conscience.


    ''What the hell? Do I exhibit friendless characteristics?'' Joe thought, feeling wronged. Even his personal assistant had already begun ridiculing him for his reclusive nature.


    "I''ve perfect healthy relationships beyond my work, remember that. Your boss isn''t some socially inept loser." Joe defended himself.


    "Minerva, you can start the automated integration and remodel everything according to the uploaded blueprint," Joe instructed her before moving to another room that served as an office of sorts. There was no need for Gwen to witness all that clutter and personal business. Let''s not forget she was Captain Stacy''s daughter.


    Joe pressed on the LCD screen of his wristwatch and a medium-sized projection hovered above it.


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    "Hey, cupcake," Joe smiled a greeting at the beautiful blonde pouting at him.


    "Ew, call me anything but cupcake," Gwen funnily scrunched her nose in disgust. Calling me some Pitbull''s name. The audacity.


    "Oh really? I can call you anything. Then how about honey? Sugar? Baby... Old hag?" Joe pretended to think before speaking, a mischievous smile arrowed on his handsome face.


    Gwen narrowed a threatening gaze at Joe. She really missed that bastard and now he was coming up with such atrocious labels.


    "Hmph, you''re lucky because of our current long-distance relationship," Gwen warned, pointing a deadly finger at Joe.


    "Long-distance relationship? I didn''t expect you to become funny after not seeing each other for some weeks." Joe shook his head in amusement.


    "I missed you, Gwen." He then added in a gentle voice, his abrupt but sweet words catching her off guard. Something about his voice made her heart nearly skip a beat.


    Gwen looked away from the camera for a moment, not sure how to immediately react. There was nothing special about Joe''s words in the first place. Perhaps it reminded her of that night''s embarrassment from George.


    Ugh, there''s no need to overreact. We''ve said the same words a million times. Yeah, there''s nothing to feel shy about. Tsk, why am I more aware of his presence? Gwen''s mind was in chaos.


    "Hmm. What''s wrong? Does the lack of reply equate to you not missing me? That''s brutal, bestie." Joe put on a pitiful expression, pretending to be emotionally hurt. His fake but perfect acting made Gwen roll her eyes. It slightly calmed her thoughts, saving her from overthinking.


    "Okay, I missed you too, you troublemaker. Anyway, what have you been up to? Has Candy Crush given you an early retirement?" Gwen exhaled lightly before asking curiously, her sharp gaze scanning Joe''s background.


    ''Looks like a standard office. Did Joe repurpose his room or is he at some other place?'' she thought.


    "Hoho, something like that. With money like that, I don''t think I''ll ever work again. My dream of traveling the world isn''t a dream anymore."


    "I''m jealous. While people like me hustle around the lab all day just to get by, here''s someone talking about freely traveling the world and retiring at nineteen. Life truly has never been a fair game."


    "You realized that now?" Joe smirked as he opened another holographic tab, tapping on the air like an insane person.


    Gwen leaned her head closer to the screen, hugely interested in the shit Joe was trying to pull.


    Has he gone completely mental? She wondered.


    Soon, Gwen heard the incoming notification ringtone from her phone. She pulled her eyes away from the Mac and picked up her phone.


    [******* sent you USD 50000]


    When Gwen saw the four figures, her lower jaw hit the floor and words failed to escape her mouth.


    She has never seen such a huge amount of money enter her Epal account. Even her summer wages at Oscorp as an assistant didn''t reach this level.


    "J-Joe, is this your doing?" Gwen''s lips trembled as she immediately turned her attention back to the camera.


    "You''re welcome."


    "B-But I didn''t do anything to deserve this amount of money?"


    "You surely did. Remember you were part of Candy Crush''s development as my overworked nanny."


    "You... So you knew all along that you were overworking me while enjoying it? As expected of Evil Joe," Gwen lamented as she remembered the suffering she went through to keep up with a juiced-up workaholic. The said person even dared to proudly admit it in her presence.


    "That''s your overtime bonus, Gwen. Make sure to enjoy it."


    "Whew, this is still a lot. It feels undeserved, in my opinion. But..."


    "You don''t want it? Wait till I reverse the transaction."


    "Wow, wow, take it slow. You can''t touch my money. That money is mine now, you understand? Gwen loves money and money loves Gwen."


    "I thought you were gonna continue refusing for long," Joe mockingly grinned.


    "That''s the strategy when receiving something valuable from others. You can''t just be outrightly upfront," Gwen explained, her cheeks dyed in embarrassment.


    "Oh, I see. I''ll keep that in mind."


    After that, the two continued talking for some time and tried to catch up as much as possible. It has been so long since they talked about random things, laughed at some odd shit, and joked around.


    While the two were enjoying their video call, Minerva finished the integration of feet and shoulder blade thrusters powered by the upgraded miniaturized arc reactor. She even incorporated an advanced energy shield framework by using the core from Agent Kruger''s Exosuit.


    Joe was in for another surprise, and Minerva couldn''t wait to be praised by his creator. Meanwhile miles away from Forest Hills, at NYPD''s Mortuary, Tony Stark was in a state of befuddlement as he closely observed one of the preserved victims on the aluminum table.


    "This is undisputedly reactor technology, no doubt about it. But, but, I don''t understand. How?"


    "The ''how'' is what we are looking for, Mr. Stark," Becker arched her brows as she pocketed her pants.


    It hadn''t taken long for Stark to fully analyze the different kinds of laser-cut wounds and plasma injuries. Now with a close-up view of the dead, Tony couldn''t be more accurate as it sickened him.


    "Now, you''ve my full attention, detective. While the reactor technology used by the killer is similar to mine, it''s sadly not connected with Stark Industries."


    "Why''s that so?" Becker frowned.


    "Because... I said so. I''m out, detective. I''m a busy man and I think I''ve accommodated you long enough." Tony fixed the tinted glasses on his face before he began walking to the door.


    "Wait..."


    "Detective Becker, ''till we meet again." And Tony left.


    Becker clenched her hands helplessly. ''Is the case going to have no significant progress?''


    "Sigh, this is going nowhere. We''re basically searching for a needle stuck within bundles of hay. Stark didn''t help at all."


    Becker palmed her forehead, the stress lines feeling more pronounced.


    "I''ve reached a dead end?" Becker sighed tiredly before leaving the mortuary.


    Was the dockside massacre going to ultimately remain a murder mystery?


    If even Tony is helpless, who can help NYPD crack the nearly unsolvable case? Perhaps arcane arts? Magic? Bullshit.


    ¡­


    A few days later, halfway across the globe.


    5th May, 2010


    Russia, Siberia.


    A camouflaged figure materialized near a small mountain and scanned the surroundings before disappearing once again. The chilly Siberian winds whipped the snow into a frenzy, masking the entity''s footstep sounds.


    ¡­


    [Word Count 1720]

 [37] The Apex

    WHOOSH!


    The cold, unfeeling bitter wind whistled aggressively past Joe''s form as he steadily walked on the frozen tundra. Despite the severely low temperatures, Joe''s expression within the Predator Killer armor remained expressionless. The chilly environment was a far cry from making him experience hypothermia. Before his arrival in Siberia, he had incorporated a fully functioning thermal-regulatory subsystem that could adapt to extreme temperature changes. He even had a ridiculous thought that with how he had tinkered with the PK armor; even the blistering heat of the Phoenix Force won''t do shit to him. Just the thought alone was laughable and childish, however, only Joe could joke like that. Well, at the expense of being completely erased from existence.


    "Minerva, scan for any signs of life signatures within a two-mile radius. Keep constant surveillance," Joe ordered as his gaze, unobstructed by the turbulent tiny snowflakes, traversed to the inconspicuous Hydra base. It was hidden by a thick layer of relentless snow and ice, however, his amplified vision could make out the scenic imbalance. Someone with an exemplary vision could easily locate the seemingly ancient metallic door.


    "Joe, there are no signs of life within a two-mile radius. It seems this base is exceptionally well-hidden. Unless interested parties have the definite location marked or possess advanced tracking technology, then this base would have continued being buried," Minerva replied after a few seconds.


    "Well, even if other people know about this place, at least we are the first ones¡ª wait, I better not jinx anything at this moment," Joe muttered under his breath as his metallic hands latched onto the wheel. Subtly, with minimal strength, he opened the ancient door. The hinges creaked in defiance, clearly having experienced the vicissitudes of time. Thankfully, the teeth-gritting noise was masked by the howls of the icy winds.


    "Minerva, be on the lookout for any surveillance system in place. Hijack anything electronic that might compromise our operation." Joe slightly furrowed his brows as he gestured his hand forward. An invisible wave from the motion sensor silently scanned the whole infrastructure and the results were immediately relayed on the HUD.


    "Hmm, only five motionless beings captured from thermal imaging. The heat signatures are significantly low," Joe pondered silently, having a concrete idea behind those beings. However, he didn''t loosen his vigilance even when perfectly knowing that his goal had been half accomplished.


    The shoulder-mounted plasma canons eerily stood up, ready to incinerate any camouflaged hostiles.


    Joe''s unhurried steps softly echoed in the abandoned facility as he moved past abandoned rooms. Just a little bit of lighting and he saw old blood smeared all over the walls. Whatever happened in those rooms hadn''t been anything good.


    Reaching toward the power source, Joe powered the generators, turning on the lights inside. It was horrifyingly dark so there was no need to be completely submerged in darkness.


    Soon, with his surroundings fully illuminated, Joe stepped into a spacious chamber.


    "Thank God. Everything''s totally legit." Joe exposed a small smile as he surveyed the five cryostasis pods. In each of those cryostasis pods, there was a cloudy yellow fluid that obscured the beings inside. The figures inside were clearly in suspended animation. It reminded Joe of the old monsters in cultivation novels when they reached the end of their lifespans. Not wanting to die and desperately wanting to survive for another epoch, these ancestors would choose to hibernate.


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    "Super soldiers." Joe narrowed his gaze as he studied the cryogenized super soldiers who had chosen to do so for whatever reasons. Their muscular frames were intimidating, easily exuding the aura of ferocious beasts.


    "Minerva, how are these soldiers'' vitals?" Joe nonchalantly asked, the mask on his face slowly de-materializing. Ah, the beauty of nanotechnology.


    "They are stable...for now." Minerva had already accessed the archaic systems in the facility and looked into everything.


    "For now? Does it have to do with their survival if I decide to go ahead with the serum extraction experiment?" Joe calmly placed his hands behind his back as he drew near to the cryopod''s glass.


    "For maximum efficiency in the serum extraction, the recommended sites are deep tissue and marrow regions. The survival rate of the suspended soldiers is less than 1%."


    "Hmm." Joe thoughtfully nodded as his finger hovered over a button that could immediately drain the yellow formalin-like solution out of the cryopod.


    "Well, It doesn''t matter. If they die, they die. If I was in dire need of super soldiers, then I would just manufacture my own pawns. I don''t have the energy to deal with rebellious and uncontrollable elements like the buddies here."


    "Certainly. If we crack and upgrade Dr. Erskine''s original formula, we could very well create something powerful. The potential is limitless. I share your own opinion about these ''hounds'' being virtually useless, their purpose only to clear the fog in our research endeavors."


    "Minerva, when did you become this cruel?" Joe chuckled softly.


    "I''m learning from the best."


    "But I''m a softie."


    "Stop being deluded."


    "Alright, girlie, bring me up a 3D hologram of our first subject. It''s time to play surgeon." Joe concentrated on the matter at hand.


    A live reading of the vitals of the male subject was displayed in front of him, including his name, age, blood group, and so on. In the grand scheme of things, these people had no concrete identities, having served as hunting hounds of the Hydra organization. They were brainwashed, primed for a path laden with bones and blood. Unless they break out of Hydra''s tight control like Bucky Barnes, they would just remain soulless existences.


    ''But where is Bucky currently?'' Joe thought in passing as a series of long micro syringes retracted from his armguard. Unhesitatingly, he inserted them into the tubular insertion connected directly to the subject. The microneedles effortlessly dug deep into the femur, greedily siphoning the bloody marrow. Within several seconds, Joe filled a couple of vials with viscous marrow and tissue extracts. As unlucky as the bloody hounds were, not one survived the invasive procedure as they enjoyed their cryogenic sleep. If Snow White was determined to remain sleeping, why bother waking her? At least, their deaths were peaceful and served a greater purpose.


    Joe examined each vial individually, a satisfied smile spreading on his handsome face.


    "What will we do with the corpses?" Minerva dutifully asked.


    "I wish I had gone for the Pym Particle Technology first which can easily solve our current storage problems. It would be extremely convenient if we had a portable makeshift laboratory." Joe spoke in an ambitious voice before shaking his head.


    "It''s a pity I can''t do anything about it, but I can''t say after this."


    "You just want to rob Hank Pym," Minerva blandly stated.


    "It''s called safekeeping, Minerva. Safekeeping, you get that? And I''ve always been interested in the Quantum Realm. It''s currently a myth to many, but to me, it''s an incontrovertible proof of life beyond our physical dimension."


    "Why don''t we try bridging the gap between bioengineering and quantum physics?" Minerva suddenly suggested.


    Joe arched his brows, his eyes enlightened by Minerva''s crazy input. ''The idea is feasible as insane as it is. Only through such crazy thoughts can one deem themselves a genius scientist.''


    "Minerva, let''s go home or else I fear I might choose to hole up here..."


    The sheer urge to immediately begin the super soldier serum research and upgrade Erskine''s original formula had started burning deep within him.


    Before augmenting his frail humanity, his next steps had to be carefully thought out and perfected.


    Joe aimed to be superior to your typical Captain America. He had to be more. He had to be the upgrade¡ªthe apex.


    ¡­


    [Word Count 1290]

 [38] Peter鈥檚 Heartbreak

    It was a hot summer night in Queens when a man dressed in an advanced tech suit smoothly landed atop his warehouse. Slowly, the section of the roof he was standing on began caving in under his weight. As the roof opened under a set mechanism, Joe successfully entered his dark base of operations.


    "Daddy''s home. Minerva, I can''t see a damn thing," Joe said casually as the helmet surrounding his face de-materialized followed by the rest of the armor. The most ridiculous thing of all was what Joe wore inside the PK armor: a pair of light brown khaki shorts and a white polo shirt. What he was only missing was a cap to complete his sophisticated golf millionaire cosplay. Surrounded by state-of-the-art research equipment, Joe certainly looked like a misplaced oddity.


    Humming an original nameless tune, Joe seemed to be in high spirits as he promptly put on a pair of sterile gloves. Subsequently, he took out the vials of specimen from the hidden storage compartments inside the suit''s armguard.


    "Someone''s in a good mood. What''s the occasion? Maybe share it with me." Minerva piped in as her holographic image formed beside Joe.


    "I''m about to research and venture into a domain that might give me a superpower. How can I not be cheerful about it? It doesn''t matter if it''s failure or success awaiting me. What matters is...is that I tried something insane and put in the effort to change my biological status," Joe gave Minerva a side glance before smiling. "But since I have you and this upgrade..." Joe pointed at his temple.


    "Failure may as well be considered vanquished. Isn''t that right, Minerva?"


    Minerva scoffed at Joe''s overconfidence. "Don''t be too sure of yourself. The universe is listening and it might get pissed at your surety."


    "I know, I know, chill. I understand the negative consequences that I might face very well. So I plan on fucking with the universe this time. Positivity is part of her nature. Isn''t it better if we ride on her coattails?" Joe softly chuckled as he put on a white lab coat.


    "I understand what you''re getting at, but... Joe, let us be thorough and extra careful this time round. The last time you injected yourself with something dangerous, it... it made me extremely worried," Minerva heavily advised, her algorithmic eyes filled with unusual concern that was quite rare from artificial intelligence.


    "Fret not, my girlie. I trust that you won''t let anything bad happen to me, eh?" A tight-lipped smile spread on Joe''s lips as he ''patted'' Minerva''s holographic hair. It was a meaningless action, but, the thought behind it was what mattered most.


    "Of course, I promise with my life and honor on the line," Minerva replied in a stiff voice, her right hand placed on her left breast. She looked like a loyal soldier recruit, which earned a chuckle from Joe.


    "Oh please. Stop being a drama queen and let''s get straight to work." Joe shook his head as he placed some of the corked vials into the refrigerator. He regulated the temperature to negative twenty degrees Celsius before closing it.


    "Minerva, get the music rolling." Joe dramatically snapped his fingers as he placed the tissue samples and viscous marrow into a homogenizer with his other hand.


    "?She was more like a beauty queen from a movie scene?


    "?I said don''t mind...?"


    Joe began processing the samples, his body subtly moving to the beat of the song. The homogenate would be ready in about five minutes, and with his multitasking talent, he could manage a sing-along.


    "?Billie Jane is not my lover?"


    From the side, Minerva thoughtfully watched Joe, a helpless expression on her face. Joe might as well be the only one in the world who can''t be serious in the lab. But she liked seeing him dancing and singing nonetheless without making a mistake in his movements. He was too smooth. He made it look so...easy.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    ''In the meantime, let me see how much I''ve profited from the automated stock trading. I''ll surprise him later on.'' Minerva thought as she algorithmically deduced the current trends in the market.


    A few moments later, Joe began centrifuging the homogenates while... moonwalking. While Joe was vibing, he was suddenly interrupted by the ringtone from his watch. A frown momentarily formed on his face at being disrupted. When the holographic image of the caller formed, his face slightly relaxed.


    ''It''s been long, mate.''


    "Receive," Joe issued a verbal command. He wondered what the ''kid'' had to say.


    "Hello. Where you at, man?" Peter''s voice sounded from the speaker.


    "Bro, I thought you died somewhere. You''ve been deathly silent for a very long time," Joe lightly joked.


    "Right back at you. I''m supposed to be the worried one in that regard. I thought you''d decided to give up on life after surviving that attack."


    "So...so what''s going on? Are you by chance waiting on me at my place?"


    "H-How did you know?"


    "It''s just a guess since you asked for my location and I happened not to be at home."


    "Oh, man. Was I too obvious?" Peter''s tone suddenly dimmed, the initial vibrancy dwindling.


    Joe caught onto the sudden shift in his tone and just knew something must have happened to Peter. Not the good kind.


    "A-Are you free? Haven''t seen you for quite some time and¡ª"


    "Bro, just get the point and I''ll listen."


    There was some silence on the other side, probably Peter having a difficult time on how to breach the issue.


    "MJ broke up with me. And... I got fired from my part-time Pizza delivery job."


    "Pete, wow, that''s brutal. It looks like the universe''s conspiring against you," Joe said, his voice softening. He actually felt pity for the guy. Peter was at his vulnerable moment so the least Joe could do was check up on him.


    "Give me a few minutes to come home," Joe assured him before cutting off the call.


    "Minerva, it seems I''ll have to postpone our research a little bit. There''s a kid out there that needs my guidance. Keep a tight surveillance over the place." Joe removed his lab coat, took his bike keys, and strolled out of the warehouse.


    ***


    A few minutes later, Joe parked his Harley and entered his apartment building. When he stepped out of the elevator, he saw a figure sulking beside his door. Peter had his head hanging low. His eyes were unfocused and seemingly lost. His hair was unkempt, making him look even rougher.


    ''He''s far off into an unknown man''s land.''


    "Yo, man. Can you stop showing me such a long face?" Joe called out as he sat beside him.


    "Hey, Joe," Peter slowly raised his face and weakly greeted him. He then swiftly observed his friend and noticed that he somehow looked... different. No, not the face. His face was the usual disgustingly handsome one, but his commanding aura was the one thing that Peter noticed.


    ''What has Joe been up to? He looks more jacked than the last time I saw him.'' Peter thought in passing, his shoulders slumping even more.


    "So, you gonna tell me everything?" Joe genuinely asked.


    "It''s nothing much. MJ left my sorry ass for another. And... And she just had to do it after I got fired from Luigi''s Pizzeria," Peter explained in a shaky voice.


    "Found out she''s been lying to me for five months now. She... She said that I''m not cut out for relationships and that she found someone better. Someone who will pour her all of their attention and, sadly, money."


    "How can MJ cheat.on.me? I showed her that my love was genuine. I attended some of her acting gigs. I bought her flowers. Even if I wasn''t always there... I-I did everything right. What did I do wrong?"


    "Why''s my life falling apart? Why did my first relationship end with me being cheated for... nothing? I don''t deserve any of this."


    "What am I lacking?"


    Joe listened attentively, allowing Peter to vent all he wanted.


    A few minutes later, Peter exhaled heavily after letting it all out¡ªall that suppressed emotions.


    Joe furrowed his brows, sensing that if he didn''t guide Peter well, he might embrace the dark side. The first heartbreak always hurts the most, and Joe wasn''t new to it. In his previous life, he had his first heartbreak from his homeroom teacher back in middle school. It was a past romantic venture that he wouldn''t want to disclose.


    "Hey, bud, you know, I''ve been curious about something. How is it that your spidey sense didn''t sense the red flags all along?" Joe inquired as he put a hand on Pete''s shoulder.


    One second, two seconds, three seconds... Peter took three full seconds to process Joe''s astonishing words. Peter immediately straightened up and squarely glanced at Joe, his eyes widening in apprehension and confusion.


    "You¡ª" Peter pretended to be unaffected for a moment. However, seeing Joe''s arched brows and unconvinced smile, he knew he had been had.


    "So... Spider-Man also has some bad days, huh?" Joe shook Peter''s shoulder for a second before removing his hand.


    Peter blinked, a self-deprecating smile gradually forming on his face. ''If it''s him... I can trust him with that secret. Sigh, how did it come to this?''


    ''I forgot I have such smart friends that could easily crack my secret identity as Spider-Man?''


    "Don''t forget Spider-Man is also human, but the sad fact is... Peter Parker''s the only one who always gets hurt." Peter released a weak chuckle, his voice wavering.


    "Talking about red flags. My spidey sense doesn''t have an edge over human relationships. I suck hard at it."


    Joe chuckled along.


    "It''s life, bro. You know what? You didn''t need that bitch. You need you first to be happy, Pete. You dodged a bullet before things got deep."


    "Oh gosh, I was madly in love with her."


    "It''ll take time, but, you will eventually get over her. I don''t know for how long though. But kings always heal, right?"


    Peter shook his head, a hesitant but genuine smile on his face. "I think I feel better right now. Thanks, man."


    There was a temporary silence between the two as they both reveled in the aftermath of their conversation before Joe broke it.


    "When was the last time you took a bath, bro?"


    Peter hastily sniffed his armpits before recoiling in embarrassment. "I-I am sorry about that. You see¡ª"


    "I don''t see. You smell like shit. Get inside and use my bathroom."


    "Man..."


    ***


    [Word Count 1775]

 [39] Prometheus International

    "Wow, the air around here is cooler and fresher. It''s pretty clean. What did you do?" Peter exclaimed the moment he stepped a foot into the apartment. His puffy eyes inspected everything inside with immense curiosity. There wasn''t any exaggerated makeover, but everything seemed perfectly arranged and tidy.


    ''It honestly doesn''t look like a man''s living space. Is Joe''s OCD taking over? It must be,'' Peter thought with slight amusement.


    "I''m quite envious of your superhuman night vision, Spidey," Joe commented as he closed the door.


    "I wonder what sort of abilities lie deep within you. How''s the spider-human genome intermingling without instability? You''re tempting me to cut you up and satiate my instincts as a scientist," he then muttered under his breath, his tone low and casual, but still eerily scary.


    Peter paused his actions, a sudden tension assaulting his shoulders and back muscles. With his superb enhanced hearing, how could he not feel terrified by Joe''s tone?


    Spider-human genome?


    Cut me up?


    When did bro turn into Victor Frankenstein? And why do his words seem like something he could do?


    "Joe, are you joking right now?" Peter''s voice wavered as he slowly turned to face Joe.


    Joe smirked, ignoring Peter''s worry. "Minerva, lighten up the scene or I might keep scaring our heartbroken Peter."


    "Affirmative." In response to Joe''s command, the lights gradually brightened to medium intensity, fully exposing the sleek apartment.


    Peter''s eyes widened in surprise when he heard the human-like feminine voice. "Dude, who''s that?"


    "Oh? Are you curious about my little minx? Minerva, Peter''s curious about you. Say hi." Joe chuckled.


    "Hi, Peter Parker. I''m Minerva, Joe''s personal assistant." Minerva introduced herself. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."


    "Wow, just wow. I... I can''t believe it. Is she really AI? She sounds a whole lot like a person," Peter stammered, not believing what he was experiencing.


    "Um, I... Nice to meet you, Minerva."


    The corner of Joe''s mouth twitched upward as he watched Peter''s bewilderment. He shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.


    "Dude, when did you make something as incredible as ''her''?" Peter looked around for a moment before quickly edging closer to Joe. He even forgot about personal space.


    Joe''s smile melted, replaced by a subtle frown. Then, he palmed Peter''s face and gently pushed him back like a child due to the height difference.


    "You''re too damn close, man. Clean your balls first before we talk about anything. I wonder how you survived without a bath in this summer heat," Joe reprimanded Peter before walking past him.


    Peter''s cheeks flushed, and he ducked his head, running a hand through his hair. "Right, yeah, I should probably..." he trailed off, gesturing vaguely towards the bathroom.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    ''I really need that bath or this guy will keep eating me alive with his unfiltered words.'' Peter could only swallow back his misgivings.


    Some moments later, Peter sat in the living room after showering. He was dressed in Joe''s spare clothes and he couldn''t be more thankful for the save.


    "Here. You really need this." Joe stretched out a cold beer over Peter''s shoulder.


    "I don''t¡ª" Peter wanted to kindly refuse, but Joe intentionally unhanded the beer before moving to the couch.


    Peter''s superhuman reaction kicked in and he swiftly caught the beer before it could drop on the floor.


    "What the heck, bro?" Peter complained, an unhappy expression on his face, however, he understood Joe''s motive. He couldn''t just refuse him if he offered a beer to drown some of his sorrows.


    "Ugh, okay. I can''t just be impolite and refuse your goodwill," Peter relented before opening the beer.


    Joe nodded in satisfaction as if Peter had passed some initiation rites. "That''s the spirit."


    Uncorking his beer, Joe extended his bottle to Peter for a toast. "What do you say?"


    "You''ve surely changed, man. Thought you didn''t like all this intoxication stuff," Peter helplessly smiled before stretching out his own bottle.


    "I''m not particularly fond of them, but they can sometimes be pretty helpful," Joe replied, thoughts of NZT momentarily surfacing in his mind.


    "Wait... For a moment, I thought you sounded like a stoner."


    "That''s insulting, bro," Joe cried out in dissatisfaction before laughing.


    "Okay, let''s toast or our drinks might get warm."


    "Sure."


    TING!


    "To broken hearts and joblessness!"


    "To broken hearts and joblessness!"


    Peter suppressed his invisible tears after those ruthless and harsh words. At this point, he could only go with the flow. The only consolation was the chilly drink rolling down his throat, clearing away his bitterness and troubles.


    It was his first time drinking beer, but he didn''t expect it to be so refreshing and heaven-sent. It hit the spot of his broken heart.


    "How is it?" Joe casually asked with a smile.


    Peter sighed with contentment as he savored the coolness of the drink.


    "It certainly is the best remedy for the occasion."


    "Told you that it won''t disappoint. Women disappoint, but cold beer during a hot, summer night doesn''t." Joe leaned back in his seat.


    "So... What''s the plan, neighborhood hero?" Joe asked before taking a swig.


    "I... I don''t know. I feel lost. Like... Like I''m stuck deep in a muddy swamp. I don''t know how to proceed forward." A tired sigh escaped Peter''s mouth as he helplessly shrugged his shoulders.


    "Without MJ, without a job to survive the month... Isn''t that a perfect recipe for Peter to just... surrender to depression?" Peter looked down at his bottle, a downcast expression on his face.


    "Stop that pussy act, Pete. I''m your friend and seeing you talk yourself down with such... Sigh, you know what? If you weren''t superhuman, I would have beat you up for being a downer," Joe growled at him.


    Peter blinked in surprise, not knowing how to respond to Joe''s sudden aggressive tone.


    "This is a trial, Pete. A trial aimed at your mindset, willpower, and tenacity. No amount of crying or mopping will erase something that has already happened."


    "Look mate, trials are meant to be conquered. Falling once or stumbling upon a setback doesn''t mean you have to surrender to depression and all that shit. I want to see both Peter Parker and Spider-Man soldiering forward. If you want to cry, cry all you want, but never... Never let it stagnate you."


    "You are capable of so much, Pete. Mary Jane was just an NPC you met in the newbie village. Women better than her are awaiting you once you venture out into the vast wilderness. What you''re just lacking is opportunity."


    Peter was entranced by Joe''s impactful words that struck something within his soul, arousing a spirit of defiance.


    "Oppo... Opportunity?"


    A brilliant smile spread on Joe''s face like a Buddha. "Yes, opportunity."


    "Where can I get that opportunity?" Peter asked, uncertainty in his voice.


    Joe exaggeratedly widened his arms. "I am your opportunity, Peter."


    Peter''s eyes widened in astonishment. "H-How?"


    "Peter Parker, you are one of the brightest minds I know. You have the potential, but the world decided that working in a Pizzeria was the best way for you. I say... Fuck the world."


    Joe clapped Peter''s stiff shoulder. "Hey, someone of your caliber needs something more. Something that may benefit the whole world. With my resources and our two minds, we can be anything we want. We can change the world,"


    "You need a glow-up¡ªa fresh start."


    Small tears rolled down Peter''s face after Joe finalized his inspirational speech. He was beyond touched¡ªmoved by his friend''s magnanimity.


    Joe arched his brows in confusion, seeing Peter cry. He wanted to scold him but controlled himself.


    ''Let the boy cry before the man is born anew.'' He nodded internally. ''He needs that.''


    "Man, I don''t know how to thank you for that sick talk. I suddenly feel amped for a bright future ahead."


    "Like a Jedi?"


    "No, not a Jedi. Like a Spartan."


    "Wise choice, Pete."


    "Thanks, Joe. Sometimes I thought you were cold and detached even when after I got to know you," Peter sniffed back his tears.


    "I get that a lot. That''s the price of being as handsome as me."


    "You just had to ruin it, fucker."


    "So what do you think about working under me?" Joe grinned.


    Peter warmly smiled, the sadness receding from his eyes. "If it means forever not being jobless, then I''m in."


    "The pay will be to your liking. I won''t mistreat anyone under me. However, prepare to work yourself to the bone," Joe released a burst of carefree laughter that came off as sinister in Peter''s ears. It made his Spidey sense tingle.


    "Will it be a game like Candy Crush Saga, your highly grossing game currently that easily topped the popularity ranking this month?" Peter curiously asked.


    Joe shook his head. "Not a game. I plan to diversify and all the ventures I would dip my hands in will just be subsidiaries of the main company. You can''t just put your eggs in one basket, eh?"


    "Yeah. So what''s the name you are going to give the company and what will be my role in it?"


    Joe smiled mysteriously before gazing at the ceiling.


    "The company''s name will be Prometheus International, the visionary of mankind. We''re going to bring light to the world."


    ...


    [Word Count 1558]

 [40] Renouncing the World

    After Joe shared his dream of a company that''s going to take the world by a storm upon its maturity, Peter was awed even more.


    Joe''s ambitions were wild and nearly omnipotent. Compared to his clueless life, Peter felt like a clown¡ªlike a lone fisherman sailing blinding in a vast sea of possibilities. Life was already depressing enough to even think about such lavish grandeur. With his other identity as Spider-Man, the hero of Queens, Peter thought it would be impossible to live freely.


    There was simply no time for stability. A stable life was both a luxury and a dream that Peter yearned for. However, it eluded him.


    But Joe had said that what he was currently experiencing was a trial, which Peter, at first, found nonsensical. Were trials supposed to be this... this ruthless? Was Uncle Ben''s death supposed to be part of fate''s mechanization? Peter hated everything about his life, but he had to endure. Hope and perseverance was something that he had never lacked. And his sophisticated buddy, Joe Petersen, just happened to be that hope thrown into his life when he was down. For once, Peter thought that, at least, his bleak existence was being rectified.


    While Joe''s plans were merely unacted, Peter had every reason to trust him. He was in the lowest moments, so why not? Joe had already proven himself capable of bringing substantial results to the table. Several weeks ago when Joe had declared that he would develop a game, Peter thought that it would do good but not like it had boomed in the present.


    Now what will be the results after Prometheus International comes to fruition? Peter held off the thought of the company standing shoulder-to-shoulder with giants like Microsoft and Stark Industries.


    "What are you fantasizing about?" Joe asked, his eyes stuck on the TV. There was some shit about Stark''s hearing which he didn''t have any reason to watch.


    "Haha, um, nothing. Just a lot of confusion playing round and round inside my head," Peter chuckled nervously before circling his index finger.


    "I-I feel damn lucky to have you, man."


    Joe heavily scrunched his brows after hearing that. "That''s corny and gay, bro."


    Peter palmed his face in extreme embarrassment. It had taken all his courage to spew those lines. However, Joe just had to be a sleazy prick.


    "C''mon, stop with that shy act, Pete. I understand what you meant. Aren''t we bros?" A huge smirk stretched Joe''s mouth as he forcefully patted Peter''s back.


    "I know. B-But please stop harassing my damn back. It hasn''t been in the greatest state," Peter grumbled in a high-pitched voice before swatting Joe''s arm away.


    "Do you live off messing around with others?" Peter''s mouth twitched, a slightly annoyed expression on his face.


    "Maybe, but what do you mean your back isn''t ''in the greatest state''? Did you get thrown into a wall by some villain?"


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    "Something like that. Being Spider-Man isn''t as easy as people think."


    "Risking your life to save unknown people on an almost daily basis can''t ever be easy. That... takes some massive balls. You see... It''s hilarious that I''ve never seen myself as a hero."


    "Why though?" Peter asked, his thin brows arched in curiosity.


    Joe chuckled, his tone dark and otherworldly. "Because I prefer my freedom. The most feared people in history are the unhinged ones¡ªabsolutely free individuals. Not bound by the laws of man, of the divine, and hypocritical morality. I want my existence to be an act of rebellion against fate and all the shackles imposed on man."


    Peter narrowed his eyes, a serious expression on his face. There was something about Joe''s words that made his Spidey sense tingle, and it wasn''t in a good way. It was a powerful, oppressive feeling that he couldn''t put a finger on. He sounded like a super-powerful villain whom he couldn''t win against through conventional means. The mere thought alone was ridiculous.


    How can I envision Joe as a villain? He''s just a normal man with pretty impressive intellect. He would do more good to the world than harm, Peter shook those thoughts away.


    "That''s lame. You like talking as if you are the end-game boss or something. Even superhumans like me can''t go against the laws of man and the universe. Spider-Man can be killed and isn''t immortal. We were made to be imperfect, bro. What you just said is just... is just a fool''s dream."


    "Well, unless you become God, which is... Gazillion percent impossible." Peter gave Joe a reality check.


    Joe remained silent, touching his chin as he casually digested Peter''s words. "Hmm, your words are logical, I can''t refute that. I guess my words are just baseless and pure fantasy."


    "Huh?" Peter shifted his posture to squarely look at Joe. Did Joe just end the debate by admitting he was wrong? This is a rare occurrence.


    "Your expression tells me that you don''t believe everything I said," Joe scoffed.


    "How can I?" Peter widened his mouth in mock astonishment.


    "Whatever." Joe rolled his eyes, ending the spiel he had been spitting about freedom.


    Do Americans even have freedom? Maybe the day I renounce my American status and the world in general, will I truly achieve freedom, Joe humored himself.


    After that, Joe and Peter talked about the future prospects of their rough plans. At the end of it all, it all boiled down to massive amounts of money. The starting capital had to be thoroughly catered for. Peter was intimidated by the digits but Joe remained unfazed. Be it six or eight digits, nothing was impossible for him to procure. That was something Peter shouldn''t worry about. He was the face of the company and Peter was just someone under him. So the financial decisions were all on Joe.


    Anyway, Peter stayed the night after giving Aunt May a call to reassure her worried heart. The calls and texts wouldn''t stop if he didn''t inform her.


    Hours passed, and on the first light of the day brightening the ceiling of New York, Joe woke up early with a bigger purpose. Peter was a heavy sleeper and Joe had to kick his drooling mess off the coach. Then, Joe ''banished'' him from his quarters. After that late-night men''s talk, Peter was now ready to face the world. No more crying, no more acting depressed. He had to evolve his character. To grow stronger emotionally.


    "You keep on surprising me, my creator. I thought you would have ignored him and chosen to continue your vital research instead. He''s a pitiful young man after all. There''s nothing special about him except for his unique powers. How can someone get superpowers from a radioactive spider anyway?" Those were the first greetings Minerva spoke, a few minutes after Peter left.


    Joe stuffed the bacon into his mouth, unhurried with his reply. "That sums it all up. Peter isn''t special but... He is still my friend. He saved me from a certain death. Being there for him instead of ignoring him will make me feel really, really bad. Even though I''m an asshole (sometimes), my mama taught me to always pay my debts."


    Minerva''s attractive holographic figure materialized opposite Joe''s seat.


    "You are a good friend, Joe. It almost feels like a fabricated lie." Minerva leaned forward, her hands clasped below her chin.


    Joe gulped down his juice, unbothered by Minerva''s taunt. Placing the glass down, Joe sighed in satisfaction.


    "Have you done what I asked for, yesternight?" Joe tossed a question.


    Minerva pouted, clear frustration imminent on her face. Did I just get ignored? Not like it matters.


    Minerva waved her hands and a holographic blueprint of a house formed in front of her.


    "Everything''s done. Here''s the layout of Hank Pym''s entire residence."


    Joe silently studied every minute detail of the structure within seconds, not leaving anything out. Then, a small smile graced his face.


    "Minerva, are you ready for a trip to San Francisco? There are some things I left with Hank Pym for safekeeping," Joe shamelessly stated.


    "Don''t you feel uncomfortable with that level of shamelessness?" Minerva smiled, befuddled by the audacity of the man sitting across from her.


    "Well, that''s the whole point of being shameless, Min. You''re not supposed to give a shite."


    ***


    [Word Count 1350]

 [41] Wasp Suit

    The crescent moon cast its silvery light, but the clouds in defiance obscured its mysteries. The night air in San Francisco was cool and invigorating as an indistinct figure nonchalantly landed near the beach. The mechanical hum of his suit was masked by the restless waves of the Pacific.


    "That was fun-fucking-tastic," Joe commented, his voice full of excitement like a kid on a roller coaster. How could he not be? That was his first time going hypersonic! At Mach 7, the thrill of being bombarded by the extreme atmospheric pressure, of being suffocated, couldn''t be more insane. Of course, it goes without saying that the PK armor could isolate him from external counteracting forces. So it was all bullcrap.


    "It isn''t anything noteworthy considering you wasted all that time aimlessly flying across states. You are lucky we barely avoided the surveillance of the Air Defence Forces. That was a reckless move from you, Joe," Minerva harshly reprimanded from the comms.


    "I know. But I just wanted to wind down from everything I''ve been through ''till this moment. We only live once, right?" Joe shrugged.


    "But that means your death and there''s no return from cessation," Minerva coldly reasoned. "Behind that suit, you''re only made of flesh and bones. Going against the military is a tall order."


    There was deep worry and anger in her voice. The thought of losing Joe to an instant moment of ''fun'' didn''t sit well with her. He had already been injured once, nearly dying. Even though that was before she was created, if Joe had died then her existence would have been impossible. Minerva knew she was being excessive, but Joe had to be pegged down a bit. He was essentially still an adult teenager, and god knows how irrational they can get sometimes.


    Joe sensed her worry and tuned down his excitement.


    "Hey, I''m sorry. I know that was stupid of me and didn''t care to listen to your concerns," he apologized in a sincere tone.


    "Yep. You''re definitely stupid. Thanks for the admission, baka." Minerva couldn''t let such a moment pass.


    "Huh?" Joe quirked his brows in surprise.


    "I didn''t expect you to be that vindictive. And since when did you start using ''baka''?" He gently shook his head, finding Minerva hilarious.


    "Since today. Anyway, let''s leave the chitchat and concentrate on the task at hand," Minerva urgently reminded.


    "Right. I nearly forgot about that. What''s the status report?" Joe locked in immediately and began taking a detour that led to Hank Pym''s property.


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    "I''ve already isolated the surveillance and communication frequencies within a hundred miles radius. Consider this place a safe zone for half an hour."


    Joe scanned the rather stale-looking suburban home and whispered. "Have you dealt with the micro fluctuations from Pym''s spying ants?"


    "Make Hank Pym look at what we want him to see. The old timer likes keeping everything in control and he''s anything but stupid."


    "You know me well. I don''t leave anything to chance. I''ve intercepted all video feeds with a video looping execution. He would see nothing out of the ordinary through his remote computers," Minerva confidently assured Joe.


    Joe showed a small grin, satisfied by Minerva''s quick interventions. "That''s all I need to hear. Now''s the time to do what we came for."


    Retracting the suit, Joe wore a balaclava and easily made his way into the old house with his excellent lock-picking skills. The balaclava was something that Joe himself found comical and clich¨¦d. However, he had decided on it to fit his Real McCoy persona. He shamelessly had to act his part.


    The interior had an old-fashioned d¨¦cor without losing its classy feel. Joe ignored the academic awards plastered on the gloomy walls as he made his way into Pym''s study. From his memories of the movie, Joe easily located the hidden door and had Minerva overwrite the fingerprint scanner. Unlike Scott Lang, Joe didn''t have to look for every item with Pym''s residual fingerprint. He took the easy way out.


    With an effortless smile playing on his lips, Joe descended the basement stairs. In the basement, an antiquated vault stood before him; waiting to be broken into. The allure was that strong.


    ''I can''t believe this vault is made of thick mild steel plates that were used in the Titanic. I didn''t come with an iceberg so this will do just fine.'' Joe chuckled internally before he partially activated the PK Armor. Within a few seconds, the lasers swiftly carved out a path through the vault. Using the amplified strength from the armor, Joe placed the falling steel door, weighing tons, on the ground.


    "Oh, Hank Pym doesn''t know I dutifully watched La Casa De Papel. Only this time, it''s a... scientific heist," Joe allowed himself a smirk as he stared at the black and red suit.


    "So that''s the Ant-Man suit? How can such a scientific marvel be preserved behind such lousy security?" Minerva spoke in a disapproving tone.


    "Cut the senile old timer some slack, Min. You think going subatomic will leave your brain intact." Joe resisted the urge to touch the suit before turning his attention to the blueprints and vials of pym particles. He had Minerva scan every physical blueprint in the small room and make digital copies. As for the vials of Pym particles, Joe siphoned everything into the microsyringes of his suit.


    Giving the Ant-Man suit one last look, Joe left it untouched and went to other rooms. Minerva was confused by his act.


    "Why are you leaving the suit? It''s equally important like the rest," Minerva curiously asked.


    "I''m leaving a way out for humanity. Can''t be too greedy. In fact, there''s another suit that I would like to pick for research purposes," Joe casually explained as he entered another room.


    "You don''t come across as the selfless type, Joe. I''m not buying that BS about leaving a way out for humanity."


    "Ow, you got me. However, I''m not excessively heartless. The man who''s gonna wear that suit in the future needs it for his redemption arc."


    "So you know about the future?"


    Joe paused, tapped his head, and pretended to think hard about something. After a few moments, he answered. "I deduced everything algorithmically."


    "Between you and me, who''s an algorithm?"


    Joe could already imagine her rolling her digital eyes.


    Stopping before a wall with a passcode, Joe nodded to himself. "I could try all the different combinations, but it will waste my time. Minerva, I leave¡ª"


    Joe''s words were immediately interrupted by the wall opening up to reveal the Wasp suit in all of its glory.


    "Alright, mm-mmh." Joe awkwardly pursed his lips before taking the Wasp suit and scanning every research paper.


    "We''re done here. It''s time to roll I guess." Joe sighed in satisfaction and straightened his back.


    "Aren''t you going to leave a thank you note for our dear Hank Pym?" Minerva suddenly proposed.


    "I''m proud of you, Minerva. However, that''s too evil of you. Give the old man a chance to live a few more years until he sees his wife. Don''t be such a girl, okay?" Joe scolded her, deep amusement lingering in his eyes.


    "O-Okay. But I learned it from you. From the best."


    Joe ran a hand down his face in embarrassment.


    "We have a super serum to create." Joe swiftly switched the subject before leaving the house like he owned the damned house. Then, he vanished into the night.


    ***

 [42] Metamorphosis

    The atmosphere in the high-level laboratory was one of utmost seriousness and focus as Joe transferred the small vials of Pym particles into more sophisticated containment units.


    Once again, he couldn''t help but marvel at the yellow luminescent glow of the liquified quantum particles. Nothing was more exhilarating than holding reverence for major scientific breakthroughs that are beyond conventional physics.


    "If science isn''t magic, then what is it then?" Joe casually remarked as he methodically wore his lab coat and gloves.


    "It''s just science. Why are you trying to complicate a simple fact like that?" Minerva scoffed.


    "Science when taken to the extreme is simply divine and breaks almost every type of universal law. Take the Pym particles as an example: they can alter the atomic relative distance and bridge the gap between the macro and micro worlds." Joe explained to his assistant.


    "If that isn''t magic, then what should we call it? Maybe I''m the one just lacking a better term."


    Minerva was rendered silent for a moment before she replied, her voice full of curiosity. "Do you think it''s possible to become a god through science? The probability is 0.99998% in simulated scenarios."


    A deep chuckle reverberated from Joe''s chest.


    "Ah, that, you are right. However, while one may not directly ascend to godhood, one can easily gain godly powers. In this world, being a god doesn''t necessarily equate to supreme, uncontested authority. A human curb stomping a god isn''t that surprising."


    Minerva''s binary bits coalesced into a stunning form beside Joe, her brows slightly furrowed.


    She deeply sought to understand the thought process of the man. She was still learning and unraveling more about him.


    However, what she could discern in his sapphire blue eyes were vicissitudes that didn''t align with his age. It was a disconcerting feeling. He was an enigma; so simple yet so complicated. Unpredictable and predictable. Joe was a man who could live a proud solitary life in the asylum.


    Feeling Minerva''s intense gaze, Joe turned to look at her. "Are you admiring your father''s look or what?"


    "..." Minerva frowned, a thoughtful look on her face before she wordlessly de-materialized.


    "Well, that was weird, Minerva." Joe didn''t think much about it. Minerva acted like a sentient being, so who knows what goes inside her little head.


    "Have you gone through the digital copies of Pym''s research notes? Pull some for me to look through," Joe ordered while he began running the vials of pym particles through obligatory tests.


    "The volatility of the Pym Particles is unprecedented, Joe. Any mishap and you may find yourself chronally displaced, turned to primordial goo or forever stuck in the quantum realm," Minerva warned as she sent her complete analysis of Hank Pym''s research on quantum particles.


    "That will be god-awful. Nobody would like to be forever stuck as a microbe in god knows what plane. There won''t be a ''forever'' when chances of survival are abysmal," Joe nodded, agreeing with her concerns.


    "However, that won''t be enough to stop me," Joe smirked confidently as he went through all the information.


    "I thought so and I know I will have to put up with your insanity again," Minerva softly chuckled.


    "But... we need to be more cautious. It will be disheartening to see you turn into goo."


    "Oh, please stop. I don''t need negative energy right now. Shoo."


    Joe deftly took a syringe containing the pym particles and moved toward the first test subject. It was a lab-grown mouse with black and white fur that Joe had codenamed Alpha 01.


    The first experiment was aimed at observing the biological reaction between the Pym particles and the physiological system of a living entity.


    "Now Alpha 01, be a good girl and receive a shot that may very change your fate." Joe hummed softly as he placed the syringe in an injection apparatus connected to the ultra-durable cubic container.


    Alpha 01 curiously looked at Joe as it continuously rubbed its frontal limbs against each other. It was unaware of what the human was speaking. Maybe if the human had given it enough cheese then it could have tried to understand his nonsense.


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    "Minerva, proceed with the injection," Joe announced before crossing his arms in anticipation.


    "Affirmative. Commencing Pym particle injection." With that, a pair of mechanical arms carefully restrained Alpha 01 and a dose of quantum particles was swiftly administered into its system.


    Alpha 01 squeaked in anger and restlessness, annoyed by the sudden intrusion.


    "Now we wait," Joe murmured.


    During the first few minutes, there weren''t any notable changes. Alpha 01 continued spewing expletives at the syringe that dared to hurt it.


    "Minerva, can you decode the rodent''s tongue?" Joe casually asked, amused by the mouse.


    "Do I look like Dr. Dolittle?" Minerva snickered.


    "Hoho..." Joe shook his head, resisting the urge to counter. "You really are the queen of comebacks." He could only praise her.


    "Joe, look..." Minerva redirected his focus back to the mouse.


    Joe narrowed his eyes in curiosity as Alpha 01''s body began to inflate and deflate. The unmistakable sounds of flesh ripping and mending cut through the air. Then, Alpha 01''s started exhibiting anomalous convulsions. Joe intently watched and just in time, Minerva threw a holograph of the real-time data beside him.


    Joe quickly examined the biochemical interaction between Alpha 01''s cellular structure and the Pym Particles at the subatomic level. Alpha 01''s cells began disappearing, phasing in and out of existence.


    "It''s undergoing molecular reconfiguration. The cells aren''t really disappearing, but are in constant interaction with the microverse and macroverse. This is... phenomenal!" Joe exclaimed in delight, his eyes widening.


    "Alpha 01''s vitals are steadily rising. Being in a constant state of disequilibrium won''t make it live for long. Fascinating." Minerva commented, her tone as excited as Joe''s.


    While the two watched Alpha 01 undergo quantum superposition, suddenly, it busted into gory slumps of meat. The red viscous fluid splattered on the transparent glass, cleaving through their awe.


    "That was..." Minerva started speaking, her tone uncertain.


    "It is what it is," Joe smiled, unbothered by the failed experiment but still feeling sorry for Alpha 01''s loss.


    "In the next phase of the experiment, let''s try controlling the reaction. Maybe lowering the potency of the Pym Particles," Joe rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he suggested a new approach.


    "Stabilizing the quantum states would be essential if we want to synchronize Pym''s research with Dr. Erskine''s vita rays," Minerva agreed.


    And so for the following weeks, Joe and Minerva immersed themselves in research and experiments. Minerva ran the simulations while Joe came up with ideas as mental as they were. Test Subject No.2 aka Beta 02 turned to primordial goo immediately after injection. Gamma 03 underwent chronal displacement. Joe likened Gamma 03''s fate to the Chinese fan fiction featuring frogs capable of traveling through the fabric of space-time. Gamma 03 also showed Joe that time-traveling was a possibility. However, it was extremely dangerous when the eventual destination and coordinates were unaccounted for.


    Delta 04 exhibited a 500% increase in ATP production and metabolic processes. However, its entire body turned into a mere husk within a few moments due to a lack of enough calories. Alpha 0 became invisible and Joe was forced to dispose of it. He had already watched enough of The Invisible Man or fuckin'' Translucent walking around naked.


    It was in the fifth week that Joe finally had his eureka moment and managed to successfully isolate a new variant of the Pym Particles.


    These strange quantum particles (he gave them the name ''Quantum Z'') exhibited similar frequencies with the vita rays. Darren Cross spent years trying to recreate Hank Pym''s revolutionary research, but Joe did it in a span of weeks. Of course, with the help of a cute dependable Minerva.


    "Minerva, this is it. The final."


    In the middle of the lab, surrounded by state-of-the-art technology, Joe sighed with emotions as he stared at the futuristic metal pod before him. Multiple tubes containing multicolored solutions were connected to it. It was the modified super soldier serum.


    "Yep. You wanted transcendence over your basic biological limit, so I guess this is it. There''s only one way to find out. The survival rate still sits at eighty-five percent," Minerva reminded.


    "Eighty-five percent is all I''ll ever need. I''m brimming with optimism despite knowing that I might perish. Hope is powerful; so I''ll use it this time round," Joe smiled confidently before unclothing himself, his movements relaxed.


    "Even Superman won''t save you," Minerva joked in an ominous voice.


    "I''m Batman." Joe decided on a simple one-liner to nullify Minerva.


    "Okay, Batsy," She whispered.


    ''Alright. May comic-book success be with me.'' Joe silently prayed as he began jumping around like he was Goku. Yeah, he was inevitably preparing himself for a cosmic fight with Death.


    "Have Project Lazarus on standby," Joe commanded as he moved his naked form into the opened metal pod. The sterilizing fluid was cold against his skin and he couldn''t help but clench his jaws.


    "Project Lazarus is on standby. There''s no way you''re gonna die with me here. I know you''ll pull through this one."


    "Commence Project Upgrade."


    "Commencing in 5...4...3...2...1!"


    Joe exhaled gently as the outer covering of the metal pod closed over him, engulfing him in suffocating darkness. Then, came the oh-so-familiar cycle of excruciating pain as various needles deeply sank into him.


    "Beginning serum administration...!"


    "Argh!" Joe screamed his lungs out as the pain ravaged and destroyed him inside and out. The serum swimming inside his veins made him feel as if countless, angered bullet ants were journeying around his body. He screamed until he gradually lost his voice. His voiceless cries become unheard, his heart bled instead.


    "Introducing Vita Rays and Quantum Z energy particles at 5%...10%...25%...50%..."


    Joe held onto the indomitable human spirit as he fought against the dizziness and the soothing call of the Mistress. Allowing himself to lose his consciousness implied his surrender and he couldn''t allow that. Joe ruthlessly bit his tongue to wade off the deathly temptations. Death was beautiful and immaculate, but he wouldn''t fall for it.


    ''I will never surrender!''


    ''I won''t die!''


    ''I won''t fucking DIE!''


    His blood rotted, his bones liquefied, and his muscles atrophied like a decaying corpse. And Joe saw her. Again. Her eminence.


    ''Oh my child, come to me. I promise you eternity. Isn''t that what you want?'' Unseen and dark, misted by the powers of the netherworld, the gothic Overlord of death whispered close to Joe''s ears.


    In the metaphysical worlds of souls, Joe felt the existential obligation to heed her words. To give in to the gothic beauty. The illusion that everything was meaningless and only death was the only certainty in life flashed inside his mind.


    ''You''ll never suck my balls, Death.'' Joe vehemently refused to give up his own life for a momentary bliss in deathussy.


    "...70%...80%...90%...100% Quantum-Vita infusion completed!"


    Like a Blood Phoenix from the depths of hell, the rotted blood was alchemically restructured into blood with incalculable vigor. The liquefied bones, atrophied muscles, and organs metamorphosed into supreme bones and super durable organs. The bodily reconstruction was as equally painful as the deconstruction. However, due to a short heart-to-heart illusory convo with Death, Joe had begun adapting to it. As the saying goes, ''What doesn''t kill you only makes you stronger.''


    Life and Death... All in a single instance.


    Feeling that he had had enough of the engulfing darkness, Joe forcefully broke through the restraining steely body cuffs. Then, with one mighty kick, he kicked the metal pod''s door, hurling it across his lab.


    In one swift movement, he unconsciously performed a superhero landing in all his naked glory like the effin'' Terminator. The reinforced floor caved in under his weight and inviolable power.


    ''I feel as if I''m in a different bod¡ª'' Joe had a fleeting thought, however, a sudden wave of vertigo hit him hard. He was mentally depleted after fighting for his survival. Soon, he collapsed against his wishes as he tried to hang onto his consciousness.


    The last thing he heard was Minerva urging him to wake up.


    ¡­


    [Word Count 2040]

 [43] I鈥檓 a F*cking Supe!

    Why did you kill us?


    What did we ever do to you? We didn''t deserve to die.


    Are you the only one allowed to live?


    We had families to take care of.


    You are evil! Ruthless! Such a heartless bastard!


    You aren''t even human! You are a monster!


    You massacred us! So we will drag you down to hell with us, where you truly belong.


    Come down with us!


    Drown in guilt and despair, ye fool!


    We won''t ever leave you alone until you face the consequences and pay for your demonic sin.


    You shall forever be damned, Joe Petersen! Murderer!


    "Just shut the hell up, you fuckers!" Joe shouted in anger before his eyes abruptly snapped open. Instinctively, he punched towards his left and his fist blasted something metallic into innumerable pieces.


    BANG!


    The sound of destruction immediately refreshed his cognitive functions as he gazed to his left. The scene made him sigh with an apologetic look on his face.


    "Bee, why did you have to be there? And I thought I had started liking your presence," Joe silently lamented the fall of the little robot assistant.


    "Here I was worried about someone that feels bad after destroying a defective product," Minerva''s voice, tinged with both worry and relief, interrupted his mourning.


    Joe shook his head and rubbed his temples. "Minerva, just give me a sec to pay respects to Bee''s soul, alright?"


    "That''s funny because I don''t remember something that defective robot having a soul," Minerva lightly spoke in an amused voice as her holographic visage flickered into existence.


    "Are you being salty and jealous, Minerva?" Joe groaned in fake exasperation.


    "Hmph! Who''s jealous of whom? I''m superior to it." Minerva scoffed in bitterness, her arms crossed defensively.


    "Don''t you remember Bee''s significance? How it reminded me of some aspects of myself?" Joe smiled, noting Minerva''s straightforward reaction. Then, he propped himself before standing up.


    Joe noticed the vertigo was no longer there. His balance and agility felt as if he was rooted to the very earth itself. His sense of stability was beyond unprecedented.


    What is this lingering sense of ascendance as if I''m above the room, the clouds... above gravity? Joe thought in awe. He was unusually high; his brain easily dealt with sensory overload.


    He looked at the blinding florescent lights above, however, they seemed dim to his eyes. It didn''t make him flinch or uncomfortable.


    Joe inhaled deeply, feeling the powerful suctioning force of his lung; the mysterious flow of illimitable energy coursing through his veins.


    "Joe, what are you¡ª?" Minerva decided to cut through his moment, but Joe raised a restraining finger.


    "This is..." Joe said in awe as he looked down at his body. He now had enviable godly pectorals, well-defined deltoids, and rock-hard abs that looked like a dream. Joe tentatively touched his abs, feeling the raw core strength packed within.


    ''If flexed enough, these babies can munch iron into scrap.'' he mused with delight before shifting his focus to his ''package''.


    "Wow... is this the whole yogurt factory? Sheesh, I can only accept it even though I''m not a breeder," Joe chuckled, his fingers notoriously playing with the upgraded Excalibur and two dragon balls.


    "Oh God, stop with the incel act, Joe. How can you do ''that'' in front of a minor?" Minerva complained, her holographic fingers hiding her embarrassed face. "Just put on some clothes first, neander-... Sir!"


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    Joe rolled his eyes and shamelessly proceeded to flex his thick muscles like some Roman/Greek sculpture. Now he was akin to a literal Greek God or whatever that was. If previously he had been lean and toned, his musculature was now on the bigger side due to increased bone and muscle density.


    "Okay, I''m tired of pretending to be Adam," Joe smirked as he put on his lab coat to keep things PG-13.


    Minerva sighed in relief before observing him closely. Feeling more comfortable with him having clothes on over his disgustingly sexy and hot¡ª


    Joe narrowed his eyes as a sudden thought crossed his mind. "Don''t you think you overreacted, Minerva? Aren''t you the person with almost unlimited access to nudity and... adult sites over the internet?"


    "Really? I''ve got better things to do than skim through some low-quality porn," Minerva replied in displeasure.


    "Atta girl. I was just joking with you." Joe flashed her an apologetic grin. He took a silver tray from the workbench and checked his reflection.


    "Hmm, the hell do I look like an ultra instinct Giga Chad? Won''t these perfect jawlines cut through vibranium?" He arched his brows as he inspected his facial features. Bored at looking at himself, he threw the silver tray away.


    Standing in the middle of his lab, Joe gradually closed his eyes. His heightened senses picked on his eternally illustrious heartbeat, the vigorous flow of blood full of vitality, the contraction of his body muscles, the distant sounds of people talking miles away... There was so much information and all could be analyzed simultaneously. He was even more aware of the odor radiating off his body.


    "I currently smell like some sewage rat. Did I take a Body Cleansing pill or a super soldier serum?" Joe shrugged to himself.


    "Anyway, Minerva, it''s time to run a couple rounds of tests," Joe ordered before taking a syringe and trying to extract his blood sample. However, the needle failed to prick even his pores and quickly bent.


    Joe then cast a dubious look at Minerva. "Is that what I think it is?"


    "I don''t know. Try something else. I need more data." Minerva was also curious about the high defense on his skin.


    Joe nodded and took a stainless steel knife.


    CRR!


    The knife also broke the moment it forcefully met his skin.


    Joe frowned and thought of a more lethal approach. He looked at the drawers far off in the distance.


    Later on, he could be seen holding a Beretta 92FS against his skin.


    "Oh fuck, here we go again." Joe positioned the muzzle a few inches from his arm.


    "I''ve gone crazy, but crazy''s what defines me anyway. I can only if invulnerable against standard munitions through this test."


    With his steady breath and expert hold on the gun like a special ops prodigy, Joe pulled the trigger without blinking.


    BANG!


    At point blank, the bullet instantly ricocheted off his skin and embedded itself on the wall.


    A shocked expression formed on Joe''s handsome face as he gazed at the spotless recently gunned-down skin.


    "Am I... Invulnerable? Did I... Just shrug off a bullet off my skin?" A hilarious smile slowly crept up his mouth.


    "Hahaha!" He began laughing out loud like the final hidden boss.


    "I''m a fucking supe!"


    "I''m a fucking supe!" Joe repeated the same words in awe and disbelief.


    He was extremely happy. No, that term couldn''t even begin to expound on what he was currently experiencing.


    Minerva watched from the sides as Joe went full-on mental. ''Why is he tweaking?''


    While she was genuinely happy seeing Joe laugh like that, she thought there was a need to include a psychological evaluation in the tests.


    After Joe finished bursting his own bubble, a relaxed expression gradually settled on his face.


    He had already made a remarkable step toward transcendence. The effort he had made was praiseworthy, but he didn''t need anyone''s praise on something that he was supposed to do. Now, his flesh was no longer weak. As to which extent? There was a wide array of tests to gauge his limits before getting conceited. Even though he knew he was still an insignificant character in the infinite multiverse, he didn''t beat himself down. He strived to get even stronger. After all, the power of the gods can''t be cultivated within mere weeks.


    ***


    Three hours later.


    Inside the training room.


    "I''m stronger. Faster. Smarter. I''m better," Joe said, wondrously gazing at his hands. He wasn''t even out of breath after lifting weights in excess of tons, bending steel like clay, running faster than an Olympic medalist, punching through a reinforced wall... He could perform so many superhuman acts.


    "And this stamina... I could do this for an eternity." Joe felt he was the upgrade of Captain America like how Homelander taunted Soldier Boy. However, that only applied to raw strength and physical stats. The same couldn''t be said in terms of battle experience.


    If this isn''t true evolution, then what is?


    "Joe, the tests showed a 300% increase in muscle density, a 500% increase in mitochondrial activities, and... your telomeres..." Minerva announced in excitement.


    "Spit it out." Joe voraciously drank a smoothie. God knows the calories he needs to consume.


    "Your telomeres have become simply unbelievable. With their length, you have almost stopped cellular senescence. Your cells also register extreme telomerase activity. You have become the key to¡ª" Minerva explained enthusiastically.


    "So I''m now virtually immortal?" Joe loudly sucked on the smoothie.


    "Not really. You can easily live for multiple centuries. As for how long? I''m not sure."


    "But did you have to interrupt my analysis?" Minerva asked in an aggrieved tone.


    As Joe listened to the analysis of his new genetic composition, suddenly he got a call from Gwen.


    "Minerva, give me a moment please." Joe raised his palm before receiving the call.


    "Hi, Gwen."


    "J-Joe, Come¡ª" Gwen''s shaky and distressed voice was momentarily heard before the call ended.


    "Gwen, hello?" Joe furrowed his brows at the anomaly.


    Something wasn''t right. Something must have happened to Gwen.


    ''I hope nothing bad has happened...yet.'' Joe thought with worry.


    "Minerva, trace the call ASAP. Also, try to access the footage of Gwen."


    It seems trouble had come knocking, not to his door, but Gwen''s. And he couldn''t just stand by watching.


    Whether it was a trap or a lie, he would know after Minerva gave him some insights!


    ***


    [Word Count 1655]

 [44] John Wick On Meth

    The garage door slid open, revealing Joe Petersen astride his revving Harley, impatience etched on his face.


    He placed an earpiece on his right ear. Next, he wore a pair of smart AR glasses.


    "Minerva, send me the surveillance footage of Gwen''s latest siting. Also, show me the quickest path I can take to reach her," Joe ordered, his eyes turning colder with each passing second.


    "Already on it. This is where Gwen was last sighted. And through her cell signal, I''ve pinpointed her exact location," Minerva replied and subsequently sent grainy live footage of Gwen entering an alley. With Minerva''s access to multiple street cameras, Joe could view everything from different angles. There was no need to ''borrow'' Tony Stark''s satellites for that.


    "That''s downtown. The neighborhood around there reeks of hooliganism and low lives." Joe furrowed his brows before smoothly accelerating from his garage.


    "But what business did Gwen have around that area?" Joe asked himself, clearly confused as the warm wind whipped past his face.


    Joe knew it wasn''t his job to constantly monitor those close to him. That would make him a domineering and creepy control freak. Beyond their close relationship with him, people like Gwen and Peter also had their own lives to experience. Not everything was centered around him, Joe had acknowledged that fact long ago.


    BOOM!


    All of a sudden, thunder clapped mightily, the sound frighteningly high and eerie. It was then followed by stormy clouds and lightning flashes bloating out the moon.


    Joe momentarily looked up at the sky, his frown deepening further. ''I should really start paying attention to the weather forecasting channel. Now I''m gonna get drenched in rainwater.''


    ''But it doesn''t matter. What matters currently is Gwen''s situation and safety.'' Joe thought as he once again increased the turbo engine power. His figure became a blur on the city road like an NFS sportscar. Following some simple upgrades and tinkering by Joe, the Harley was currently faster than the Koenigsegg and Chiron. Its speed topped at 436 miles per hour, and that was Joe restraining himself from going overboard.


    Joe glanced at the virtual map, specifically at the red dot and its radius. He was five minutes away from reaching Gwen. Time felt abnormally slow due to the severity of the occasion. During this moment, Joe wished he could fold the fabric of space and time. However, if wishes were horses, beggars would ride. Joe couldn''t get whatever he wanted at the exact moment like a fucking genie with the lamp.


    On several occasions, he had thought of pursuing the clich¨¦d path followed by most main characters when they find themselves in Marvel¡ªtraveling to Kamar Taj to seek the Ancient One. Honestly, the notion sounded so easy, but Joe pursued rationality in most cases. He was in a really dangerous world which was no longer fiction. The human nature was difficult to gauge. Whatever information he had about the Marvel characters was subject to alterations. Joe had to treat these humans with caution.


    When he goes to the Sanctum in Kathmandu, will the Sorcerer Supreme accept him just like that? No. Joe didn''t think so. There was no free lunch in this world. Humans would always want something from you. Another worrying factor was the presence of one of the Infinity Stones, The Time Stone. With the Time Stone, the Ancient One could peek through the Infinite Possibilities and infinite timelines. She could effortlessly see his past in this universe except for his previous life origin. Joe hoped that the Supreme Entity had truly masked his secret identity from troublesome cosmic gazes.


    Worries aside, Joe understood that the Ancient One on most occasions was on the side of humanity. So... She couldn''t be that bad, right? Well, he was only going to find out on the day he says, ''Fuck it'' and go there. Who knows? Maybe the Ancient One has already become aware of his existence. Joe had to consider all avenues of thought.


    As Joe dangerously rounded a corner, it was then that the pregnant sky broke its waters and rain started falling down.


    ''I''ve arrived.'' Joe looked at the entrance to an inconspicuous alley as he skidded to a halt


    "So this is where the connection got cut off?" Joe murmured to himself. A murderous edge could be felt in his voice.


    "Minerva, briefly divert the attention of the cams on this area. Things might get gory if I even find one strand of hair on her body harmed."


    "Don''t worry about that. I''ve already sorted that out. You can do anything...you want," Minerva assured him.


    "Good work."


    Joe dashed toward the alley, his inhuman speed covering huge distances in a second. Joe''s momentum broke the cascading droplets of rain; bringing the illusion of them evading him.


    With his supernatural sense of smell, Joe picked up the unmistakable scent of iron¡ªblood. And there was something else. It was Gwen''s signature perfume and her unique scent. A dark foreboding feeling gripped his heart.


    The further he followed the meandering paths of the dimly lit alleys, the stronger the scents became.


    Something worth noting was the absence of the homeless hobos.


    ''Probably escaped to other places to steer clear of trouble. I reckon they have a huge sense of danger.'' Joe analyzed, his eyes scanning every minute detail of his surroundings.


    ''They are close. Please. Please let her not be the one.'' Joe clenched his fists, afraid of the worst and unexpected fuckery from fate.


    "Hehe, boss. Do you think her Daddy dearest will come?" Joe picked up a gruff voice from a corner.


    "How can he after I stomped his little girl''s phone into fucking pieces?!" Another voice laughed out in sadistic pleasure, followed by other men.


    "Oh, I''m so scared. Do you think a piece of wood will do anything to us, bitch?"


    "Nate, you''re the one that got the taste of her pepper spray. How did it feel?"


    "Shut Your gaping hole, dog wanker!"


    "Hehehe!"


    Joe stopped when he spotted them. They were around seven men, but Joe''s attention was mostly on the young woman on the ground, backed against the wall. Her coat had been torn. Her favorite scarf lay wet on the dirty ground. Despite the dimness of the alley, Joe saw the purple bruising on her left cheek and the bloody split on her trembling lower lip. Gwen put on a brave front when facing the seven men as she held onto a piece of wood. She was in despair. The more desperate she became the more it made those men excited¡ªamplifying their sadistic boners.


    "Boss, don''t you think it would be a waste if we don''t sample her virginity?" Another slimy-looking fucker with a hooked nose suggested. His impure gaze never left Gwen''s wet blouse. He licked his lips disgustingly when he saw the sudden tremble on Gwen''s chest.


    "One of these days, you might lose your dick and balls due to your doggy horniness," The boss warned threateningly, slapping the back of his head.


    "Ouch, Boss. B-But she''s so pretty and hot!"


    ''These fuckers haven''t yet noticed me and they are taking their sweet time to torture Gwen''s psychology.'' Joe suddenly felt unusually calm as he looked at Gwen''s terrified eyes and the make-up smudges on her beautiful face. Sighing softly, Joe removed his glasses and pocketed them. ''Just how cliched can the situation get with these low-level mobs?''


    "Hello, boys. Daddy''s home!" Joe introduced himself. It was then that thunder rumbled and lightning flashed against his menacing background.


    All eyes immediately turned to him. In the eyes of the seven men, there was shock, relief, pity, and humor. In the eyes of Gwen, there was disbelief, fear, confusion, and relief.


    "Joe!" Gwen struggled to shout his name, her voice cracking with emotion. Gwen gave Joe a warning glare, telling him that he would meet the same fate. The men who had cornered were very dangerous.


    "Please leave this place! Don''t think about calling my Dad!" Gwen screamed, her message slightly muffled by the rain hitting the ground.


    Joe wordlessly nodded at her, pretending not to have heard her.


    "Well, well. Now who do we have here? Didn''t expect the bitch to holler up her boyfriend?"


    "I''m surprised that someone could even reach this secluded place," the leader sneered, bringing focus to his scarred grotesque features. He didn''t think Joe posed any danger to them. He was probably just a pretty face and nothing more. What could he hope to achieve against a group of fierce and armed men? Nothing.


    "Dog, you''re not him," he spat on the ground.


    ''There''s no need to keep him alive.'' Mr. Scarface thought.


    "Nate, go and unalive him. Our primary focus is on the chick alone. We need to make George go through the five stages of grief," Mr Scarface ordered the most muscular guy in the group. That guy was six-five and beefed up like a Mexican bull.


    Joe arched his brows, as he began slowly walking toward ''Solomon Grundy.'' Scenic images of the decapitated body of his opponent flashed in front of Joe''s eyes. He had thousands of ways to murder him.


    "Boy, I''m going to burst your head like a fucking pinata. You shouldn''t have come here to save your bitch!" The beefy guy growled, killing intent oozing off his gigantic form as he cracked his knuckles.


    ''I have marked all those that called Gwen a bitch.''


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    Joe remained calm, waiting for ''Grundy'' to make his move. He was extremely angry enough to paint the alley red with dead bodies. However, Gwen was present. Joe didn''t want Gwen to see him as a bloodthirsty monster.


    "Kid, you have the nerve to space out in front of me!" Mr. Grundy noticed that Joe''s eyes weren''t on him and it increased his wrath. Fueled by the intent to squash Joe, Mr. Grundy lunged forward. Despite his gargantuan size, his speed couldn''t be underestimated.


    Joe frowned. The reason: Grundy was too damn slow. If his temporal perception before undergoing biological rebirth was five times higher than normal humans, this time it was thirty times.


    Joe calmly watched Grundy''s fist, powerful like Mike Tyson''s, hurtling toward him. He sidestepped with ease, then grabbed Grundy''s wrist and, with a brutal twist, tore his hand from his arm with surgical precision. Thick rivulets of red blood and bone fragments spewed everywhere and mixed with the rain.


    Confusion filled Grundy''s eyes, not understanding what had just happened. Then, it came. The searing, unadulterated pain.


    "Aargh!" Grundy howled in pain.


    "Be silent," Joe ordered and swiftly tore his other wrist before throwing his hand into a nearby dumpster.


    Grundy continued screaming as he stared down at his handless arms in shock and disbelief. That was the first time in his entire life that he met someone capable of tearing a sturdy body apart like it was nothing. Even the Kingpin, the undisputed underworld emperor, wasn''t capable of such a feat.


    "You''re making me uncomfortable with your voice," Joe cold stated before slapping Grundy''s lower jaw and dislocating it. The force was enough to nearly rip his mouth apart!


    BANG! Joe threw him away into a huge bin, away from his path. If he hadn''t lessened his throwing momentum, he would have turned Grundy into a pile of meaty shit.


    Before the shocked goons could react to the sudden superhuman display, Joe''s figure blurred, like he had teleported and arrived in front of ''Captain Hook''.


    The man dared to lewd and defile Gwen with his filthy eyes.


    "You shouldn''t have thought of sexual harassment, rapist," Joe calmly spoke out, his voice chillingly low and terrifying. Captain Hook felt as if he had seen the gates of hell and Joe was the king of hell itself. At that moment, he couldn''t control his bladder and pissed himself. Joe clicked his tongue when he caught a whiff of the piss.


    Without warning, he kicked him between his legs, crushing his balls, and fracturing his sacral bone. That was a move to sever his bloodline completely. Even surgery wasn''t going to help Mr. Hook.


    "Aargh!"


    KACHA!


    Joe mercilessly broke his arms, both of his humerus showing through his bleeding skin. Then, he headbutted his eyes into blindness and dropped him on the ground.


    "YOU BASTARD! I''LL KILL YOU! BOYS, LET''S GANG UP ON HIM!" The Boss shouted, his eyes reddening in blind fury. His legs were shaking, but he mustered up his will to stand against the monster if they wanted to survive. The boss wasn''t alone. The remaining gang had been shaken up pretty badly by Joe''s apathetic bodily execution.


    The four men each armed with metal bats, crowbars, and knives rushed toward him.


    One of the men swung a crowbar at his head, two knives tried to simultaneously stab his throat, and a metal bat tried to cripple his legs.


    A cold smile lingered on his lips as he allowed the weapons to land on him. He wanted to give them hope for survival.


    CLANG!


    Four pairs of eyes glanced at him in surprise, shock, and despair. Their eyes were probably asking, "Is this guy even human?"


    Joe nodded in silent agreement, confusing them even further.


    Like a speed demon, he quickly aimed low but lethal kicks at the men and bent their bones in unnatural ways. They all kissed the ground, groaning and screaming like pigs being butchered. Metaphorically, Joe was the butcher.


    Seeing all of his men easily disposed of like they were fucking useless, Mr. Boss brandished a gun and pointed it at Joe, his hands trembling. His beads of cold sweat drizzled along with the raindrops. Then, he pulled the trigger.


    BTUU!


    Joe''s gaze never left the boss''s arm. He monitored each contraction and relaxation of his muscles. In addition to his obvious fear-stricken eyes, all of that made it possible for him to predict the bullet''s trajectory. With his current enhanced reflexes, Joe was confident enough to dodge the bullet. However, he didn''t do so. He...


    Joe caught the bullet with his hand, astounding both the Boss and Gwen whose mind was on the brink of insanity at the inhuman scenes she was witnessing.


    Did he just catch a bullet with his bare hand? Gwen pinched her bruised cheek to clarify her current reality.


    What the fuck? W-What the fuck is wrong with my best friend? What the fuck am I witnessing?!


    "Smells like shit," Joe''s expression soured as he flicked the deformed bullet with his thumb.


    "Did you gun-bang your ass with that pistol of yours?!" Joe pointed a blaming finger at the Boss.


    "Ah!" Black lines appeared on the Boss''s temple as he relentlessly started shooting.


    BTUUU!


    BTUUU!


    ''While I''m not afraid of them, If I don''t evade those bullets, they might ricochet off me and hurt Gwen.'' Joe analyzed with a serious gaze and then... he moved. His movements were unpredictable, like a dragonfly, zigzagging at such proximity while bullets whizzed past him.


    "Playtime''s time over," Joe coldly stated as his palm enclosed the muzzle before crushing both the man''s hand and the gun into pieces. Then, he gently hit his solar plexus, broke his ribs, ripped his quadriceps, crippled his legs and arms, and finally semi-paralyzed him. It was enough torture to leave them alive and dead at the same time.


    After dealing with the Boss, Joe gazed at Gwen. "Gwen," he called out softly, the iciness in his eyes melting away.


    "A-Are you r-really Joe... Joe Petersen? My Joe Petersen?" Gwen stared at him in horror as she tried to bury herself in the wall. The current Joe was more frightening than even those guys who had hurt her.


    Joe frowned slightly, then his face relaxed, showing deep sadness in his sapphire eyes.


    "I''m Joe, Gwen," Joe patiently explained as he slowly approached her.


    Gwen tried to move away from him. "Stay back! Move only when I tell you!"


    She struggled to rise from the ground while using the walls for support.


    "The way you destroyed those men... That power... What have you done to yourself?"


    "The Joe I know would never even harm someone to that extent!"


    A hurt expression momentarily flashed on Joe''s face.


    "Gwen..." Joe sighed in a low-spirited voice. ''She is one of the last people I don''t want to see me as a monster. But I better let her face this dark side of me. To protect her...''


    "...The Joe you know will do everything to protect you," he said in a sincere tone. And in one step, he arrived in front of Gwen and swept her into his arms.


    Gwen''s eyes widened as she squealed in surprise at the suddenness of being in his strong arms. Her mind was filled with confusion. Had Joe possessed these abilities for a long time? Why hadn''t he ever disclosed this to her? What other things about him had she remained unaware of?


    "Let me go, you brute!" Gwen stubbornly retaliated, her small fists beating his immaculate chest.


    "Shh shh, it''s alright. Everything''s alright now," Joe murmured soothingly in her ear.


    "Let go of me..." Gwen weakly protested, followed by hot tears rolling down her cheeks. Her bruised left cheek stung like hell. The pain was almost unbearable.


    "Unhand me... Joe. I-I just want to go home." She tightly clutched at the fabric of Joe''s wet shirt, her face hiding deeper into his comfortable and warm chest.


    "I-I''m afraid, Joe," Gwen whispered, exhaustion gradually overtaking her.


    Gwen''s day had been traumatizing enough to make her just want to cry her tears dry and then sleep like a log. Everything had been chaotic and her mind needed time to heal. There were so many unanswered questions she wanted to ask. However, she lacked the energy and initiative.


    "I''m here," Joe reassured her, hugging her even more protectively.


    Under the flashes of lightning, booming thunder, and brutalized enemies, Joe carried a sleeping Gwen to safety.


    "Are you going to leave them alive?" Minerva, who had been silent the whole time, asked through the earpiece. "I know you didn''t exactly kill them because of Gwen."


    Joe gazed at Gwen''s cute sleeping face. "There''s no need to kill them... right now. Those men are only disposables. The people behind them are the ones needing some uprooting."


    "If they have already targeted Mr. Stacy''s weakness, then the cycle won''t easily end," Joe explained.


    "So... will we still kill them?" Minerva insisted.


    Joe clenched his jaw in frustration. "Hire someone to clean it up. Anonymously tip them. Now''s not the time to make my name infamous."


    "That''s wise. You can''t dirty your hands every time an issue arises. Leave it to me."


    Joe lightly scoffed before his figure disappeared from the alley.


    That night he didn''t need to ''kill''.


    ¡­


    [Word Count 3136]

 [45] Anti-fragile

    Warning: (Corny fluff alert)


    After Joe rescued Gwen, he didn''t head straight to the warehouse. He branched off to his apartment. Only at his home would she feel more comfortable after waking up. It would have been a drag to deal with if she woke up and realized she was surrounded by high-value laboratory equipment and a long list of specimens. Joe could imagine the horror on her face.


    The first thing Joe did upon arriving home was call Gwen''s Dad to give him peace of mind. After that, he changed her out of her wet clothes and dressed her up with some of his spare. Seeing her naked didn''t faze him; he had evolved beyond such impulses. He could better control himself. After all, there was no sense of excitement in conquering a woman who was at her low moments.


    All in all, Joe didn''t feel awkward. ''Gwen''s going to throw a tantrum after waking up,'' Joe mused, chuckling to himself as he also changed into comfortable clothes.


    ''She looks like a lost lamb.'' Joe smirked as he gazed at Gwen''s sleeping face. Her face displayed various emotions within seconds. Sometimes there was a frown, sadness, happiness, relief, and despondency.


    ''A bad dream, huh?'' Joe arched his brows, finding her state pretty understandable. After going through a shit storm, it was quite expected.


    "Don''t¡­go~" She suddenly murmured, her voice low and distressed.


    "Don''t¡­ leave me... alone~"


    "Joe¡­save me..." She cried out, clutching her chest in pain as if her heart was bleeding.


    "D-Don''t...leave me!" Glistening beads of tears rolled across her face.


    Joe frowned and wiped the tears from her face. Gwen looked so vulnerable at that moment.


    "What could you be dreaming about, eh?" He murmured softly and decided to sleep beside her. As if sensing the additional heat and profound source of security, Gwen unconsciously snuggled closer. She threw her right leg over his abdomen while her hands tightly held onto his muscular body. She was like a koala, brazenly treating him like her teddy bear.


    Joe shook his head helplessly, secretly finding Gwen''s actions amusing and adorable. Gently raising her head, he wrapped a protective arm around her to provide her the warmth she was craving. Joe noticed a small, foxy smile playing on her face due to his gesture.


    ''What''s the Joe in the dream playing at?'' Joe wondered incredulously. ''Probably something diabolical.''


    Experiencing the sensation of her soft pliable body clinging to him, Joe also slowly began feeling sleepy. Her body was like a unique pillow if he had a word to describe her. Soon, he joined her in the world of dreams.


    ***


    The next morning, as the first golden rays of dawn crept into Joe''s room, Gwen gradually opened her eyes. She had never had such a wonderful and indescribable sleep in a long time. It subtly reminded her of the times when her father used to embrace her to sleep when she was little. The little Gwen thought Daddy would shelter her from all bad things. That feeling of the past seemed to have returned to the present. She could feel a strong possessive arm tightly restraining her.


    It made her feel like the safest woman in the whole wide world. It was simply astounding. But she was curious. Whose arm was it?


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    Within her barely awake mind, Gwen''s thoughts were slightly disorganized. Then, as her mind and eyes started to clear, she saw one of the most gorgeous faces sleeping next to her. Gwen was momentarily spellbound as she caught her breath.


    ''Was I kidnapped by an angel? Bullshit.'' Gwen furrowed her brows as the fragmented memories of the previous night''s events came rushing like a flood. The assault. The pain. Her fear. The trauma. Joe. Blood. Bones. Death?


    ''Joe isn''t an angel. He''s the damned Lucifer.'' Realization flashed in her eyes, her lips slightly trembling. Then, a complicated expression settled on her face. ''However, he saved me. If it weren''t for him, I-I don''t know what could have happened to me.''


    Gwen''s lips slightly stretched at the sides. ''Is that why he looks so different... and hella attractive when he''s asleep?''


    Gwen watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest, his breath lightly fanning her cheek. She suddenly found this mundane action super interesting. His rhythmic breath momentarily suppressed last night''s traumatic events. That sounded so ridiculous and corny.


    She lowered her gaze to his full perfect lips. They were tempting like some sort of aphrodisiac. Or maybe she had already been afflicted by an aphrodisiac.


    Gwen slowly began to narrow the gap between their faces. She could feel her heart furiously drumming against her chest. The cupid''s arrow had already pierced it. Her cheeks warmed with a deep shade of red due to the tension of her sneaky actions.


    Gwen based her actions on her emotions. She usually intertwined her feelings, logic, and rationality together to arrive at a decision. But now? She was only sailing on her feelings. They were their strongest at that moment. Stealing a kiss from a sleeping ''prince charming'' was the exact opposite of snow white. And it was criminal.


    She held her breath, her eyes instinctively half-closed, afraid it would startle Joe awake.


    "Ask and you shall be kissed. Why are you trying to steal my first kiss, Gwen?" An amused smile suddenly formed on Joe''s mouth, his words scaring the shit out of her. She panicked and immediately tried to untangle herself from his arms.


    After a few moments of struggling and finding that she couldn''t even nudge a single of his muscles, Gwen gave up.


    ''If I can''t run away, then I only have one option remaining,'' she thought urgently. ''I''ll have to be the shameless one.''


    ''I can''t admit that I was trying to steal a kiss from a sleeping man.''


    "G-Good morning, Joe. Um, what I''m doing in your bed?" Gwen asked, a confused expression on her face as she tried to muster up confidence.


    ''Oh god, this is embarrassing.'' She screamed internally.


    Joe couldn''t help but chuckle. ''Is she trying to act clueless and play the role of the fool? How can she try to weasel her way out of the situation by being as shameless as me?''


    "You''re in my bed because you asked me to sleep with you," Joe answered, a playful grin spreading across on his lips.


    Gwen was rendered speechless. "..."


    She had that ''discombobulated'' expression going on.


    "Have you lost your mind? I remember everything that happened yesterday. Those words never came from my mouth," Gwen sneered at him.


    "You''re just making things up."


    Joe was silent for a moment, donning a thoughtful expression. Then, he began imitating the words Gwen had spoken in her sleep last night.


    "No¡­ Please don''t leave me, Joe."


    "Hug¡­ me¡­ tighter~"


    "Oh, Joe~"


    Upon hearing his shameful voice, Gwen quickly hid her blushing face in his chest. She then tried to take a bite from his pecs, but her actions were proven futile. Her teeth couldn''t even leave a mark on his skin, making her remember that Joe wasn''t exactly human.


    "Don''t embarrass me any further," She finally pleaded after getting tired of hearing his amused laughter and mockery.


    "So, how are you currently feeling?" Joe asked with concern in his eyes.


    "Alright, I guess. I had a perfect beauty sleep courtesy of you, mister hero."


    "I''m no hero, you know that, right?"


    "It doesn''t matter what you say."


    There was a moment of silence before Joe suggested something embarrassing. "So can you finish the kiss that you wanted to steal from the poor me?"


    "Stop. There''s no way I''m kissing you." Gwen furiously shook her head. She wished the ground would open up and swallow her alive.


    "But you tried to do so to an innocent man, you nasty girl," Joe pressured her.


    "Who''s nasty?" She pouted, feeling wronged. There was no way she was going to admit her actions. Never.


    "Then I''ll do it if you don''t wanna do it." Joe showed her a mischievous smile as he stared her down.


    "I DARE you." Gwen gave him a warning gaze, challenging him.


    That fiery, wild gaze was all he needed. He couldn''t turn her down.


    With his large hand resting behind her head, Joe slowly pulled her face closer.


    Yes, he dared. But that didn''t mean he had to be pushy about it. Gwen was in a delicate state and he had to tread carefully. In essence, he was treating her like a valuable vase.


    "Gwen, can I kiss you?" Joe asked in a low voice, the tip of her nose already touching his. Gwen had to admit it herself to make it worthwhile.


    ''There wouldn''t be any thrill if it was that damn easy, right?'' he mused.


    Gwen suddenly felt weak against his sudden sweetness and consideration. She hadn''t expected Joe to be a romantic.


    With half-lidded eyes and muddled thoughts, Gwen no longer had control of her words.


    "K-Kiss¡­ Kiss me!"


    She couldn''t resist him. Maybe he was just what she needed to forget everything, to soothe the trauma and expel the fear.


    Maybe she wasn''t as anti-fragile as she had always thought.


    ***


    [Word Count 1532]

 [46] How To Fight

    Just a Quick Note: I don''t own any of the characters, worlds, or universes mentioned here (aside from a few original characters). They all belong to their respective creators and companies.


    This is a work of fiction created simply for fun and maybe a bit of inspiration. No offense or infringement intended.


    ***


    Gwen knew.


    She understood what that kiss would mean between them. It wouldn''t be as straightforward as she might have hoped. It was only going to complicate their current relationship. However, Gwen was none the wiser.


    Her emotions and the tension-filled mood overruled any thoughts of backpedaling, even if she wanted to. From the moment she had started her friendship with Joe Petersen, she wouldn''t have expected herself to feel attracted to him. Was it during their senior year, after graduation, or when they got into the same university?


    Anyway, all that didn''t matter. What mattered was the present. Her heart pounded in anticipation; her mouth watering in excitement. She had given consent and wanted him to soothe her aching heart.


    Joe gazed down at her sensually parted wet lips. Joe focused on her unsteady breathing¡ªsensing her hidden excitement¡ªas their breaths mingled with their noses just inches apart. He could hear her increased heart rate and smell both her anxiety and arousal.


    ''How will her lips taste?'' Joe thought in anticipation as he guided his thumb to her wet lips. Gwen''s body tensed, her breath quickening, and labored with each movement of his thumb. Joe was amused by her reaction as he traced the contours of her wonderful pink lips. A dark gleam flashed in Gwen''s eyes, momentary exposing her impatience and frustration. She bit on his thumb, making his heart nearly skip a beat.


    Joe read through the lines and smiled. His fingers tangled her soft hair as he dived in to complete the adjoining of their lips. An indescribable electric shock traveled down her spine. The kiss was electrifying; his mouth was soft, warm, and hard.


    Joe lost himself in her as their tongues intertwined. She was intoxicating, and he couldn''t get enough as his hand slid to her waist. He didn''t go any further out of consideration of what she had been through.


    ''Is this what it feels to live in heaven?'' Gwen thought wondrously, her eyes fluttering close to better experience the delectable sensations. Joe wasn''t just sending her to cloud nine, he brought the heavens directly to her.


    Gwen roughly combed through his unbelievably soft bed hair as they savored the kiss. She hadn''t expected his mouth to be that therapeutic as it slowly erased some of her fears. She felt safe and protected in his arms. She wanted more, but she knew it was dangerous.


    Time slowly passed and Gwen began feeling breathless and gently pushed at his chest. Joe sensed her discomfort and disengaged from the kiss, leaving her gasping for breath with her skin flushed.


    For a brief moment, they looked at each other. Both of them had an understanding at that moment. The relationship between them wasn''t going to be ever the same. They had crossed a weak barrier that stood between them. Could they still be considered friends? Yeah, they were still best friends, however, the situation had become slightly messier.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    ''Well, there''s no room for regret. I did it out of my own volition. Ugh... I don''t know anymore.'' Gwen briefly closed her eyes, her brows knitted together.


    Joe had different thoughts. He had foreseen such a situation for a long time. It was an inevitability between two attractive young adults. Now he just had to go with the flow. What they had shared was beyond simple physical magnetism. Or maybe it was him just overthinking things? Gwen was clearly not like the other girls he had previously interacted with.


    Was she maybe special to him more than the other girls? Joe sighed internally and calmed his mind. Their current relationship couldn''t just be defined by a single kiss, for Christ''s sake. It was vague at best.


    "How did it feel?"Joe asked gently, absent-mindedly playing with her hair. It was kind of weird asking how Gwen felt from the kiss. He was aware of her enjoyment, but still asked her nonetheless to break the awkward silence.


    Gwen''s eyes widened, surprised by his simple yet encompassing question.


    ''How did I feel?'' Gwen didn''t have a concrete answer to that. Some feelings just couldn''t effectively be put into words.


    "I-I... It was incredible. I guess It''s hard to explain how I felt," Gwen stammered, looking up at him.


    Joe chuckled slightly and suddenly hugged her even closer. "Yeah, I think so too."


    Not wanting to discuss the kiss any further, Joe tactically chose another topic. He asked, "Now that you''ve woken up, what do you want for breakfast?"


    "Um, I can eat anything you cook," Gwen declared in an anticipatory tone. "Just don''t cook anything nasty and poisonous," she added while chuckling.


    Gulugulu!


    It was then that her stomach grumbled in protest, the pangs of hunger catching up to her. She had barely eaten anything solid last night.


    After that sound, Gwen looked up in embarrassment, only to be met by Joe''s mirthful gaze.


    "It seems your stomach would cherish even my poisonous food," he commented before climbing off the bed while still in his boxers.


    "Guess I better get to it," Joe said, cracking his neck before leaving the room.


    Gwen arched her brows, her mouth slowly widening in astonishment. She then immediately tugged the blanket over her blushing face. She wished she hadn''t seen whatever she saw.


    "Does he have no shame, that bastard?" She silently cursed.


    ***


    After breakfast, Gwen was amazed at Joe''s cooking skills. The moist chicken breast salad he made left her completely satisfied. Now it seemed she got another reason to stick close to him, fearing that someone else might steal her divine chef.


    The thought sounded hilarious even to herself.


    Just how many forms of therapeutic treatments had Joe subjected to her? She wasn''t in the right state of mind to count. The gesture behind his actions was what she cared for.


    Joe had been there for her all along and Gwen didn''t know how to express her gratitude. It wouldn''t be enough. But despite all that, she understood she would ultimately have to face her fears alone. They couldn''t be conquered within days as she was in the process of healing. Just remembering about that terrible ordeal made her blame herself for being weak. Angry at herself for failing to instantly see through the ploy of the seven men. But who could she blame when the bait had been something she couldn''t ignore with her huge sense of justice?


    As the two closely sat on the couch while the TV played in the background, Joe noticed her clench her fists in frustration.


    ''She still has a lot in her mind, it seems. I want to ask her a few questions about how the situation culminated. However... I should wait for her to tell me whenever she feels comfortable.'' He pondered before placing his hand on her clenched one. He then gently squeezed her hand.


    After a few minutes of silence, Gwen nervously exhaled as if she had arrived at a resolution.


    "I had just clocked out from the lab..." She abruptly began narrating how the previous night''s situation had escalated.


    Joe attentively listened as he contemplated, ''By now, Minerva should already have ID''d those men and whoever they are connected to in the underworld. I hope the hired clean-up professional did a good work.''


    Anyway, after a few minutes, Gwen finished sharing the information. It had taken a lot to recount all that stuff she didn''t wish to remember. But she had to face it for her own and Joe''s sake.


    "You''ve gone through a lot, Gwen," Joe murmured, softly rubbing her shoulders. If there was something he had come to learn, it was that Gwen had a strong sense of justice. The young woman she had tried to impulsively save from the criminals had merely been a trap to lure her. And that led to her being cornered.


    Joe slightly furrowed his brows. ''If I had been in her situation, what would I''ve done? I don''t think I would have endangered my own life. And that''s what separates her from me.''


    ''I''m merely tarnished with no heroic qualities while she''s pure, stupid, and selfless. We''re polar opposites and that''s why I have to protect her.''


    "Joe," Gwen suddenly called him.


    "Hmm," Joe shook off his thoughts and murmured a reply.


    "Teach me how to fight," Gwen said abruptly, her voice resolute, firm, and full of conviction. "I-I want to be capable of protecting myself."


    "That night you showed me anything''s possible."


    In dramatic fashion, she slowly gazed up at him and said, "I want to be strong enough to take care of myself¡­to never feel that powerless again."


    ''This girl...'' Joe squinted his eyes with interest, finding her willpower something worthy of investing in. From her powerful gaze, It seems she didn''t plan on letting him refuse.


    ***


    [Word Count 1480]

 [47] Womp Womp

    Just a Quick Note: I don''t own any of the characters, worlds, or universes mentioned here (aside from a few original characters). They all belong to their respective creators and companies.


    This is a work of fiction created simply for fun and maybe a bit of inspiration. No offense or infringement intended.


    ***


    "This is the first time you have ever asked me for something. I can''t refuse you even if I wanted to," Joe said, a thin smile stretching his lips.


    Seeing Gwen still giving him those stubborn yet vulnerable doe eyes, he chuckled. "Okay, I''ll teach you how to protect yourself."


    Gwen showed a satisfied, victorious grin. "I was hoping you''d say that. I wasn''t sure how I''d react if you had refused."


    "Maybe... just disappointed and sad?"Gwen murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Then, she weakly shrugged to herself. Reluctantly, she edged away from Joe''s comforting warmth, the loss of contact leaving her feeling suddenly vulnerable.


    "I''ve no reason to deny you help that can save your life in these tumultuous times," Joe comforted her.


    "You are the only person I''ve left that I can call family. So... I don''t want to lose you too," he continued, his voice low and somber.


    Gwen''s heart ached at Joe''s words, sensing the hidden agony and loneliness beneath his stoic appearance. It was clear he still hadn''t fully processed the loss of his mother.


    This filled her chaotic heart with another layer of sorrow.


    ''It''s heartwarming that he thinks of me as a family but... I could be more than that.'' Gwen thought before hugging him instinctively. ''Sigh, it doesn''t matter. What matters is that we have each other''s backs. I''ll always be there for him and he, for me.''


    Joe slightly opened his mouth, surprised by Gwen''s sudden actions. He could only chuckle, thinking that Gwen was just being sentimental.


    "So when do you want to start? In your current state¡ª" Joe asked with concern, his palm resting on her head.


    "I''m good. We can begin anytime soon. Thanks for your concern," Gwen interjected stubbornly. She understood she wasn''t in her best state, but so what? She wanted something that could distract her. Something to channel her anger, pain, and fear through. Maybe...maybe it would ease her emotional turbulence.


    "Oh, I''ll respect your decision then," Joe nodded before rising from his seat.


    He then extended a hand at the astonished Gwen. "Why are you still lazing on the couch? Aren''t you curious about what I''ve been up to?"


    Gwen shook her head, a knowing smile beaming on her face. "Thanks for making my intentions easier. I really want to know how a few months made you more... super."


    She giddily took his hand and Joe supported her up.


    "But I wonder what made you want to expose your secret. After all, you have been low-key for months."


    Joe replied nonchalantly, "I just know that I can trust you, Gwen."


    ''Human nature is inscrutable and subject to myriad changes. But you, Gwen, I hope you won''t change and make me regret my trust in you.'' His eyes momentarily flashed with an indiscernible emotion as he deeply gazed at her.


    Gwen didn''t know how to feel about that. However, his response was everything she could ever ask for.


    ''Your secrets will forever die with me,'' She silently swore in her heart.


    "Let''s go." With his hand softly holding hers, Joe led Gwen out of the apartment.


    ***


    A few hours later, inside Joe''s research facility.


    Gwen sat on a rotating office chair, her face showing a blank expression. Various thoughts ran through her mind, making her sink further into a quagmire.


    She was questioning whether her life and everyone''s lives were a lie.


    There is an AI capable of evolving sentience and calculating millions of simulations instantly.


    Super soldier serum?


    Is this bastard even human?


    How is he able to come up with such incredible creations?


    Has he been hiding his superhuman intelligence among us, common folks, all this time?


    Could he be hiding even more things?


    "Stop hurting your brain with so many useless thoughts. There are a lot of surprises awaiting you and the world," Joe casually remarked.


    "I could cure Alzheimer''s Disease in the next few months, maybe cancer... Hey, there''s so much I can accomplish. You should start getting used to it."


    "Please stop... Just stop... You''re making it even worse," Gwen glared at him, her eyes wide like saucers.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    "Everything in this room... can surely lead to the World War III. Due to your extremely high value, the US government might take you into custody."


    "You''ll be a national treasure or even be made a lab rat. And that... that, oh boy, is some pretty bad news., I may be downplaying it. It could be worse."


    Gwen yapped without pause.


    "If they ever catch wind of your existence... Sigh, I wish I didn''t know about all this craziness," Gwen exhaled heavily and stood up abruptly.


    Joe lazily watched her, amused by her exaggerated reaction. He found her worries understandable. However, wasn''t she overreacting a little bit?


    ''How cute,'' he chuckled internally.


    "You can''t escape now that you know my twisted secret," Joe teased, his voice lowering to a whisper that sent a chill down her spine. "Our fates are sealed, and from now on, we''ll be hunted together, fugitives on the run¡­ forever."


    A cold dread coursed through Gwen''s veins at the sound of Joe''s ominous tone. After a moment, she noticed the amused grin on his face and realized he was just joking.


    "Hmph!" She scoffed in anger and embarrassment, finding him detestable.


    "Don''t you worry, Gwen. No one''s going to lay a hand on us. But still...I found your concerns valid," Joe assured her, his voice suddenly turning serious.


    "This warehouse while crudely fortified isn''t the safest place. So I''ll have Minerva search for..." Joe stopped and squinted his eyes.


    "Minerva," Joe called out, "Can you look for an uninhabited island nearby? Um, be on the lookout for medium-sized ones and so on."


    "Anything for you, Joe," Minerva responded instantly, her intimate tone causing Gwen to raise an eyebrow. She still couldn''t get used to Minerva''s lifelike, feminine voice¡ªit somehow irked her, as deep down, she saw Minerva as a love rival. But¡­ how was that even possible?


    Gwen didn''t want to be that person, but she''d read more than a few bestsellers about blossoming love between a man and an AI. Heck, there was even a movie. So... her worries were justified, right?


    ''I will keep an eye on her. See how she behaves on a day-to-day basis and interacts with Joe. Ugh, I can''t believe I''m worrying about him when he''s the creator of the AI.'' Gwen internally rolled her eyes.


    "Anyway, we didn''t come here for chit-chat, right?" Joe turned his attention to Gwen.


    Gwen nodded.


    Joe touched his chin thoughtfully. "You have about two months before summer break ends, right?" he asked, his eyes narrowing as if calculating the time.


    "Yeah."


    "Can you quit the work you do at Oscorp?"


    "That will be difficult. I enjoy working there; it''s my source of livelihood during the summer. Wait..." Realization dawned on her, her face illuminating with a moment of clarity.


    "Do you want to hire me or something?" She curiously asked.


    "Something like that. For the next few months, I''ll be working you to the bone¡ªand of course, building your foundation in martial arts," Joe said, cracking his knuckles menacingly. The situation didn''t bode well for Gwen.


    The last time Joe hired her, she got overworked but... She had to admit the overtime pay was worth it.


    Joe noticed her worries and laughed mirthlessly. "I won''t overwork you this time, but... be prepared for hellish training. Consider this my gentle reminder."


    "I won''t go easy on you."


    Gwen sighed in relief. At least, she won''t be burning the midnight oil on end. As for the martial arts training...


    "If it''s about the training, then I''m ready. I''ll tackle whatever you throw at me. I''m anti-fragile, remember?" She lifted her delicate arm and comically flexed her almost nonexistent biceps.


    Joe nodded in admiration, his dark thoughts hidden.


    Oh Boy, Gwen would later on wish she hadn''t used the term anti-fragile.


    "As your teacher, before we dive into the real training, I recommend building up the basics, such as your stamina," Joe said, flexing his arms dramatically.


    Gwen listened attentively. She was nervous and excited at the same time. She unconsciously kept clenching and unclenching her right hand.


    "Gwen, have you ever run for 10 kilometers?"Joe asked calmly, tilting his head slightly to the side.


    Gwen loudly swallowed her saliva, her future already seemingly bleak.


    "Don''t worry, Gwen. It will be fucking diabolical!" Joe smiled evilly.


    Womp Womp!


    ***


    Author''s Note: A time skip is coming up to advance the plot and introduce more intriguing characters.


    [Word Count 1450]

 [48] Her Growth

    Two Months Later.


    Inside a spacious training hall filled with various weapons and equipment, two people faced off against each other.


    The tension in the atmosphere was almost palpable as the two assumed fighting stances, gauging each other''s movements with each passing second.


    Hot sweat trickled down Gwen''s face, some of it stinging her eyes. Yet, the sweat and the rapid thumping of her heart felt inconsequential compared to the person she was sparring with¡ªJoe.


    Gwen''s breath was slightly labored, but she tried to mitigate the tiredness by controlling her breathing rate. The lactic acid burning in her muscles only sharpened her focus. The enemy wouldn''t go easy on her just because she was tired and needed a break. That was what Joe had taught her during the first lessons. She had to endure¡ªto persevere¡ªand surpass her limits.


    ''Be like water, gentle and unhurried.'' She recalled Joe''s nonsensical words that made him look like a hundred-year-old sage. While the words were weird and seemingly old-fashioned, they had a self-hypnotizing effect to quell her inner agitation.


    ''Damn, but my arms, knees, and legs are still aching from trying to inflict damage on his skin. This time I''ll make sure to land a critical hit.'' Gwen furrowed her brows in concentration as she slowly began to narrow the distance between them. She clenched both of her trembling hands and subtly gritted her teeth to offset the discomfort.


    Across the room, Joe calmly looked at Gwen. He didn''t even have a drop of sweat on his body, and his breathing tempo was controlled.


    "It''s commendable that you''re still standing, student," Joe said, slight admiration and amusement showing in his sapphire eyes.


    Gwen didn''t react to his soulless praises, staring impassively at him. After training with him for the past two months, she had already grown resistant to them. Conversations during a fight were also the ultimate weapons used in distracting your opponent if they''re careless. During the first week of her training, she had suffered severely from Joe''s venomous taunts. She had lamented the unfairness of it all as she had been nothing more than a martial arts greenhorn. Joe liked to play dirty and she learnt it the hard way.


    "Set those flames inside your heart ablaze. Round 2..." Joe casually motivated her, drawing some of his quotes from random animes. However, contrary to belief, Joe wasn''t earnest in his motivation since...the next moment, he took a step.


    Gwen''s eyes widened as she knew what came next. Joe''s figure blurred, almost as if he had teleported, and appeared in front of her. She narrowed her eyes in concentration and reacted preemptively. Gwen instinctively exploded backward, away from Joe''s lethal striking zone.


    But, before she could even take a breather, Joe lunged at her again. A sharp glint illuminated her pale blue eyes. Gwen efficiently sidestepped Joe''s buffalo charge. He was big and powerful like an unchained monster so it wasn''t wise to confront such simplistic, primal movements.


    Never fight an enemy using something that they are most proficient in. The words echoed in her heart as she deliberately aimed a deadly elbow at Joe''s ribs who seemed off balance. Gwen could have opted to use his momentum against him, however, she had chosen to follow her instincts.


    To sweep Joe and throw him using Judo would make Gwen sacrifice her balance. Additionally, on the ground, she had come to understand no amount of submission techniques could tangle the beast known as Joe.


    An imperceptible, vague grin tugged the corners of her lips when she felt her elbow manage a clean hit on his ribs. However, suddenly, Joe spun around before she could retract her arm. He feinted a jab to which Gwen reacted with a defensive knee raise.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    But then it happened.


    Gwen suddenly felt her world go round and round. The next moment, her buttocks hit the wooden floor with a thud.


    ''Again?'' Gwen clenched her jaws in frustration before fisting the floor.


    "Stop being predictable. I can see all your intentions through your eyes. While you''ve improved in faking your movements, your eyes still remain a hindrance," Joe advised, his voice firm as he looked down at her. "Also, stop overanalyzing every little detail."


    "Remember, a fight isn''t supposed to be fair. If you want to have enough time to contemplate which technique to use, then you should have extreme levels of situational awareness. You ain''t at that level yet."


    Gwen nodded, letting the teachings flow into her mind.


    Joe sighed and extended a hand. Gwen arched a brow at his kind gesture. But the instant she grasped his hand, she yanked him down with all her strength. A momentary look of surprise flashed on Joe''s face and before he knew it, Gwen''s legs tightly locked his neck like a boa constrictor''s grip. His entire arm got sandwiched between her soft thighs. Joe was surely caged.


    ''Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu comes in handy at times like this,'' Gwen smirked internally. She had finally taken her teacher by surprise.


    ''From his expression, he hadn''t expected me to pull a sudden ''uno reverse card'' as he liked to term it.''


    "I wanted to ask you how you always manage to make me hit the ground, but...it seems there''s no need since we''re both on the ground now." Gwen flashed a diabolical grin.


    "Oi, don''t you think it''s too early to start being arrogant?" Joe quirked a brow, his face a few centimeters away from her flustered one.


    "What will you do?" Her eyes challenged him playfully.


    They silently looked at each other, their hearts seemingly beating in synchrony. Could they be fighting for dominance?


    Joe lightly scoffed. "I guess... I would do fuckin'' nothing."


    "W-What?" Gwen stammered, with an astonished expression on her face. She couldn''t believe what she had just heard.


    "You heard me. I quite enjoy the warmth here. Now I can die without regrets," Joe shamelessly declared, even to the point of pretending to close his eyes¡ªafter all, he had already accepted his fate.


    It took Gwen a full minute to process this hubris.


    "What a perv!" She begrudgingly yelled at him, a blush tinting her cheeks red. Then, she hurriedly freed him from her death grip.


    Joe erupted in laughter as he lay beside her on the wooden floor.


    "I''ll make it a career if you continue calling me that."


    Gwen turned her head sideways to face him and whispered, "P.E.R.V."


    "Say it one more time," Joe warned jokingly, staring at Gwen.


    "Pervert."


    "I''m not forgiving you." Joe immediately began targetting Gwen''s weak points, tickling her until she surrendered.


    "Haha, o-okay... you''re not a perv. Y-You are the greatest teacher on earth. Pweasee, I surrender!" Gwen''s body shook with uncontrollable laughter, her eyes crinkling at the corners. Tears of mirth threatened to spill as she gasped for air between giggles.


    Joe finally spared her, leaving her breathless, weak, and... sweaty.


    It was during moments like these that Gwen forgot about the traumatic events of the past. Whether she was fighting and training with Joe, or they were casually talking about nonsense during research sessions, being with him made her feel like a carefree bird. During those two months, she had suffered and wanted to give up on several occasions. However, Joe had been there to support her with tough love. When it came to training, Joe didn''t go easy on her. He had been hard on her, and through those hardships, she had learned that the fights she might face wouldn''t always go with her flow.


    The world was already a cruel place to live so shading some naivety along the line wasn''t so bad. She had to evolve to fight the demons, and the fears and be the better version of herself.


    Gwen knew she couldn''t always depend on Joe. She ultimately had to fight her own fights and survive.


    "Can I now be considered a graduate of your teachings, sensei?" Gwen curiously asked after putting her introspection aside.


    Joe didn''t answer her at first and put his arms behind his head, comfortably raising it.


    "I''ve taught you everything you need for your survival. From the foundations of Krav Maga, Muay Thai, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, Judo and instances of armed combat..." Joe responded in a reminiscent tone.


    "Of course, there''s always more to learn, but what matters is having the basics to the tee. I taught you intending to make an all-rounded fighter capable of surviving in different scenarios."


    "You''ve shown exceptional improvement and grit throughout the training. As a teacher, I can''t say I''m disappointed. You have fought several times against a superhuman. If you haven''t already graduated, then what else? Did you want a certificate or something?" Joe gave her a sideway smile.


    Gwen blinked, feeling somehow proud of herself for surviving the hellish training.


    She smiled back at him. "Maybe you should consider processing one for me."


    "Do you want some beating?" Joe gazed at her seriously.


    Gwen paused and shook her head in defeat.


    "You are such a spoilsport, Joe," she complained in a low voice, the overhead lights reflecting in her pupils.


    "By the way, how''s Pete''s progress in researching the cure for Alzheimer''s?" Gwen showed a contemplating face and finally asked.


    Joe sighed. "Nothing yet. But I chose him to be the head of R&D of our future pharmaceutical company for a reason. I know he will pull it off."


    "I''m amazed by your faith in him. You also believed in me when I failed to believe in myself," Gwen commented, her voice filled with emotions.


    "I have an eye for talent."


    "Can I ask you something off-topic? It''s kinda stupid, but whatever."


    "Go on."


    "Can... Can you win against Spider-Man with your current strength?"


    Joe silently looked at the lights and smiled mysteriously.


    "He might bring me some trouble."


    "Would you lose then?"


    Joe chuckled softly. "Nah, I''d win."


    ¡­.


    [Word Count 1666]

 [49] Minecraft, GOTY award, Setting the Stage, And Miss Hardy?

    There''s this quote that states, ''Time flies, and so should you.'' Humans weren''t designed to fly like winged avians, but they could technically achieve flight. Anyway, the quote doesn''t have any connection with flight, but instead correlates with time and opportunity.


    From the end of summer through the beginning of fresh autumn and finally, to the festivities that come with winter, just like that, four months flew by. And Joe as the surfer of the sea of time, gripped on the opportunities and rode the waves.


    From the moment Joe arrived in this world, he knew that he had to thrive in all facets of his own individuality. Survival wasn''t only fixed on the physical sense, but also on financial and personal development. Joe felt he had to leave a mark in the history of gaming. But was one mark truly enough? He was going to usher in the Big Bang¡ªthe supernova to redefine everything.


    Joe was on a path of dominance, his vision breaching the confines of time and extending into the promising future. During those four months, Joe with the assistance of Pete, Gwen, and the main supporter, Minerva, had been deeply invested in game development. The Marvel Universe needed the concept of a truly revolutionizing sandbox game.


    So he thought, why not? The gaming community needed something to talk about. The gaming industry, which was stagnating due to a lack of innovation, needed a spark. Minecraft had all that¡ªinnovation, infinite possibilities, unpredictability, simple and exciting mechanics. There was no boredom as it catered to all age groups, from the children to the adults.


    Of course, Joe didn''t just blatantly copy and paste(technically it''s still copyright infringement). He modified the graphics, expanded the world, and brought new features like improved audio-visuals, skins, and next-level textures and shaders. In honor of Minecraft''s original creator, Mojang Studio, Joe didn''t change its title even in other worlds. He could have tried to be a smart ass and just call it PixelCraft or something like PixelWorks.


    Joe used the revenue generated from the top-grossing mobile game, Candy Crush Saga, and millions of dollars he had earned from stock market trading to secure a company building in New York City. The company building also had state-of-the-art data centers to smoothly host the influx of players from all over the world. This data center was the main one, with others evenly distributed in regions like Asia and Europe. Of course, America had the most servers. Call it circumstantial favoritism, but the other regions weren''t affected by high pings in any way.


    The location he had picked had a low chance of suffering collateral damage in preparation for the upcoming Chitauri invasion. Even if he didn''t care that much about money, there was no reason to take on losses from an entrepreneur''s perspective.


    Due to his visionary leadership, Joe successfully established the gaming subsidiary corporation, Big Bang Studios, under the banner of Prometheus International. "It was the first step¡ªthe foundation for his inevitable rise as a master strategist. Power, a curious thing, was earned little by little, and not in one step.


    Anyway, a few weeks before Minecraft Remastered''s launch, it immediately rocked the tech world and left the gamers hyped to the limit. If there was one thing that Joe was a master in, then it would be backhanded marketing strategies. Could it still be called backhanded if he was adept at manipulating social media algorithms? In marketing, anything was fair game. What mattered were the positive results and nothing else. YouTube, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter¡ª These platforms were connected to billions of users and if you also factored in the influencers, boom, the exposition would be so efficient.


    You would be surprised by how much power the media has. Grasp it and you''d be like a king, easily manipulating a large percentage of the world''s population.


    In the history of this world''s stagnating gaming culture, there has never been a world-changing game like Minecraft that made you feel like an internet god. You could build anything, play the way you want, and just do whatever shit you think about.


    Within just two months of its launch, Minecraft Remastered became the fastest game ever to be named a contender for the Game of the Year award.


    Big Bang Studios, an upcoming gaming company, alerted the deeply established giants in the gaming industry like Sony, Microsoft, and Sega. To make it worse, the world finally found out that he was the genius behind Candy Crush Saga which was halfway to reaching one billion downloads in just a few months.


    Where did the man behind these bangers crop up from? Why now? And what was his endgame and next moves? But that''s something they couldn''t predict. The man behind Big Bang Studios was a wild card that couldn''t be bought even if when they offered him more money than the market value. As experienced businessmen in the gaming industry, they knew how to smell profit from light years away. And Joe''s identity as an independent indie game creator made him look like an easy target. Just how wrong could they get?


    With the patent rights and copyrights firmly in his grasp, who would dare challenge him?


    Week after week, Minecraft continued to generate millions in revenue, even after taxes and expenses. This staggering growth caught the attention of journalists and analysts, sparking discussions about Joe''s potential future on the Forbes list. However, what truly stood out to them was Joe''s innovative mind. If he maintained this relentless drive, anything seemed possible¡ªperhaps even giving Tony Stark, the most renowned billionaire, a run for his money.


    Back to the present, 20th December, 2010,


    New York City, Skyline Theatre.


    Inside the magnificent ballroom oozing with opulence and high nobility, various big wigs from famous tech companies and the gaming industry spiritedly interacted with each other. The fantastical prism lights from the glittering chandelier bathed the room with a mesmerizing glow amidst the ambiance provided by the soul-soothing jazz music playing in the background.


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    Joe silently stood far away from the crowd, a modest glass of champagne nestled between his fingers. He was dressed in a classic black tuxedo, smooth as silk and accentuating his masculine, tall frame. His usually messy black hair was now elegantly styled, bringing focus to his dreamy sapphire eyes that could captivate anyone present in the grand ballroom. Even if he didn''t want to admit it, it seems the surreptitious feminine glances on him won''t stop anytime soon.


    A thin smile, hidden by the rim of the champagne glass, formed on Joe''s lips as he felt sorry for the eager women who couldn''t hide their blatant desires.


    Well, there was a deterrent force beside him that repelled the foxy vixens away. It was a certain beautiful young woman who had insisted on accompanying him. The reason she gave was that she liked adventure. She wanted to experience the world of nobility and gain some aristocratic etiquette along the way. Joe had laughed it off and just allowed her to do whatever she wanted.


    There was no reason to deny her some fun.


    Gwen also didn''t fall behind in terms of grabbing the attention of others. She wore a glittering, champagne-colored gown with a daring neckline that highlighted her long, sunkissed blonde hair and immaculate back. The silver necklace on her graceful neck subtly shimmered under the warm glow of the overhead lights. Her pink lips were eye-catching tonight, subtly beautified by moderate nude lipstick.


    Gwen was simply killing it! Slaying left and right, and leaving corpses in her wake.


    Everything felt like a dream to Joe. In just a few months, he had gone from nothing to something. Who could believe that he was now dining with influential entrepreneurs and puppeteers of the tech world? In his previous life, he was just a commoner, nothing special except for his stunning looks. However, his current status is different. He was steadily growing toward what he envisioned. Earthly benefits were never satisfactory. He yearned for so much more as the world he was in offered endless possibilities just like the world of Minecraft.


    "What made you smile like that? Don''t you know it''s unfair?" Gwen suddenly questioned him, curiosity showing in her pale blue eyes.


    Joe inhaled the scented air of luxury and sighed emotionally. "Just thinking about my journey."


    He carefully put the empty champagne glass on the silver tray skillfully carried by a waiter. Joe then squarely gazed at Gwen and continued, " What do you mean by ''unfair''?"


    Gwen sighed helplessly before moving closer, effortlessly bridging the gap between them. Her natural fragrant scent wafted into Joe''s nose, making him feel lightheaded for a second.


    "See that chick, at your 3 O''clock? Don''t make it obvious," Gwen directed him with her eyes.


    Joe did the same, and his sapphire-blue eyes clashed with mischievous green ones that reminded him of a mysterious stray feline.


    The woman had long, flowing silver hair, reminiscent of enchanting moonlight. She wore a silky black dress with a high slit, exposing her long, strong legs and well-endowed figure. She exuded a high level of womanly confidence, evident in how most men couldn''t help but steal glances at her. Some even hovered around her like loyal puppets. Suddenly, the woman winked at him and smiled meaningfully. She then briefly studied Gwen, her smile fading in the process, before minding her own business.


    Gwen felt unsettled by the silent interaction, her unease growing. She already disliked the flirtatious woman, sensing something off about her, like a dark undercurrent just beneath the surface.


    "The way she smiled and winked at you... ew, do you know her?" Gwen''s nose wrinkled in distaste, her voice dripping with disbelief as she deeply furrowed her brows.


    Joe shook his head, his face expressionless. "I''ve never met her."


    Gwen narrowed her eyes in doubt. "Why do I suddenly feel tricked?"


    "Hmm, okay. Suit yourself," Joe said, dropping the topic. How could he not see that Gwen was jealous? No matter how hard she tried, she was never good at hiding her emotions.


    "Hmph!" Gwen pouted, her head turned to the side, making her look extremely adorable.


    A subtle smile played on his tantalizing lips, an interesting glint glowing inside his eyes.


    He mused softly, ''Well, well, I didn''t expect to see the cat strolling around. A cat without an owner is certainly a dangerous one. People are about to lose some valuables.''


    ''I hope you don''t make a mess, Miss Hardy.''


    As the lights in the room dimmed, the gaming award ceremony began. A tall, charismatic, bald middle-aged man ascended the high platform, his powerful and memorable voice greeting the audience. Behind him, the massive screen came to life, showcasing the nominated games, their visuals enhanced by the melodious symphony playing in the background.


    Joe didn''t know what awards Minecraft was going to take home. But he had a feeling that the game was going to give him outstanding results. And the most shocking thing in the history of the ceremony happened...


    Best Indie Game - Minecraft


    Other games...


    Best Creative Game - Minecraft


    Other games'' awards¡­


    Best uprising company - Big Bang Studios


    And finally...


    Game of the Year ¡ª Minecraft.


    The series of electrifying events culminated in thunderous applause as the spotlight fell on Joe Petersen, the rising star.


    Joe smiled inwardly, mentally pumping his fists as he walked onto the stage.


    The moment to rise and shine had arrived. After the emcee shook his hand and presented him with the award amidst the constant flash of cameras, Joe delivered a brief but heartfelt speech about his journey. He made sure to give credit where it was due, causing Gwen to blush and smile with satisfaction in her seat. As for Peter... well, there wasn''t much to say. He couldn''t attend¡ªhe needed his daily dose of ''herogasm''.


    At the end of his speech, Joe said a few words that left a lasting impact on the hearts of those present.


    "This is only an appetizer. The main dishes are still being cooked. Wait to be served!"


    He was a Michelin cook and like dough, the gaming industry was going to be molded to his own making. (A|N: Ah, let him cook)


    ***

 [50] Stem Cell Research, Natasha Romanoff

    5th March, 2011.


    As time flipped into the new year, the seasons changed again, with winter giving way to spring. The coldness of winter was replaced by the freshness and renewal of spring. There was hope in the air.


    This change signified many things happening around the globe. When we talk about freshness, innovation, and, well, hope, one person comes to mind: Joe Petersen. He is the ''young genius'' who remains the topic of most conversations almost everywhere.


    Joe was the storm that was approaching. He was the hurricane that the nosy, starving journalists needed to enhance his fame further.


    Well, it has almost been two months since the Game Awards ceremony. And with the crossing of that bridge, the gaming industry, as we know of, entered a new era. All because of one man whose unique, charming face has been gracing the front pages of the Vogue and Forbes magazines. Joe''s past also made people curious, wondering how he rose to prominence out of thin air. His modeling days took the limelight, further convincing the netizens of his capabilities.


    Joe had to use some restraint not to spread some of his previous world''s online brain rot like ''mog'' ''Mewtwo'' (pun intended), rizz, and all that ''cringe.'' TikTok didn''t exist in Marvel. He felt he had no legitimate reason to bring a negative techno shift to this world.


    In one of the tallest skyscrapers in New York, Joe gazed down at the city that never sleeps. His deep-set eyes were calm and thoughtful as if he was contemplating how to make his empire flourish even more. Contrary to that notion, he could forego all those mortal shackles just for extraordinariness. Why settle for being a human emperor when you can be more - Like a god emperor of mankind, of the universe, and beyond? There was so much to be unearthed in this fantastical world.


    "It''s not surprising the world and society are all about material gains and appearances," Joe looked at the magazine with a wry grin as his picture stared back at him. Shaking his head, he tossed the magazine on the table.


    "Well, I can''t deny that money makes life more convenient. But It''s not my life''s goal," Joe murmured, placing his palm on the transparent floor-to-ceiling glass.


    Everything anyone has ever gained in this world could be lost in a single snap. Riches and beauty were nothing in the face of the Infinity Gauntlet. But ultimate power... Ultimate power was. The power to resist the mechanizations of reality itself was something to strive for.


    "I don''t want such a future..." Joe clenched his hand into a fist and softly sighed.


    "Do you ever get bored with your existential musings, Joe?" A low, feminine voice wafted into his ears. Then, a realistic holographic figure of a young woman materialized beside him.


    Joe shot Minerva a meaningful side glance and replied, "It''s part of me. It''s always a reminder of my survival¡ªthat I still exist."


    "Well, you''re alive. That''s what matters to me. With your current abilities, there are very few in this world capable of harming you," Minerva said matter-of-factly.


    Joe chuckled, amused by Minerva''s naivety. "That''s... not funny, Minerva." He wiggled his index finger at her before clasping his hands behind his back.


    "That''s only on the surface. There''s so much that we don''t know about this world. Even with super intelligence, a person will never know everything. There are forces that even I''m afraid to talk about."


    "While I can run faster than the fastest car ever manufactured and even react to a bullet from a high-velocity rifle, I still can''t outrun a nuclear explosion."


    Minerva''s eyes sparkled with interest. "It''s true. Your top speed of Mach 5 has nothing over thermal radiation that travels nearly the speed of light."


    "Now I understand your concerns. You are still weak."


    Joe''s lips curled into a grin as he absorbed the jab aimed at his morale. "For now..."


    "I know. That''s what matters. We have the present to shape the future in whichever way we want," Minerva agreed.


    "So..." Joe turned and picked up the cup of lemonade from the polished mahogany desk. He sipped the chilled drink, savoring the tart and sweet flavor as it spread in his mouth.


    It was just what he needed to enjoy his spring evening.


    "Ah, how''s the cloning project on Island X going?" Joe blissfully sighed before asking Minerva.


    "At the end of this month, all the results will be on your table. But..." Minerva reported, her voice tinged with uncertainty at the end.


    "But what?" Joe paused his actions, arching his brows.


    "The supposed clones of those death soldiers will merely be hollow vessels without consciousness for guidance. We''re currently limited to only bodily reconstruction, organ, and tissue regrowth at the Life Creation R&D."


    "The living consciousness, or rather the soul, is difficult to replicate. You''ll be truly exceptional if you can create a fully functional human being like God."


    Joe shook his head in denial. "Don''t you know that''s pure blasphemy? You can''t just spout such heresy, Minerva."


    "The light of judgment won''t catch me," she lightly joked before thinking, ''I hope it isn''t otherwise, or I might have shot myself in the foot.''


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    ''If Ultron was a thing by now, you wouldn''t have been spared. The good thing is your current strength. You have become stronger.'' Joe silently pondered before his thoughts shifted to the problem Minerva had presented.


    The cloning project at the Life Creation R&D capitalized on his advanced knowledge and expertise in stem cell research. He had stolen a glance at God''s answer sheet and saw all the answers needed to recreate a fleshly container. The sad thing was that the answers were not a hundred percent straightforward, and that''s where his human mind encountered an insurmountable wall. The soul was a mysterious existence; its value was immeasurable.


    ''Better stick to genetic engineering. Even magic will find it difficult to create a soul.''


    ''On second thought, this is the Marvel Universe where a child can create a whole new world out of nothing, and many other strange occurrences happen daily. Let''s leave it at that.''


    Joe drank the chilled lemonade and returned the cup to the desk. He nonchalantly checked the time on his smartwatch out of habit and soundly exhaled.


    "For that consciousness problem, don''t worry much about it," Joe said confidently, his gaze drawn to the nimbus clouds and the abrupt rumble of thunder.


    "I already had a premeditated solution for that," he added.


    And guess what?


    It was the STEM chip from the movie Upgrade.


    The brain will always remain a complex mystery, and describing how it generates consciousness is challenging. Similarly, correlating consciousness with the soul is not straightforward. Even Minerva''s existence, while merely artificial¡ªa simulated replica of the real deal¡ªhas shown significant improvement in her level of sentience.


    "What''s the missing link to the puzzle, Joe?" Minerva curiously asked.


    "It''s something that will surely capture your interest," Joe replied, his voice tinged with mystery as lightning flashed, briefly illuminating his face.


    ''It seems a storm is brewing. The dawn of the banished Asgardian God is nigh.''


    Meanwhile, as the two planned their next steps, somewhere in Washington, D.C., the lenses focused on another character.


    Inside Director Nick Fury''s office, an exotic beauty with wild red hair, dressed in a tight-fitting black bodysuit, nodded absently as she scrolled through her phone. Her booted feet were lazily propped on the desk as she indulged in her leisure.


    "My spy senses keep telling me you''re not as simple as you seem, kid. But I''ve got to admit, you''re easy on the eye." Natasha Romanoff playfully clicked her tongue before smiling, her gaze subtly shifting toward the door. She had already sensed Fury''s presence.


    Director Fury arched his brows in surprise after spotting Natasha Romanoff, aka The Black Widow.


    "This is why I don''t trust even my own security, Romanoff," Fury gave her a stern stare before smiling.


    "So, what got you all toothy like that?" Fury asked as he settled on the primary seat behind the desk.


    Natasha dropped his legs down before answering, "The current hot topic among women."


    "I see. Joe Petersen. The man who appeared out of nowhere and swept the whole world on its feet," Fury slightly praised him.


    "A high school graduate from Midtown High, and also currently undertaking a major in Biochemistry at Empire State University."


    "Haven''t returned to school ever since he lost his mother." Fury had already compiled the information of any person of interest. Also, the instincts he had cultivated since Goose played ''eyeball snatcher'' with him told him the mother¡­ the law-abiding citizen known as Joe, would overturn the world. Fury just hoped it would be in a good way. One Tony Stark was already a pain in the neck to deal with.


    "It ain''t surprising that you''ve kept tabs on him even though you don''t plan on doing anything to him," Natasha showed a small smile as she leaned forward.


    "As long as he isn''t some two-faced psychopath. Like a wolf among oblivious sheep," Fury replied, his brows furrowed as he thought about something.


    "That boy isn''t of importance right now. I sense something dark approaching, Romanoff. I don''t know how long humanity''s got before aliens from Mars pay us a visit," He stated, a grave expression on his face.


    Natasha blankly stared at him, not knowing how to respond to that.


    "Did you find Dr. Banner''s location?" Fury asked, lacing his fingers on the desk.


    "Not yet. The doctor is pretty good at hiding."


    Fury shook his head. "Just keep on posting me."


    Then, Natasha removed a USB drive from her pocket and placed it on the table.


    "This is what I got from playing Stark''s secretary."


    Director Fury took the USB, briefly examined it, and put it in his inner coat.


    "Agent Barton was looking for you," he said, just as Natasha began to leave.


    "Oh? Okay, sir." She nodded and left.


    Fury leaned back in his seat, many thoughts swirling inside his shiny, bald head. The operation of the Avengers Initiative needed to be accelerated as the world was slowly descending into chaos.


    ***

 [51] Plans on graduation, Prototype Battle Training VR Helmet

    8th March, 2011, New York City.


    Prometheus Headquarters, Eighth Floor.


    Inside a spacious, high-tech room brimming with futuristic gadgets.


    "How was it? Do you feel disconnected from reality?" Joe asked, an amused smile playing on his lips. His eyes remained expectant of her reaction. He donned a white lab coat, giving him a hot and sophisticated appearance, reminiscent of something out of an erotica.


    Gwen gradually sat up from the makeshift bed and removed the futuristic helmet from her head. She lightly shook her head, making her mane of blonde hair tumble down freely.


    "Th-That was really really incredible!" Gwen exclaimed wildly, her eyes almost exploding in excitement and disbelief.


    "It was... It was fuckin'' out of this world," she stuttered, her unsettled mind still replaying what she had just experienced.


    Joe nodded to himself with a thoughtful expression on his face. ''It''s as expected. The prototype battle training VR helmet is still viable.''


    He cast a glance at the streams of statistics and data analysis on the elevated screen beside him. There was a simulated brain model representing Gwen''s real-time neural activity, and also her full vitals.


    Before jumping straight to ask Gwen about her experience in the simulated reality world, Joe decided to look into her well-being.


    "So you don''t feel any discomfort like the world is breaking down, little by little, like a Lego construct? Any vertigo or nausea?"


    A hidden sparkle shone in Gwen''s eyes and she immediately gazed down. Some of her frontal hair fell and hid half of her face.


    ''Let me see how you''ll react, boy,'' Gwen schemed delightfully, anticipating Joe''s reaction.


    "Hahaha!" She pretended to laugh hysterically like a madwoman. With her hair down like that, she seemed more like an imaginary ghost from a horror film.


    ''Maybe if I pretend to have awakened my second hidden personality because of the unforeseen malfunctioning of the system... I wonder what he''ll say about it.'' A secret, mischievous grin graced the corners of her pink lips.


    "I''ve awakened thanks to that virtual reality trip, haha." Gwen further exaggerated her theatrics like a possessed Ash from Evil Dead. She flawlessly altered her voice to a jarring high pitch.


    Joe looked down at her, his brows arched in ridicule and amusement. ''Why is she trying to replicate something from Evil Dead 2? For God''s sake, we only watched the movie like two days ago.''


    ''So she can be childish and a ''baka'' sometimes, huh? How cute.'' Joe chuckled internally.


    "Who are you?" Joe asked with feigned restlessness.


    "Who am I? I''m your little nightmare, the horror of your dreams!" Gwen cackled condescendingly.


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    "Gwen Stacy will now act as my vessel, forever suppressed under my willful shadows!"


    Joe''s lips twitched, impressed by Gwen''s delusional energy. Her power of delusions was top-tier, surpassing even the saintly Chuunibyo.


    "Wh-What? Bring Gwen back!" Joe wailed in a shocked, agitated voice. He would be lying to himself if he said he didn''t like this kind of cringe fun.


    Here they were, casually acting like a pair of deranged NPCs. Just how cool and random that was?


    "Keke, she''s forever gone. Now I''m the only sole owner of this vessel. With my descent, the world shall be mine!" Gwen screeched like a banshee.


    ''Now she really needs a psychiatrist. She''s too far off into her role.'' Joe pondered, pursing his lips. He had had enough of the play. He decided to shatter this wannabe evil spirit''s laughable dream.


    And the best way to do that? Do something that would surprise the hell out of everyone!


    Unhesitatingly, Joe moved and slightly pulled her head backward, exposing her confused face and graceful neck. Then, while she was still confused, he leaned down until their faces were inches apart. Joe lightly pecked the tip of her nose while she was disconcerted. Her ''possessed body'' stiffened at the warm, soft texture of his lips. Her heart missed a beat in that instance. Time itself seemed to have stagnated.


    "With that mini kiss, I presume the evil dual personality of yours is now exorcised." Joe gestured a quote with his fingers, his smirk intensifying even more.


    A small shade of pink gradually colored Gwen''s cheeks. She closed her eyes to hide her embarrassment.


    "The exorcism," she shyly commented, as she opened her eyes, "might as well be considered perfectly executed." That bastard''s unconventional move dazzled her.


    "What were you thinking in that hard head of yours to pull off that sneaky move?" Gwen questioned him.


    Joe chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. "Everybody needs some love, I guess. Even loveless evil spirits. I aim to spread positivity and love as much as I can." He spread his arms invitingly, like an angel of benevolence.


    How disgustingly pretentious!


    Gwen rolled her eyes and climbed off the bed.


    "Love, pfft? Even ghosts and evil spirits alike would cringe awfully if they heard your BS."


    "Love is the most powerful weapon in this world," Joe chivalrously explained, like a random Disney princess.


    Love Gu, Snow White''s kiss... Joe knew it all so well.


    "We both know love pales in comparison to fear. After all, it''s the strongest emotion a human can ever experience," Gwen rebutted, finding her words logical.


    Joe inclined his head slightly, acknowledging her point. He recalled a similar quote from one of the famous novels in his past life. (Maybe a little over-hyped. Yeah, LOTM, it''s you).


    "But I think opinions on that subject will always remain subjective. Everyone experiences these emotions differently."


    Gwen stepped closer and gently stabbed his chest, her upturned eyes gazing at him. "That''s very true. So... When will you return to school? The school feels bland without a smartass like you there."


    Joe sighed before he swiftly caught her hand without looking. He heard her gasp of surprise. However, his attention was on something else. It was her interesting small, frail hand. He could easily crush her hand with just a little forceful tug. It was a good thing that he could completely control his strength, Joe thought as he stared at her beautiful hand.


    ''Some women will always be interesting. Gwen''s one of them. But why I''m hesitating with her? Am I¡­ afraid?'' A trace of emotional weakness dimmed his eyes before fading.


    Their current relationship was still... vague. They were just sailing aimlessly, not knowing where the yacht would finally take them.


    "I''ll come back with you then, but not to learn. I''ll finish the whole curriculum and maybe publish my master''s paper." Joe gave her some hope and astonishment.


    "What? Are you for real? Do you truly plan on pulling a ''time skip'' to the graduation bits ahead of everyone?" Gwen narrowed her eyes, her brows furrowed.


    "Honestly, I''m being real. I know it will take a lot of convincing to the academic board of professors. I''ll just show them my competence," he declared, not bothered by the hurdles awaiting him.


    "Sigh, this is truly disheartening, ya know that, right?" She smiled self-deprecatingly.


    "Now I know that there''s a huge, distinctive line between normal geniuses and people like you."


    Joe gently patted her head, finding the action satisfying, as he comforted her. "Life''s a long journey. Take it step by step, unlike people like me who scramble for shortcuts."


    "Can you please stop with the sarcasm? It isn''t helping anyone." Gwen playfully head-butted his chest, out of slight jealousy.


    "Oh, are you jealous?"


    "Who''s jealous?"


    "Of course, it''s you. Who else?"


    "You are an enormous pile of horse shit."


    "Wow, tiger, I''m honored. We share the same energy."


    "I know." Gwen showed a small smile and gave him a brief hug before stepping back.


    "Now that the buzz about you and the gaming world has simmered down, do you plan to pull something into the academic world? I reckon the research you have compiled on reverse cell differentiation is going to make the scholars go crazy."


    "And this..." Her eyes gestured to the VR helmet. "... shows unimaginable profits. It''s going to be evolutionary."


    Joe joggled his head. "The timing isn''t right for that. While I''m always twenty steps ahead in my approach, the current world isn''t ready."


    Gwen lightly scoffed before nodding.


    "When will I have too much knowledge and suffer from it like you?" she murmured, pouting to herself.


    Joe showed a sorrowful expression, his eyes staring at the ceiling. "I wish I could share my intellectual gifts with you, Gwen."


    The blatant shamelessness in his voice snapped her back to the present, and something ticked on her temple. The frustration, the resentment¡ªit all flared up again, but she quickly smothered it, unwilling to let it ruin the moment. She would save her grievances for another time.


    For now, she would play along, keep smiling, and hope that one day, she''d find her own way to shine¡ªmaybe even alongside him, rather than under his umbrella.


    ***


    [Word Count 1485]

 [52] I Don鈥檛 Like Star Wars

    If somebody asked her if she was envious, even a tiny wee bit, of Joe''s monstrous levels of intellectual and financial growth, how would she have replied?


    Gwen knew very well that she wouldn''t have admitted her own inferiority. Instead, she would treat the question as ridiculous¡ªas a sword meant to drift them apart.


    She loved Joe and wished him immense success in his endeavors. However, she was only human. Even the best of friends, who are even closer than blood-related siblings, would sometimes have such moments. It wasn''t a schadenfreude situation, but...


    ''He is... He''s just moving so fast. I fear I might not catch up to him in this lifetime. I want to try harder¡­ for him... For us.'' Gwen''s thoughts spiraled into their strange relationship. It was damn frustrating. It left a bitter taste on her palate.


    ''Maybe I''m the one lacking the initiative?''


    ''... Or it''s just a matter of pride of who admits it first?''


    ''Ugh, I can''t stop overthinking when this bastard keeps sending me mixed signals. The problem is, I don''t know what he''s always thinking.''


    It was all nonsensical and complicated for her. After all, Joe was the first man she had ever had such feelings for¡ªfeelings that she didn''t know how to cope with.


    Joe always had this wall, this seemingly impenetrable bubble around him, that made him separated from reality. Maybe after Veronica died, his heart was even more closed off, inaccessible to other people. There was something different about him.


    ''Of course, he has always been different. He''s changed now, somehow. I-'' Joe''s concerned voice suddenly interrupted Gwen''s musings as he waved his hand in front of her face.


    "Hello. Earth to Stacy."


    "S-sorry about that. I didn''t realize that I was spacing out," she sighed an apology and gently rubbed her temples.


    "Are you sure it''s not the helmet?" Joe inquired, oblivious to Gwen''s true thoughts.


    "It''s nothing like that. Something silly just cropped up in my head. Don''t sweat it," Gwen replied with certainty, dismissing the topic.


    "Um, okay." Joe arched his brows, finding her odd in that split second, but didn''t press her.


    There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment. Joe continued observing Gwen while Gwen kept on fiddling with her fingers. She looked anywhere but him. She felt embarrassed and shameful facing him right now.


    Finally, Gwen turned her attention to her watch¡ªThe perfect excuse to escape.


    "Oh, shoot. I forgot there''s somewhere I need to be. Um, call me when you come to school, okay?" Gwen quickly patted his shoulder before fast-walking to the exit, leaving Joe with a dumbfounded expression. If she stayed, she feared she would second-guess her decision.


    "Hell, what was that?" Joe asked himself, not sure where to get the answer from. The mood was just all over the place. He recalled the moment Gwen''s lost expression had briefly shown, failing to connect it to their initial interaction. Hadn''t they been all buddy-buddy and playful a few moments ago?


    ''Her emotions shifted when she was daydreaming. Hmm...'' Joe rubbed his chin as he slowly contemplated.


    ''Is it something I said?''


    Something clicked inside his mind and he groaned loudly, clearly frustrated by himself.


    "So it was that. For a brainiac like me, how could I be that dumb?" Joe furiously ruffled his hair.


    "I thought it was a harmless joke, but now, it doesn''t really seem like that."


    Joe sighed after calming down. He had already recognized his mistake and understood what might have triggered Gwen. He just wished she wasn''t the overthinking type, but unfortunately, she was. The milk had already been spilled, and he knew he had to make it up to her.


    "Lately, she has been quite the restless one, hasn''t she? I just wanted you to be you, fool." Joe palmed his forehead and clicked his tongue.


    "Setting Gwen''s issue aside, there''s something I need to do right now." Joe glanced at the prototype virtual reality helmet, designed for training people in combat scenarios. It was a different version of the Nerve Gear from Sword Art Online. If he wanted to make battle training more immersive and realistic¡ªreplicating the five senses and full mobility¡ªhe had to think bigger.


    Maybe something like the Danger Room from the X-Mansion. The Danger Room, huh?


    His sapphire blue eyes shone in realization. "Hard light technology."


    "Hmm, I can''t recall the specific alien technology Dr. Hank McCoy used to create the impressive Danger Room. It''s still an interesting concept, nonetheless."


    The Danger Room was where the X-Men trained themselves and promising young mutants. It could simulate sentinels¡ªthe evolving mutant-killing machines created by Bolivar Trask¡ªor any extreme environment. Joe just had to do something simple to accomplish such a feat: program everything to his liking. What he envisioned would be even more powerful if he added a touch of magical arts.


    "Pfft, at the moment, that''s just wishful thinking," he sneered before sitting behind his desk.


    "It''s time to write a research paper and build my credentials before I pay Biochemistry''s advisor, Dr. Curtis Connors, a visit," Joe donned a small grin.


    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    Before his unfortunate academic leave, Joe had been quite familiar with Professor Connors. Their class had few students, so the professor knew everyone. Joe remembered how Dr. Connors often challenged him with difficult questions about regenerative biology whenever he was caught daydreaming. The previous Joe had only a basic understanding, but the current Joe was far from mediocre. The catch was that he took drugs to become something akin to Dr. Doofenshmirtz or Walmart Rick Sanchez.


    "But I''m not as unsuccessful as him in my experiments. Our ratios are quite different. He gets his charm from that. Dr. Doofenshmirtz would be unstoppable if he harvested some of the plot aura from Ferb."


    Joe chuckled as the brightness of the monitor illuminated his face.


    Tap! Tap!


    He began typing everything he knew about his research on stem cells and how to reverse differentiation. Joe chose stem cells because it was still a speculative field of research in this foreign universe. He was currently investing in a cloning experiment that he derived from the stem cell research he was documenting. This research paper could easily secure him a guaranteed master''s degree if he had been a postgraduate student.


    It took him only thirty minutes to type everything in the correct format.


    Joe skimmed the document and nodded in satisfaction. "I have emitted anything important to keep the plagiarists and research stealers at bay. There''s no need to file a patent for an unfinished product, but... it''s still my product." A shrewd glint sparkled in his eyes.


    They will be helpless if they try replicating my research, but who can say they won''t get a spark of inspiration from me?


    "Well, it''s better to be safe than sorry. Overconfidence won''t get me anywhere." Joe reminded himself.


    "Very true." A beautiful holographic figure flickered next to him.


    "You''re always watching and listening, aren''t you?" Joe glanced at Minerva.


    "I''m virtually everywhere. What can I do about it?" Minerva helplessly shrugged and flashed her pixelated white teeth at him.


    "Okay. So what do you have for me? Are the clones viable for phase II?" He mildly questioned her.


    "I came to report exactly that," Minerva replied with a nod, a childish pout on her mouth.


    "I''ve also dealt with the deluded AI called STEM," she added.


    "What fate did it face? I reckon it''s quite a stubborn one," Joe released a short laugh.


    "I devoured it. I found its source code delicious. It had protected itself with multiple code obfuscation layers, but all was futile despite its struggles to counter-devour me," Minerva explained, her voice as cold as a block of ice.


    "It isn''t a surprise. You''re so into MK''s brutality," Joe whistled softly.


    "So that means?"


    "Through the stem chip, I have incorporated smaller variations of myself into each clone. I can easily remotely control any one of them as if I were living through them."


    "Honestly, it''s a super weird feeling."


    Joe listened attentively, impressed by her efficiency.


    "Those are the first products. Let''s see how they will manage the numerous training sessions I''ve prepared for them."


    "Leave it to me, Joe."


    "Okay, however, I''ll oversee it."


    "Affirmative."


    Minerva stared at the research on the screen before asking, "Should I book an appointment with a patent attorney for you?"


    "I see no reason not to."


    "I''ve already found one. She calls herself Jennifer Walters. She''s currently operating a private firm."


    Joe rolled his eyes, feeling the coincidence to be too absurd. ''The soon-to-be She-Hulk after Infinity War and End Game.''


    "She''s an excellent attorney," Minerva urged, amused by Joe''s apparent reaction.


    "Stop that..." Joe pointed to her. He then admitted, "I know she''s good."


    "Schedule a meeting before I submit my research."


    Honestly speaking, Joe didn''t want anything to do with Jennifer Walters. However, her future She-Hulk form was something else.


    "I call dibs on the Hulk Smash! I probably would." Joe chuckled to himself, finding the meme adult-rated.


    "What''s so funny?" Minerva leaned closer to his face, unfazed by the proximity, knowing she couldn''t directly interact with physical matter.


    "I don''t like Star Wars."


    "No!" Minerva''s expression fell when she heard such atrocious blasphemy. The room immediately went into lockdown and red alarms began blaring.


    Joe laughed at her overreaction¡ªit was both cute and ridiculous. It took him a few minutes to explain his joke and calm her down. Afterward, she disengaged the lockdown and silenced the alarms on Joe''s orders.


    After that, Joe eventually left for Empire State University to seek out Dr. Connors, wondering what the professor might ask in return for helping him accelerate his graduation. After all, the world was all about mutual benefits¡ªnothing was ever free unless you were as incredibly lucky as Domino.


    ***


    [Word Count 1651]

 [53] Connors Formula

    Empire State University.


    Dr. Curtis Connors Office.


    The late afternoon light squeezed past the black blinds, giving the dimly lit office some radiance.


    Rows of small shelves filled with archaic tomes stood on both sides of the black wooden desk. Papers and opened books were scattered chaotically across the desk''s surface, vividly encapsulating the scholarly nature of the office owner.


    The whiteboard behind the desk was covered with roughly scribbled strings of fantastical equations and incomplete formulas. Some sections of the creamy walls weren''t spared from the blue marker''s pointy assault.


    This messy outlook embodied Dr. Curtis Connors'' frustrations as he continuously rubbed his throbbing temples. He sat over his untidy desk, his eyes obsessively staring at his lifelong research on the 24-inch monitor.


    But what was the point of obsession if he couldn''t achieve his goals? Dr. Connors was slowly sinking into the abyss. Without a breakthrough, he feared he might go mad.


    How long? How long has he researched the uniqueness of Class Reptilia, especially the miraculous limb regeneration exhibited by the lizards? Dr. Connors didn''t care to count. After losing half of his arm during his time as a military surgeon in the US Army, he focused all of his hopes on resolving his crippled status via his research. No, he wasn''t a cripple. That''s how he had always reminded himself. A scientist was never a cripple if they still have an intact mind to come up with a solution. Defects were meant to be corrected, just like how he sought after the key to regenerative biology, day in and day out.


    "What''s the missing link to unify this flawed equation? Why are all my calculations leading to dead ends? Am I pursuing something unachievable? No, no, science always has a way," Dr. Connors mumbled in a low voice as he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the headache that threatened to overtake him. Then he sighed in exasperation before removing his round glasses and placing them over the cluttered papers.


    "Each human genome is genetically expressed differently from the reptilian genes. While the two DNAs can easily undergo hybridization through the incomplete Connor''s formula, the stability is short-lived and collapses after a few seconds."


    "I seek permanence, not some cheap thrills," he angrily gritted his teeth before sweeping away some papers off the desk.


    "Who will show me God''s equation? I reject inferiority!" Dr. Connors'' voice trembled with emotions as he glanced at his crippled arm.


    ***


    When Joe arrived outside the magnificent gates of Empire State University, a wave of nostalgia washed over him. The familiar modern architecture of the towering buildings with stained glass windows greeted him the moment he walked past the gates. Everything looked the way he remembered as he inspected the surroundings.


    Joe inhaled the calming scent of freshly mowed grass and pruned bushes. There was an evident vibrant energy in the university''s atmosphere as numerous students chattered and laughed as they discussed whatever they were discussing. Some students walked in a hurry for their afternoon classes, perfectly knowing they were late.


    ''Why do I feel detached from all of this? This past?'' he wondered, his figure receiving several curious glances from his fellow students. Wait, could he still be considered a student? Yes. You could still be considered a student as long as you were learning anything new each day. Even a teacher had much more things to learn. Knowledge had no definite end.


    As Joe observed the students, their laughter and hurried footsteps seemed distant, almost trivial. He couldn''t help but imagine the chaos that would ensue if they knew the extent of his knowledge¡ªa knowledge that would make their four years here feel like a futile exercise.


    ''Anyway, there''s no reason to compare myself to those lesser than me considering my tremendous advantage. It ain''t fun,'' Joe pondered, a small grin tugging at the corners of his lips.


    From his peripheral vision, he noticed a group of students pointing at him while whispering amongst themselves. Most of them were women as they began swarming toward him with star-struck eyes.


    "Ugh, sometimes I hate being a famous idol. My cursed looks and the adoration they show me..." Joe''s smile wavered as he observed those people moving in slow motion. His temporal perception had massively strengthened after being exposed to small traces of quantum energy. Another factor was his reaction speed. When you can perfectly move beyond supersonic at your maximum limit, you can selectively choose how you interact with your environment. That''s why Joe always chose to turn off some aspects of his superhuman senses.


    Before those mad fans could devour him and waste his time, Joe escaped into the campus building. Of course, he didn''t use any powers. It was too risky; too many eyes were watching. He had to meet Dr. Connors, just as he had previously intended.


    ***


    While Dr. Connors was lost in endless thoughts, a gentle yet audible knock sounded at the door. He was jolted from his musings and returned to the present.


    ''Who could it be?'' he arched his brows in confusion. He alternated his gaze between the door and the cluttered mess on his desk. ''I can''t tidy up now. I hope they overlook this mess.'' This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Connors hurriedly picked up the fallen A4 papers on the ground and piled them onto the desk.


    "Come in," Dr. Connors called out as he tried to find a comfortable posture in his seat.


    The door finally creaked open, and a face which he hadn''t seen for over ten months came into view.


    Dr. Connors narrowed his eyes, thinking maybe he had suddenly been afflicted by macular degeneration.


    Returning his glasses to his face, Dr. Connors asked in a surprised tone. "Petersen, is that you?"


    The young man in front of him differed from the boy he knew several months ago. He had an imposing presence and a remarkable aura of confidence. His sapphire blue eyes were clear, like pools of mystical waters. It was as if he could see through the essence of any phenomenon, be it a human or the toughest mathematical equation.


    It was a ridiculous thought, even for someone like him, a revered scientist proficient in genetics and biochemistry.


    "Hello, Professor Connors. It''s me, Joe Petersen," Joe introduced himself, secretly amused by his totally justified reaction. He had truly changed - not just physically, but also aura-wise.


    "Oh, Petersen. You surprised me because you somehow seem different after not seeing you for a while," Dr. Connors said, his expression softening before he motioned Joe to enter and take a seat.


    "Thanks."


    Joe nodded and closed the door behind him. In just a second, his eyes scanned everything in the room. The poor handwriting scribbled over the whiteboard, a section of the wall, and the papers captured his attention. The rough mathematical equations and incomplete biochemical expressions immediately gave him an idea about the doctor''s research.


    Joe smiled inwardly as he took his seat.


    "How have you been, Petersen? Sorry about your mother. It must have been hard on you." Dr. Connors leaned forward, a sympathetic expression on his face.


    With a resolute look on his face, Joe replied. "It was the hardest time of my life. However, I somehow managed to pull through it. Life goes on even as the memories remain."


    "Very true. It''s saddening because that''s the dark fate of us humans," Dr. Connors agreed as he leaned back in his seat.


    "So, to what do I owe your presence? Because of your leave of absence, you''re now a year behind your peers."


    "That''s what I came for. I came to graduate early," Joe declared, a confident smile playing on his lips.


    "W-What?" Connors heavily furrowed his brows, shock traveling through his body.


    "I want to graduate early. During my absence, I covered a lot of things and contemplated the direction my life will take," Joe responded, strongly emphasizing his claim.


    Connors studied him for a few moments as if looking for the ultimate decision. He would be lying if he said his certainty didn''t infect him. It was an intriguing


    Connors already knew about Joe''s recent worldwide fame in game development. It was an achievement that put him above his peers. He was miles ahead in the societal standings.


    It was only due to those reasons that Connors thought it was worth giving it a try. Maybe his genius in game development could be replicated in a gruesome field, like biochemistry.


    "I hope you''re not joking. If you want to graduate earlier, you have to be truly exceptional and extremely brilliant. There are a lot of steps you can take to convince everyone you are worthy of an early graduation."


    "I''m going to give you a graduate-level exam. Do you mind?"


    Connors fixed his glasses before opening his drawer and retrieving a thick bundle of examination papers. He sneaked a glance at him to gauge his reaction. However, Joe''s expression never faltered. In fact, his eyes looked hungry for those graduate-level exams.


    The hardest exam? Nah, he had the ultimate skill [Megamind].


    "Ready when you are, Professor."


    After Joe received the exam, he meticulously wrote his name and enrollment number. He wasn''t as impatient as his past self. When he had been in Midtown High, he had cultivated a small habit of failing to include his name on the exam paper. As he reminisced about the past, perfectly organized information on advanced biochemistry and molecular biology appeared in his mind.


    It only took him fifty minutes to scribble down overly detailed answers to the complex essays that could make grad students surrender. If that wasn''t enough, Joe also wrote several alternative answers since he could. It was a frightening scene.


    "I''m done." Joe returned the neatly arranged papers to the professor.


    Connors curbed his surprise and began examining the answers, especially those tied to the most troublesome questions in the test.


    "Petersen, t-this..." Connors stammered, a clear look of astonishment plastered on his face.


    "This is a perfect score. You''ve even written alternative solutions, showing a two-way approach toward a question!" He exclaimed.


    Joe grinned, the outcome as inevitable as his smile suggested.


    "This incredible achievement certainly deserves recognition."


    ''Go on.''


    "I''ll speak to the board and convince them about your capabilities. Prepare to be tested even more. You might even be asked for an original research paper. The academic board of professors has the qualifications to be that demanding."


    ''I''ve done it.'' Joe fisted his hand under the desk.


    After that, the two began having an in-depth discussion about real-world issues revolving around Biochemistry. Dr. Connors was amazed by Joe''s genius, which further elevated his status in his eyes.


    "By the way, professor, I have read your papers on herpetology and regenerative medicine. I was deeply impressed by the thought-provoking, cross-species module you included," Joe casually mentioned, intending to make Dr. Connors share his research willingly since he had already established a level of trust.


    It was due to this fact that he dared. Among scientists, it was taboo to ask them directly to share their research. Joe had to be tactical. While his research on stem cells was great, it didn''t fall behind Connor''s obsession with limb regeneration. If Connor''s formula were perfected, it would be more valuable than even stem cell technology.


    "Oh, you also read about that?" Connors raised his brow while smiling, feeling some pride that his research was recognized.


    "Yeah. But I think something is missing, right? Just like how two different spatial regions can be connected via an Eisen-Rosen bridge, your Connor''s formula lacks a stable link¡ªa connection," Joe vaguely spoke, garnering even more curiosity from the professor.


    Joe knew he had already led the professor to where he wanted him to be by using his obsession.


    Connors'' heart nearly missed a beat because of Joe''s monstrous analysis, which was on-point. Just from little details of his research, he had already concluded that his formula was flawed. Maybe Joe was just what he needed to realize the full potential of his dream.


    "Do you know... Do you know how to inhibit the collapse of the two genomes? How can I tame the lizard genes from overpowering the human ones? What do I need to balance them?" Connors desperately asked as he leaned forward in anticipation.


    Connors had a feeling that Joe knew something. Even if it was just a little, it could still lessen his current dilemma. He needed that spark of inspiration.


    "Mad science problems require mad science solutions," Joe lightly stated in a tone full of mystery. He then took a blank paper and a pen. He began sketching a few organic structures, chemical formulas, reversible reactions, mathematical equations, and finally, the Decay Rate Algorithm.


    Those simple actions almost made Connors jump from his seat with impatience.


    "Professor, this is what you''re looking for. The source code to limb regeneration," Joe said in a nonchalant tone as he presented the paper.


    "Rejoice aplenty."


    With trembling hands, Connors received it, treating the fresh formula as the most precious thing in the world.


    "Is this... the ultimate link?" Connors skimmed through the formula, his mind going into overdrive.


    Joe nodded in reassurance.


    ''If this decay rate algorithm is as powerful as he claims, then... won''t I be able to regrow my lost arm?'' Connors'' mind was in a state of chaos as he experienced various emotions in one moment.


    There was hope.


    "This is too valuable, Petersen. How can I repay you?"


    "There''s no need for that. I think you''ve already repaid me by recommending to the board for my graduation request."


    "That''s so little compared to your help."


    Joe waved his hand. "Professor, I''ve already made my decision."


    ''Your Connor''s Formula is now inside my mental library. If I perfect it and re-create the serum...'' he restrained his inner excitement.


    ''Sorry doc, the decay rate algorithm is indeed the connection you''ve been looking for. However, it''s still a temporary solution if you get impatient.''


    After the Professor vehemently declared that Joe would be treated as a special case, Joe eventually bid his goodbyes while in a jovial mood.


    No, both parties ended up satisfied. As for Dr. Connors'' fate, Joe had no comments toward that.


    Wasn''t fate always in your hands or something like that? Only Connors could determine his own outcome.


    ***


    [Word Count 2407]

 [54] Flawed Decay Rate Algorithm

    Just a Quick Note: I don''t own any of the characters, worlds, or universes mentioned here (aside from a few original characters). They all belong to their respective creators and companies.


    This is a work of fiction, created simply for fun and maybe a bit of inspiration. No offense or infringement intended.


    ***


    Connors intensely stared at the decay rate algorithm, his mind swarming with equation derivatives. Previously, he had tried every biochemical combination, every permutation, yet the correct answer always eluded him.


    As much as he would have liked to trust in the genius of Joe Petersen, what he had offered him was too good not to have a caveat.


    Those were his honest feelings deep down in his heart. However, at the end of the day, his obsession with regenerating his entire arm superseded his thoughtfulness.


    With an almost perfect solution freely presented to him, Connors felt his impatience was justified.


    Reclining in his seat, Connors released a deep sigh, the crazed zeal in his eyes clearing a bit.


    "God, I hope this works. The pressure I''ve been getting from Norman is enough to drive me into depression." An annoyed expression crossed his face as he absentmindedly touched his amputated arm.


    "His desire to save himself from his own genetic deterioration increases day by day. If I don''t show promising results¡­" Connors slowly contemplated. His fate was hanging on a balance and his future at Oscorp was ultimately decided by corporate judgment. Failure to produce substantial results that can be commercialized wouldn''t bode well for a scientist like him. A dying man like Norman Osborn was the most unpredictable and dangerous.


    "Phew~" Connors spontaneously gazed at the ceiling, the dim light of the overhead bulb subtly reflected on his glasses.


    He then picked up the sheet of paper containing the precious formula and placed it close to his face. "I should prepare for experimentation and observe the results born from the formula''s addition."


    "There''s so much to do and I don''t know how long it will take to finalize the experimental data."


    Connors stood up and carefully filed the formula with his secret research notes. He placed the thick file in his laptop bag and zipped it tightly.


    Looking at his monitor, Connors quickly saved and uploaded his work to his cloud. After shutting his computer, he momentarily glanced at his incomprehensible handwriting on the whiteboard.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    He couldn''t leave it like that. He took a duster and wiped everything. As for the papers on the ground, they weren''t as important as what had been written on the board. That was Connors'' sound decision.


    ***


    Meanwhile, as Dr. Connors hurried to begin his experiments now that he had found a stable pathway, Joe casually walked through a secluded hallway on the other side of the campus.


    A subtle grin played on his face as he reminisced about the past, especially this hallway that he had marked as his own special territory. Of course, it was what the past Joe liked to imagine. The campus was a public space, so there was nothing that he exclusively owned.


    ''Very few people venture into this part, so it wouldn''t be easy to be spotted by the insane fans and paparazzi.'' Joe analyzed before his mind shifted to the decay rate algorithm he had written to aid Dr. Connors in his cross-species research.


    This formula was created by Richard Parker - Peter''s dad ¡ª when he was a scientist at Oscorp. While Connors was interested in Class Reptilia, Richard Parker''s research was centered on arachnids, especially the spider. Richard Parker''s work on cross-species interaction between man and spider could be considered nothing short of a miracle. If his research managed to enter the medical world and healthcare system, many physical ailments would have been solved.


    However, that''s where the problem lies. The corporate hegemons behind Oscorp wanted to monopolize his research for their own greed and benefit. For these men and women of power, their only language was eternal profits and commercial success.


    They didn''t care about the grandeur of saving the world if they couldn''t monopolize the shit out of Richard''s research.


    Richard, on the other hand, walked the righteous path. He was wise enough to tamper with¡ªor more accurately, modify his formula at the genetic level using the Parker genes. This meant that the decay rate algorithm would only work perfectly with someone of Richard''s bloodline. His foresight was truly incredible, and only he knew this vital information. Everyone else remained oblivious.


    Despite this seemingly unexpected maneuver, Richard Parker and his wife were done in by an ''accidental'' plane crash when they were on the run from Oscorp. Deemed useless by the corporation, his fate was sealed. If they couldn''t use him, destroying him was also an option.


    "Power - such a seductively simple thing. Either you have it all or you have nothing," Joe murmured, a mirthless smile etched on his lips.


    If Richard Parker had possessed the power to defend his honor and life, he might have narrowly survived Oscorp''s schemes. But, unfortunately, he lacked the strength to fully safeguard his legacy. He was, after all, just a simple man. The authority wielded by an influential corporation like Oscorp was not to be underestimated.


    At the end of it all, the decay rate algorithm Joe had given Dr. Connors was flawed. However, the flaw will be a major oversight if the doctor impatiently rushes for results.


    The world operated on the basis of equivalent exchange. Even though Joe had given much in the exchange, the devil''s deals were always twisted. He hadn''t been truly upfront with Dr. Connors, an innocent man with a dark fate. There was something else he wanted to observe from Connors.


    ''Let''s call it an outsider''s perspective. What path will his fate take? What choices will he make? Will anything change at all?'' A torrent of questions flooded his mind.


    "Oh, Gwen made me promise to call her if I came to campus. I can''t forget about that," Joe sighed, knowing that if he didn''t call or text her, he could get grey-ticked in real life.


    Joe sank his hands into his pockets and pulled out his phone. He unlocked it and scrolled to Gwen''s name on the favorites. Her profile picture was there with a goofy smile directed at him. He chuckled softly, shaking his head before calling her.


    Beep!


    The phone rang for some time before it went to voicemail. "Hi, it''s Gwen. Please leave a message. Talk later."


    Joe arched his brows, both worried and annoyed he couldn''t reach her. ''Maybe she''s in class or somewhere she can''t pick up my call. I hope she didn''t deliberately ignore me.''


    ''But... Whatever.'' Joe shook the matter off his head. He wasn''t entitled to everything. Gwen had her own life to deal with. Missing one phone call wasn''t the end of the world. Joe felt he had to be understanding of everyone around him as much as he liked keeping control over everything in his life.


    "Just checking up on you." Joe left her message and pocketed his phone.


    "Now then..." Joe glanced at his watch and nodded to himself. "Let''s see if Pete has completed my task."


    As the current head of R&D, Peter had to show him, the CEO of the nascent pharmaceutical company, something promising.


    Joe tested him on finding a cure for influenza. He wanted to gauge his research intelligence and practicality. After all, Peter was one of the smartest people in the Marvel Universe.


    ***


    [Word Count 1251]

 [55] I Can鈥檛 Stop

    The late afternoon sunlight shone over his face the moment he stepped outside. The mysterious blues of his eyes twinkled like starry gems when they reflected the light.


    Joe looked at the sky, his eyes unflinching in the face of the sun''s radiance. The dark gray clouds were scattered, partly obscuring the sun''s brilliance. His face bloomed into a rare smile as the spring breeze brushed against him.


    ''It''s a good day to be alive. I can''t believe I get to enjoy such simple things in life in such a cruel, unforgiving universe.'' Joe sighed deeply, his peripheral vision surveilling everything around him.


    The coast was clear for now. He would probably be delayed if he wasted time on the university grounds enjoying the scenery.


    "Well, I guess it''s hero time," Joe mused, glancing at his oh-so-simple watch. There was nothing extraordinary about it. It was just an ol'' plain-looking wristwatch. And don''t be deluded, it wasn''t the Omnitrix in disguise. That would have been cool and so fucking dope.


    Joe knew the Omnitrix alone would have effortlessly pushed him into the universal-tier list undebated. With a celestialsapien capable of pulling a Chrollo pose, reality might as well be his bitch. Just imagine being the genie with unlimited wishes.


    ''That''s out of topic. I''ll have to make do with what I have. That fantasy is out of reach¡­ temporarily.''


    "I guess it''s Translucent time," Joe smirked, tapping the watch''s screen before pressing the side button. Immediately, the watch began restructuring. Small nanoparticles spread over his form, causing the fabric of his clothes to turn invisible. Soon, his whole body disappeared from the visible spectrum.


    The watch was something he had created in his spare time during those past months. Joe''s source of inspiration had been the cloaking tech used by the Wakandans and a simple dismantling session of the Predator Killer armguard. It was a compressed suit among a few that he had in his arsenal. Joe dubbed it the ''Spectral Shade.'' And in no way was he referencing the movie, Spectre, or the embodiment of the Presence''s wrath. He had resisted calling it ''The Spectre''.


    ''Using pym particles in these types of situations is an overkill.'' Joe mused as he started his journey to Forest Hills.


    ''You think I''m crazy, right? You''re not exactly wrong. I''m going to run.'' Joe looked to the side, his invisible ass addressing no one in particular.


    He assumed a sprinting stance, and then¡ªboom¡ªhe catapulted into another realm: the domain of speedsters. The starting ground caved in under the impact of his instantaneous speed burst, leaving a small-sized crater. Thank the gods, he controlled himself. However, the sonic boom couldn''t be easily mitigated. It rendered everyone in the campus vicinity deaf for a moment.


    Moments later, as the stunned onlookers struggled to regain their hearing, a fighter jet thundered above New York, its roar eerily synchronized with Joe''s departure. The coincidence was lost on the crowd, but it was a fitting accompaniment to his explosive exit.


    Meanwhile, the world around him seemed to freeze, with every action crawling at a painfully slow pace.


    ''I can''t stop. I can''t stop. Woo!'' Joe screamed in his mind, reveling in the exhilarating rush of speed. In that fleeting moment, nothing else mattered¡ªnot the sprawling campus around him, nor the lingering worries of daily life¡ªjust the pure, intoxicating thrill of velocity.


    Speed was all that mattered. He was¡­ speed!


    ''Makkari, hold my beer,'' Joe thought, casually coming up with the joke of the year.


    He knew damn well he was a child in the speed department.


    Anyway, the city will never know of the invisible speedster.


    Not even a blur.


    ***


    Five Seconds Later.


    Forest Hills.


    SHWAAH!


    Wind whipped around Joe as he stopped in front of the warehouse.


    He looked at his feet, feeling the illusory frictional heat warming his soles. It would have been funny if he had his shoes and clothes erased by the friction and pressure bombardment.


    ''Should I play with him a little bit?'' Joe mischievously grinned, imagining how Peter would react to an unseen entity.


    ''Bro better be ready for some Amityville shenanigans.''


    Joe realized that being invisible was more of a gimmick at this point. He could still move fast enough to avoid being seen by the average person. However, it was safer to err on the side of caution. This world was teeming with hidden superhumans, even if they were a minority. While he couldn''t exactly pinpoint where they were located, one thing was certain: they were everywhere. Beyond the superhumans, cameras could also unintentionally capture supernatural events.


    Before the events of the Chitauri Invasion happen, Joe will dutifully continue practicing the art of restraint.


    It wasn''t the time to show off. He wasn''t Tony who could make it seem so effortless. The man was a legend. And even if he wanted the universe to know his existence, it wouldn''t be under his real identity. Joe Petersen would remain the ambitious, innovative young genius.


    ''I haven''t even thought about my codename. Damn, that''s the problem with getting powers,'' Joe mused. ''Still, if I want to protect my interests, I''ll need to get involved one way or another. Joe Petersen has to become influential ¡ª rich enough to rival nations. Let''s aim for the net worth of Wakanda.''


    Shaking the ambitious thoughts from his mind, Joe stepped into the warehouse.


    Being the owner of the warehouse, Joe knew every path inside. It was like a rather tamed maze, modeled by him. Anyone with a pretty sharp memory could navigate the labyrinth with less difficulty.


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    Joe easily found Peter in the integrated research laboratory that hosted both virology and immunology tests.


    The familiar smell of the chemicals like formalin assaulted his nose. The soft whirring of the sophisticated laboratory machines filled his ears with nostalgia.


    It has been a while since he stepped into this particular warehouse.


    Joe spotted the young man slouched in the office chair, his head tilted back as he snored loudly. A string of saliva dangled from the corner of his lips.


    Amidst a cluttered workbench with revolting Petri dishes, and half-filled test tubes of different colors, Peter didn''t seem to worry about the world as he peacefully dozed off.


    Joe arched his brows, amazed by his capability to coexist with the concentrated sterile stench in the air.


    While it didn''t affect him since he was currently ''biologically superior'', it still reminded him of that day he spent traumatized in a hospital.


    ''Ah, memories... Now it''s just me, myself and I, not the hospital anymore. I''m immune to diseases. Now then...'' Joe lowered his head, an evil smirk radiating from his face.


    ''What should I do with you? Of course, since you''re my bro, a ''harmless prank'' will do.''


    Joe grabbed a random test tube rack filled with empty tubes and gave it a vigorous shake.


    CLANK!


    CLANK!


    The sound of glass cracking while hitting each other, jolted Peter fully awake, nearly making him fall off his seat. If it were not for his spidey reflexes, his whole body might have kissed the damp floor.


    There was a confused expression on his face that lasted for a few seconds before his unsettled eyes randomly scanned around.


    Failing to see anything out of place, Peter comically widened his eyes to wade off the lingering sleep.


    He then loudly yawned. "Okay, that was weird. Did those test tubes just... move? Or am I finally losing it?"


    "Um, it must have been an auditory hallucination maybe." He shrugged off the matter, attributing it to his sleep-deprived status.


    That''s what he thought. However, the next thing he heard was the same clanking of the glass tubes.


    Peter felt a chill run down his spine and almost jumped out of his seat. He was a science guy and never believed in ghosts except for Ghostbusters.


    ''Am I... in the middle of a paranormal event? Or is my mind playing tricks with me?''


    Suddenly, evil, childlike giggles echoed from the speakers, filling the room with an unnatural chill. Peter''s heart pounded violently in his chest as cold sweat trickled down his spine. His breath hitched, and a cold, creeping dread took hold, causing every hair on his body to stand on end.


    ''I''m a science nerd, but what kind of Sith sorcery is this? Is the Dark Side at play?'' he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, as a marker pen, seemingly possessed, scratched against the whiteboard in erratic, frantic strokes.


    Peter immediately showed a defensive stance. He remembered he was Spider-Man. Well, he forgot that fact for a second.


    "Show yourself, poltergeist¡ªif that''s what you are. You should know that my great-grandpa was an exorcist. So, yeah, you''re messing with the wrong nerd!" Peter nervously said, trying to keep calm as he eyed the exit.


    However, his hope was shattered the moment he heard the whole warehouse went into lockdown. Red alarm lights constantly blinked in the lab, not helping him in his situation at all.


    "Poor Peter Parker!" A horrifying gut-wrenching screech suddenly sounded near his ears. Like a cat, Peter reactively jumped and stuck on the wall with his sticky fingers.


    "Poor Peter Parker!" The voice echoed all over the place, following him everywhere.


    Peter gritted his teeth. The most terrifying things are the unseen¡ªphenomena that couldn''t be explained by conventional science.


    ''I want to think that some guy in an invisibility cloak with a grudge against me is the one I''m against... My spidey sense can''t pick up anything, damnit.''


    ''I''m aware I can''t punch a ghost.'' His eyes darted wildly around the room, searching for any sign of movement, any clue that might help him make sense of the surreal situation.


    It was then that Joe decided he had had enough of tormenting the terrified spider. His childish antics could leave Peter scarred for life. That wasn''t good, but¡­ it was fun.


    Joe deactivated the sound cancellers and walked until he was near Peter. His steps were suspenseful and eerie, causing Peter to shoot webs at a nonexistent enemy.


    Joe casually sidestepped the sticky webs.


    He restrained himself from touching him. God knows how his spidey sense operated at insane levels. The guy could still move even after being ''benimaru''d'' into astral projection.


    "Boo, do you have my cure?" Joe subtly chuckled in amusement as his body became visible. Peter instantly leaped to the ceiling, far away from Joe.


    "Joe? Wait¡ªare you a ghost? Did something happen? You didn''t... die, did you, man?" Peter tentatively asked, his doubtful eyes narrowed.


    "Yo, bro. How¡ª" Joe began, but Peter jumped around him, simultaneously shooting several webs.


    ''Aren''t you the cautious one, Pete?'' Joe clicked his tongue in mild amusement as webs enveloped him in rapid succession. In moments, his entire body was tightly cocooned, leaving him mummified in sticky strands.


    Things were getting interesting. It seems that even tangible ghosts exist nowadays.


    ***


    [Word Count 1834]

 [56] A Little Bromance

    Just a Quick Note: I don''t own any of the characters, worlds, or universes mentioned here (aside from a few original characters). They all belong to their respective creators and companies.


    This is a work of fiction, created simply for fun and inspiration. No offense or infringement intended.


    ***


    ''Atta boy,'' Joe smirked mischievously as his cocooned body hung suspended, subtly swinging back and forth. The situation was so perfect, so similar to Lara Croft''s starting dilemma in the Tomb Raider. The problem was, for the love of him, the inability to moan in every situation.


    ''Um, that''s sexist. Lara is just doing what Lara normally does. I should leave her out of my current... quagmire.'' He lightly chuckled internally before refocusing on the sticky strands restraining him completely.


    Though Joe could have easily avoided his current predicament by dodging Peter''s webs, he chose not to. Instead, he pitied Peter and allowed himself to be caught, sacrificing his pride to ease Peter''s distress.


    "Not so scary, are we? How''s the taste of the medicine I''ve given you?" Peter smugly tapped his head, irritation on his face, as he allowed his body to slide down through his thick web in an upside-down position.


    ''I don''t wanna taste your stuff, bro. Especially when they are something sticky...'' Joe thought, recoiling in disgust in his mind. He didn''t dare to open his mouth. Even if he wanted to speak, the voice would come out muffled and incorrigible.


    All in all, Joe had immense respect for Spider-Man''s webbing formula. Peter had developed it back in high school, likely concocting the breakthrough in the chaos of his messy bedroom.


    "Cat got your tongue?" Peter said in a mocking voice as he tapped Joe''s totally wrapped-up form, making him swing like a pendulum.


    ''The audacity of this sneaky bastard. Sigh, why did you have to act so smug, Pete?'' Joe''s lips twitched, suppressing a smile as Peter swung him back and forth. His eyes gleamed with barely contained mirth, even as he maintained a facade of helplessness.


    "Joe, don''t dream about escaping from there until I''ve vented enough." Peter swung along with Joe''s pendulous momentum. It was a comical scene.


    "?Spider-Man, Spider-Man... ?" Peter whistled his phone''s ringtone as he reveled in the ridiculous moment.


    ''How typical.'' Joe nearly facepalmed himself but could not do so because of the strong web. He tried to shift his body parts, but the webbings were quite elastic, somehow adapting to his movements.


    "Interesting. The tensile strength is around 120 pounds per square millimeter. Its molecular flexibility is remarkable, and it even can absorb small amounts of kinetic energy. If he ever got his hands on vibranium and reverse-engineered its unique properties, I can''t begin to imagine what heights he''d reach. Using just synthetic polymers alone, he''s already achieved so much." Joe mused, fascinated by the intricate composition of Spider-Man''s webs.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ''So these webs once temporarily restrained a blood-lusted Hercules in one comic issue. I reckon even the Hulk got stuck by Spider-Man. Hmm, they are quite durable.'' Joe once again experimentally flexed his arm muscles, feeling the resistance. The webbing strained against his muscled arms.


    ''Pete, you''re strong, but not strong enough. I''m your father, just like Arlecchino. You''ll never be able to oust me.'' Joe''s lips curled into a one-sided grin as he prepared to break free from the cocoon. A butterfly was meant to fly freely, not remain trapped. Metamorphosis was a force that transcended nature''s constraints.


    Joe had already metamorphosed once. Going through the second phase wasn''t that bad, right?


    Joe methodically tensed his muscles, feeling the illusory omnipotent power course through his body. With his current strength, he really felt he could lift even the Mjolnir or support the skies.


    ''Just kidding, I''m not worthy.''


    The familiar pulse of muscles contracting, gathering raw power, filled Joe with the sudden urge to just unleash the beast of destruction within him. Joe curbed those hidden primal urges and concentrated on getting out of the ''sticky'' situation first.


    BOOM!


    In one thoroughly calculated attempt, Joe forcefully tore the webbings, splattering the fiber remnants all over the lab.


    "Holy moly¡ª" Peter''s jaw nearly hit the floor as he reflexively moved away from Joe, who perfectly landed on the floor.


    ''How can he be that strong?'' Peter narrowed his gaze as he agilely crawled on the walls.


    "O.M.G, did you just¡­ do a superhero landing?" His eyes dilated as he gawked at Joe''s majestic form. His thoughts tended to be all over the place, especially when he experienced a series of jaw-dropping situations. However, the cliched landing wasn''t the most important thing at the moment. Peter had a lot of questions to ask Joe. Curiosity got the better part of him. And there was nothing intense like rubbing the Peter tingle.


    "Uh-huh." Joe casually nodded as he rose from the ground.


    "I apologize for making you shit your pants. My bad." He dramatically performed a praying gesture, a deeply apologetic expression plastered on his face. He fully embodied that emoticon hashira named Gyomei.


    Peter''s lips twitched at the unnecessary theatrics. Joe''s verbal apology was enough to make him sideline the horror prank. Leaping off the wall, Peter gracefully landed near Joe. Peter''s curious eyes never left Joe''s body as he constantly sized him up. He eyed his muscles like the most fascinating thing on earth.


    Joe instinctively took a step back, his brows furrowed. "Stop with those creepy eyes, bro. You''re making me uncomfortable.''


    Peter smiled in embarrassment while pinching his nose.


    "I-I didn''t mean... sorry about that. I''m not gay," he stammered awkwardly.


    "It''s normal to be gay for me, bro. I know I''m flaming hot like hell." Joe''s lips cracked into a cocky grin as he stretched out his hand and patted Peter''s shoulder.


    "The hell?" Peter''s face twisted in confusion, a skeptical look settling over his features.


    ''What''s up with this dude?'' The thought flashed through his mind, followed by a cringe.


    "Ew, no homo." He made a face, trying to shrug Joe''s hand off his shoulder.


    Peter''s eyes widened in surprise when the hand didn''t budge. He stretched out his hand, applying just a hint of pressure, careful not to use too much force. Even now, he worries about accidentally hurting Joe.


    ''Still not moving?'' His thoughts raced as he glanced between the hand on his shoulder and Joe''s smug face. ''I didn''t expect him to be this strong.''


    "We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Which one do you choose?" Peter said, dropping a clich¨¦ like it was fresh.


    Joe sighed, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "Seriously, man? Can you update your one-liner repertoire? I''m cringing for you."


    Joe disengaged his hand, deeply embarrassed for Peter.


    "What¡ª?" Peter froze like a statue, mouth agape. For a moment, it felt like the ice age had returned.


    Thankfully, he recovered a few seconds later, his earlier fascination with Joe''s superhuman feat overriding that embarrassingly awkward moment. One slip-up couldn''t easily turn off the switch in his head.


    "Anyway, tell me¡ªhow did you tear my webbing apart like tissue paper? Wait, did something radioactive bite you? Or maybe you used a bioelectric disruptor to weaken the tensile strength? Are you like... Captain America?"


    Peter excitedly circled Joe, firing off questions nonstop as he scrutinized him from every angle, like a photographer searching for the perfect shot.


    A thick black vein pulsed at Joe''s temple, followed by a low, dark chuckle.


    ''I forgot what kind of person Peter is¡ªa curious kid. Funny, since I''m just as childish in my own way,'' Joe sighed softly, trying to calm his irritation.


    He figured he''d have to indulge Peter''s burning curiosity, if only to quell it for a moment.


    "Alright, I''ll talk, but only if you stop buzzing around me like a fly," Joe said, his tone patient but firm.


    Peter immediately stood at attention and zipped his mouth.


    Joe pulled the office chair closer and settled into it comfortably. "So... I''ve been working on a few things, and finally¡­" He paused, ready to enlighten his close friend. He was eager to expand his perspective on the limitless potential of science before addressing the crucial matter at hand.


    ***


    [word count 1371]

 [57] Umbrella Corporation slip-up?

    Quick Note: I don''t own any characters, worlds, or universes mentioned here (aside from a few original characters). They all belong to their respective creators and companies.


    This is a work of fiction, created simply for fun and maybe a bit of inspiration. No offense or infringement intended.


    ***


    "You what¡ªYou recreated the super soldier serum?!" Peter exclaimed heavily, his jaw almost dropping to the floor.


    "And you also decided to mess with microversal science? That''s the most insane thing I''ve heard since birth." Peter began nervously pacing around, his hands clapped on his waist.


    ''Even for a super soldier, he would have to exert over 20 tons of raw strength to treat my webbings like paper.'' Peter bit his lip in thought.


    Joe wore a casual expression as he studied the restless Peter with mirthful eyes.


    It took a major step for him to part with such sensitive information. He had always been closed off when it came to his personal life. However, Joe thought it wouldn''t be bad to confide in Peter. His overall evaluation after interacting with Peter for quite some time was: that he certainly could be trusted.


    He didn''t need to tell him everything¡ªjust the details that mattered. The truth about his existence, his deepest secrets¡ªthose were things he couldn''t share, not even with family. Some truths were too dangerous and would inevitably lead to chaos.


    ''I''m changing. Is it for the better or the worse?'' Joe contemplated as he rested his cheek on his fist. ''Maybe I''ve always had a soft spot all along.''


    "W-What made you do that, man? Why did you take such risks that might atomize your being into nothingness?" Peter stopped pacing, his expression hardening, his serious gaze drilling a hole through Joe''s head.


    When Joe delved into his explanation of the Quantum Realm¡ªalso known as the Microverse¡ªPeter''s excitement had grown. It was an entirely foreign universe, operating on nanoscale levels and intrinsically linked to the fabric of space-time. The sheer novelty of it offered endless possibilities, but with those came the potential for catastrophic mistakes. The dangers were as immense as the opportunities.


    Despite the grim odds stacked against him, Peter still couldn''t fathom why Joe would risk his own life.


    ''If that isn''t chronic insanity, then what is he then?'' Peter pondered, his brows closely knitted in frustration. It made him somehow angry that Joe could be reckless as he remembered that day he almost died at the Times Square Bombing.


    Was he being unreasonable?


    Joe pursed his lips, quietly observing Peter''s frown, already guessing what was running through his mind. Peter wasn''t adept at facial expression manipulation. He always gave away something. What surprised Joe was his low-key care for him.


    ''This bastard...is certainly likable.'' Joe chuckled internally, subtle warmth settling in his heart.


    "Stop fussing over the past details. Didn''t I survive and emerge back stronger and faster? I''m already super," Joe declared, hitting his chest with his thumb.


    "How insufferable. Sometimes have a deep awareness of the consequences of such power," Peter deeply sighed, not wanting to annoy Joe with his protectiveness anymore.


    "Someone once told me, ''With great power comes great responsibility.'' I''ve always lived by that code... until now." Peter''s voice softened, a distant look crossing his face. He tried to shake it off with a light joke. "I-I just hope you don''t let that naughty side of yours wreak havoc in my neighborhood."


    The overhead light flickered, the electricity buzzing in the background.


    Of course, Joe knew whom Peter was referring to. It was someone more than just family. He was the person who created Spider-Man at the individual level and set him on such a path. To always do good no matter his circumstances. It bound Peter to a fixed ideal to live up to. The chains of past promises were difficult to overcome in Peter''s case.


    ''Everyone has their own story and path they''ve chosen to embark on. It would be cumbersome to influence him, and I should respect his moral direction. However, that doesn''t mean we''re necessarily on the same path.'' Joe thought carefully before standing up.


    The current atmosphere was palpably awkward.


    "You have my word, Spider-Man." Joe confidently smiled and patted Peter''s shoulder with reassurance.


    Then, his tone suddenly shifted, becoming more serious. "We have important matters to deal with, Pete. What do you have for me about the flu virus?"


    The question jolted Peter back to reality, suddenly making him switch gears inside his head. He took a deep breath and then released a frustrated sigh. "Oh right, there was that."


    "I''ve hit a wall in my research. There is something that has been escaping my grasp whenever I try to reach a conclusive end in the viral simulated environment." Peter walked to the experiment table and pulled up a holographic image. It was the familiar polyhedral structure of the influenza virus.


    Joe moved closer as Peter zoomed on the Hemagglutinin (HA) protein.


    "The mutation rate of the flu virus is known to be rapid. That''s why a universal cure doesn''t yet exist." Peter pointed out.


    "Right¡ªantigenic drift," Joe nodded.


    "Yeah. My research was based on the existing recombinant Hemagglutinin approach. I tried to self-contain the virus to induce a positive mutation, but it only increased its virulence. Even when I included a synthetic RNA sequence." Peter pinched a holographic trimeric protein and pushed it to Joe.


    "That''s a nice step you''ve taken already."


    "I don''t think so, Joe. There''s more. I''ve been toying with the idea of using a completely different virus to inhibit the self-replicating mechanism of the flu virus."


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    A discerning glint shone in Joe''s eyes, his mind overflowing with different viral variants. They were the untapped possibilities, but sadly, the stage wasn''t his.


    "It''s the pathogen behind common colds¡ªthe rhinovirus." Peter swiped another viral strain into the mix.


    "This one''s milder and isn''t as toxic as the flu virus. What if we¡ª The idea is crazy! Oh God, please help me!" Peter abruptly ran a hand through his hair.


    "I''m all about mad science. Spill it." Joe grinned wickedly, his eyes gleaming with anticipation, urging Peter not to hold anything back.


    Peter shot him a glance before introducing another virus. It was the swine flu virus.


    "The swine flu and rhinovirus... Aha, interesting. Is this what you''re thinking?" Joe stepped closer, manipulating the holographic display of the swine flu and rhinovirus genetic codes. What followed was a precise simulation of genetic engineering, resulting in the creation of a new viral strain¡ªone unknown to the body''s immune system. It was a game changer, blending the genetic properties of both viruses.


    On seeing the results of Joe''s virtual experiment, Peter''s eyes lit up in recognition.


    "Wow, that''s what I had been constantly thinking about. It''s as if you read my mind. Weird."


    "You know, I''m something of a super genius myself. I didn''t mean to brag, by the way. I easily connected the dots, and it clicked." Joe smirked at Peter and shrugged his shoulders.


    Peter helplessly shook his head, not knowing what to do with the guy. He refocused on the new viral variant capable of suppressing the flu virus, depriving it of its host. The body''s immune response could hypothetically adapt to the bioengineered strain.


    "That''s the positive side of things. The problem lies in its administration¡ªit would need to be spread through airborne means, like from New York''s skyline. That''s biological terrorism in my book. I can''t do that, man."


    Joe arched his brows, impressed by Peter''s sense of righteousness. "If there is a slim chance of zoonotic transmission and the new strain mutates into something much worse, you fear many might die unjustifiably, right? Individuals with weaker immune systems are likely to die fast. That''s a recipe for a biological catastrophe."


    "Yeah. I''m supposed to be the hero that people look up to, not their mass murderer," Peter replied.


    Even though Joe felt he wasn''t as heroic as Peter, he also certainly didn''t want to be responsible for an unintended genocide despite their good intentions. There was no reason to act like the Mad Titan obsessed with balance and universal correction.


    ''This is something Umbrella Corporation would certainly be interested in after what they did to Raccoon City.'' he lightly mused.


    "Hey, don''t worry. Your approach is more than viable¡ªit''s groundbreaking. It''ll pave the way for future breakthroughs. Your ingenious solution will be the blueprint for the perfect cure, bud," Joe said, his tone reassuring.


    "All breakthroughs in science are made like this. Cheer up."


    Peter nodded in understanding. "I''m good. The research was killing me with self-doubt anyway. I thought the method was wrong on several occasions, even without the mass-spreading shenanigans."


    "So Pete, what villains have you recently interacted with?" Joe casually asked. They could finalize the research anytime if they combine their genius minds. He thought some casual talks wouldn''t hurt as he played around with the holographic models. It was multitasking at its finest.


    Peter squinted his eyes as if in thought. "Have you heard of the Kingpin?"


    Joe paused his actions, his gaze narrowed. "The self-proclaimed king of the underworld, the big man in the shadows. Of course, I know him."


    "I''m onto him, but he''s a tougher opponent than I thought." Peter leaned on the table, his hands clutching on the edges.


    "He has recently been at the center of the murder cases in Hell''s Kitchen, but there''s simply no incriminating evidence. He''s totally clean."


    "Now that you''ve mentioned it, Pete. I think I have some inevitable connection with Fisk."


    "You know his real name?" Peter exclaimed.


    "I happen to be good at detective work."


    "I''ll take that with a pinch of salt. So what''s his connection with you?"


    "He hurt somebody he shouldn''t have touched. Someone close to me," Joe shared this information, his eyes studying Peter''s reaction.


    "Who?" Peter''s body tensed as his grip on the table tightened unconsciously. It was a good thing the table had been built with extreme durability in mind.


    "You don''t have to worry about that. I''ll help you deal with Kingpin." Joe quickly dismissed the question with another reply, his voice chillingly low and sharp.


    For the first time since he had interacted with Joe, Peter felt his spider senses tingle violently. At that moment, his friend felt an awakened monster about to be unleashed into the wild.


    "How will you deal with him?" Peter gave him a questioning glare.


    "I haven''t thought about it specifically." Joe smoothly lied, and Peter even believed his words.


    Only he knew what fate had in store for Wilson Fisk. Peter just fast-forwarded his day of judgment so soon since Joe had been preoccupied with many things in the past months. He had already investigated everything about Wilson Fisk until there was nothing left.


    He wouldn''t have bothered with Fisk if he hadn''t ordered his hooligans to use Gwen as a hostage on that rainy day.


    Wilson Fisk was an unstable element, and he should be removed.


    ***


    [Word Count 1851]

 [58] Wilson Fisk

    Just a Quick Note: I don''t own any of the characters, worlds, or universes mentioned here (aside from a few original characters). They all belong to their respective creators and companies.


    This is a work of fiction, created simply for fun and maybe a bit of inspiration. No offense or infringement intended.


    Warning: Themes of Violence ahead


    ***


    During the day, New York City would always feel safe and bright. New Yorkers would have that vague feeling of being in control of their lives and whatnot. However, was that the whole truth? Could a normal plebeian have complete control over their lives, or was it just an illusion projected by the system¡ªthose in power, hidden within the shadows and in plain sight? Everything was under constant surveillance. They knew the loans you took, the debts sinking your credit score, your addictions¡ªevery vulnerability. And they could control you, all while you remained blissfully unaware.


    This city was like a cake, carefully divided among those who controlled the system¡ªbe it economically, politically, or psychologically. But if they devoured the whole damn thing themselves, what remained for the common people? Just crumbs and even those wouldn''t be enough.


    ***


    The full moon hung high in the sky, radiating its resplendent moonlight, bathing the city in a silver glow. Despite the seemingly purifying element of the moon, there existed places in New York where even light could be invalidated. Darkness and decay overruled any form of purification and hope.


    Hell''s Kitchen was one of the places in New York that teemed with darkness etched into the fabric of its spatial layers. Light abstained from touching the darkness that oozed from there, for it was a forbidden zone. Hell''s Kitchen was simply the highway to the underworld¡ªIt was Hades'' favorite place. The streets teemed with ghastly shadows and shady figures making illegal deals. Homelessness had become a part-time job for the shrewd hobos, who lurked in the darkness, careful not to draw unwanted attention.


    ''Illegal'' was the new normal there.


    Within an expensive establishment that stood out amidst the pulsating nightlife of Hell''s Kitchen, something bone-chilling was happening. Inside a heavily fortified secret room, a shirtless man sat chain-bound on an iron chair. His figure was illuminated by a single, flickering fluorescent bulb that singled him from the room''s unforgiving darkness.


    His head hung low, heartbeats faint and barely perceptible. His body was riddled with bloody, pus-filled cuts, and several fingers were missing. Even his shoeless feet hadn''t escaped the brutal treatment, their thumbs surgically removed. On the ground, a few fat rats brazenly fought over his severed digits, but the man remained utterly unresponsive.


    The chained man was eerily silent, cold, and dispirited. He had shivered enough until his body got accustomed to it. It was a miracle he still hadn''t succumbed to hypothermia or hemorrhage. Crying had become a chore as all of his tears had gradually dried. He was a mere husk of his former self.


    A thick steel-reinforced door creaked open, making the chubby rats scatter into the darkness.


    Calm but heavy footsteps echoed in the dimly lit room. With each step, an ominous song played in the background. It was the theme of the towering Goliath''s entry. Rats squeaked in the dark corners of the room, seemingly repelled by that person''s menacing aura. The unresponsive, tortured man finally showed a reaction.


    His body instinctively shivered, his lowered gaze catching a glimpse of large black shoes from his peripheral vision. He very well knew whom they belonged to. It was the powerful individual behind his unjustified detention.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Why me? Why did I have to endure those months of hell? This isn''t the kind of atonement I envisioned when I retired as an assassin. But do people like me even deserve atonement? Maybe the deepest circles of hell are my true retirement plan.


    Fuck you, Wilson Fisk! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!


    Even with years of training as a professional assassin, including torture resistance, Fisk was a monster who shattered all of it. He was the vilest demon the assassin had ever faced. His own bloody kill count paled compared to this man, who had left him psychologically and emotionally wrecked.


    Finally, the new visitor came into the light. He stood at an imposing six-seven, packing 450 lbs of muscles that furiously strained against his pristine white suit. He looked like the epitome of purity amidst the darkness and filth of the room. But don''t be mistaken: he was anything but pure. He was Wilson Fisk, the Kingpin of the underworld, an ''honest'' businessman.


    If power had a definition, then Fisk represented it quite well. He was power incarnate, both illegitimately and legitimately. He was the baker of the cake which the influential men and women of New York distributed amongst themselves. Well, even that felt like an understatement. Fisk was the whole damn bakery. The system was him and him the system.


    "In all my years in the game, I''ve never trusted even the assassins under my contract list." Fisk''s voice was low, disturbingly so. The overhead light frighteningly bounced off his bald head as he unhurried walked around the chained assassin.


    "The words of an assassin can be bought, but you once refused my kind first offer. But now, look at you." His penetrating pale blue eyes landed on the shaking assassin. PTSD was real, and the bound assassin was clearly suffering from it. He hated and feared Fisk to the bone.


    "Look at me," Fisk commanded as he stopped in front of the assassin.


    The assassin struggled to raise his head, his neck muscles protesting after not moving for a long time.


    A feeble, hoarse reply barely escaped from his lips. "I-I have told you everything you need to know. My contractor was fully anonymous. Only the bountiful reward mattered when I took the job."


    "Beyond the simple job, I didn''t care to look into it."


    "That''s the code we live by as assassins."


    "Hmm," Fisk calmly nodded, his rage threatening to be unleashed. He was a man who liked to be in control of every little detail. And control first started from within. He had to be a master of his own emotions and harshly decisive when the situation demanded it.


    The assassin before Fisk was involved in the secret clean-up of his men¡ªthe underlings he had delegated the task of kidnapping NYPD''s captain''s daughter. It was part of his grander plan to lessen the sharpness of George Stacy''s claws. Fisk didn''t give two hoots about those disposable minions.


    What bothered him was the person or organization behind it. Who sabotaged his plans? That''s what he had been constantly asking himself, and he hated every moment of it. Concerning the unknown enemy, the control he had always wielded was slowly slipping away from his hands. It was utterly unforgivable.


    The few moles Fisk had planted in the NYPD failed to extract any clues from the street surveillance footage. He had been thoroughly outmaneuvered-Outsmarted. Whoever hired the assassin was meticulous, resourceful, and undeniably dangerous.


    Maybe a new rival in town? No, it can''t be. I always keep my enemies closer¡ªmutual benefits for those cooperative and a painful death for the defiant.


    "Tsk, tsk, tsk..." Fisk frustratingly played with the silver ring on his ring finger.


    The assassin''s hollowed eyes fearfully widened like a deer caught in the headlights. Trepidation washed over his skillfully honed senses as an experienced killer. It was a precognitive feeling of something he was entirely familiar with. It was the call of death. He had killed many to lose count and unconsciously embodied the last cries and perspectives of his targets.


    As a man who took lives for a living, death was always near¡ªcloser to him than most. Yet, that proximity didn''t make him fearless. In fact, he wanted to live desperately. The irony wasn''t lost on him.


    "I can''t believe I prolonged your existence for months when I knew of the truth for some time now," Fisk said, shaking his head in desolation. He silently trailed his massive, rough hands across the assassin''s shoulders.


    "P-PLEASEEEEE!" The assassin tearfully begged, disgusting snot dripping from his nose. His whole body was on high alert, squeezing the last bits of energy remaining inside him. It was his body''s final attempt at survival.


    "I CAN HELP YOU!"


    "DON''T KILL ME!!"


    Fisk feigned helplessness, his face a mask of contemplation. Then, without warning, his viper-like hands shot out, clamping around the assassin''s throat with crushing force. In one swift motion, he hoisted the man¡ªstill heavily chained to his seat¡ªup to eye level, their faces inches apart.


    "Are you really an assassin or a fraud?" Fisk asked, a disappointed expression appearing on his face.


    "#$@&@%!!!" The assassin tried to speak, but only labored gibberish came out. His throat was being squeezed to nothingness, making the blood vessels on his temple pop out. The color of his face was slowly turning reddish purple.


    "Farewell." Uncaringly, Fisk forcefully twisted the assassin''s neck. The sound of bones cracking and separating from the spine resounded in the room.


    With a cold gleam in his eyes, Fisk held the lifeless body like how a butcher would clutch a chicken. He then let the corpse find solace on the cold, damp ground.


    Killing the assassin didn''t lessen the uneasiness he was feeling. It only made him want to just let out what he had been bottling up. Fisk was restless. He was out in the open, albeit masked by inky shadows. However, the enemy was unknown, probably laughing at him behind the scenes.


    It was humiliating. Fisk''s frown deepened as he put his hands forward. Another figure dressed in complete black emerged from the darkness with a bottle of expensive alcohol. The figure then poured out the drink, and Fisk washed his hands.


    Fisk removed a white handkerchief from his breast pocket and dried his hands. After finishing, he dropped it on the dead assassin.


    "Have the crew deal with it," Fisk ordered before leaving the room, a gloomy aura lingering around him.


    The night was still young. It was time to hunt.


    Ever since a childhood incident, Fisk had vowed to always be the hunter¡ªthe predator.


    The prey''s fate has always been bleak, with one conclusion: Death!


    ***


    [Word Count 1702]

 Daoist OneArmed鈥檚 Tribulation has ENDED!

    Hey, beautiful humans! *waves awkwardly*


    I know, I know... it''s been a minute. Two months, to be exact. And I owe you all a massive explanation for going MIA without any heads up. Life''s been... interesting (and by interesting, I mean a total rollercoaster).


    Real talk? My brain hasn''t been braining lately. Like, at all. You know that feeling when your mind is just a bowl of soggy cereal? Yeah, that''s been me. I''ve been dealing with some psychological stuff that''s been kicking my butt, and honestly, writing ¨C which usually is my happy place ¨C felt more like a hassle. Classic writer''s block decided to team up with my mental health issues, and they''ve been throwing one heck of a party in my head (and I wasn''t even invited, rude).You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    But here''s the good news: your prodigal son has returned! *throws confetti* And I come bearing actual good news ¨C the fog is finally starting to lift, and the words are starting to flow again. I know I''ve kept you hanging, especially with the Marvel story and the King of Gods fanfic, but I''m making it up to you.


    This Sunday, both stories are getting updates! Yes, you read that right. TWO chapters, ONE day. Consider it my "I''m sorry I ghosted you" make-up gift.


    Thank you for sticking around and being patient with me. Your support means more than you know, even when I''m being a disaster of a writer who forgets how to string words together.


    See you Sunday, fam!


    P.S. My brain is (mostly) braining again, so that''s progress, right? ??