January 6th, 2011
"...ster Edward!"
I groaned audibly, rolling over and stuffing my face into my pillow.
"Master Edward!" Gideon's voice rose an octave, followed by the rustling of curtains and then a bright sliver of light glaring into my face.
"Alright, alright. I'm up!"
Jeez, who would have thought Gideon was such a taskmaster.
"Your alarm went off ten minutes ago, Master. You do not wish to be late for your first day of school," Gideon chastised.
Well, as much as a robot could sound chastising.
I threw off the blanket, revealing my bare form, and smiled at the sight of my new and improved body that I still hadn't quite gotten used to.
In my past life, I wasn't the scrawniest kid on the block, but I definitely wasn't the most well-built. I was a stereotypical nerd, to put it simply.
All skin, bones, and gangly limbs with no real muscle definition.
That definitely wasn't the case here.
At seventeen years old, and despite sixteen years of grueling torture, my physique was in top form.
I was much taller now, nearing 6'3" with room to grow. My build wasn't the bulky, overly muscular frame of Viltrumites like Thragg, Nolan, or Conquest, but rather a lean, well-defined one instead. Six-pack and all.
My eye color had shifted from a bluish-green to a deeper emerald. My jawline and facial structure were more refined, almost aristocratic, likely the result of millennia of Viltrumite breeding for the purest bloodlines.
The neatly cropped black hair I usually sported was messy from a night's rest. I had a similar cut to Omni-Man, short on the sides and neatly trimmed on top.
Though I didn't know if a mustache was in my future.
Finally, my skin had begun to regain some color, no longer the sickly pale I had been when I first escaped.
Standing in front of the full-body mirror next to my bed, I noticed it wasn't the only thing that had grown when I transmigrated, the good old Viltrumite rod was a solid eight inches in length.
Now all I needed was a harem of Marvel baddies to complete the cliché fanfiction.
The warm shower was refreshing that morning, and despite finally acclimating to the cold in this new body, I was glad I had fixed the water heater the night prior.
I dressed a bit nicer than usual that morning, a long-sleeve dark gray polo I managed to snag for a good price, a pair of black jeans faded to gray at the knees, and a pair of used black Vans.
God, thrift shops were a major hack in this world too. Nearly ten outfits I could mix and match into even more for less than three hundred bucks.
Though no matter how broke I was, I made sure not to stoop to the level of buying secondhand underwear.
Didn't want some random dude's skid marks after all.
Despite living somewhat comfortably, I spent the majority of my free time, not spent setting up and renovating my new home, thinking of possible ways to make money.
I could just get a job, which wasn't the worst idea, but it felt so mundane working a part-time gig when I could literally fly across the planet and back in seconds.
So I decided to go the typical transmigration route, inventing some life-altering technology that would double my fortune overnight.
It had been a plan in the back of my mind since I first laid eyes on the spaceship that brought me to Earth.
Said spaceship was currently cloaked in the massive garage I had finally gotten around to cleaning.
While I might have felt a bit shitty completely ripping off Viltrumite technology and passing it off as my own, the need for a proper source of income outweighed the guilt.
So I would start small, but my end goal was to build an aerospace company dedicated to traversing the stars.
Though that likely wouldn't happen for a few years. It took money to build a spaceship, after all.
And I also needed a bit of a reputation before jumping straight into something like that.
My motivation for it was twofold. One, because who wouldn't want to travel the stars? But also because I knew that in the future, several threats from deep space would arrive on our doorstep.
I wanted to prepare the world for those threats instead of leaving it vulnerable to them.
I made a hearty breakfast that morning, eggs, toast, sausage, and a large glass of orange juice, before making my way out the door toward Midtown High.
The commute wasn't that bad, only a ten-minute walk, so there was no need to take the subway.
I could have simply used super speed to get there, but I learned the hard way when I tried that and my clothes burned up in two seconds.
A waste of twenty bucks.
Arriving at school ten minutes later, I took my first good look at the place that housed so many iconic characters, from future heroes like Peter Parker and Jessica Jones to several baddies such as Gwen Stacy and Mary Jane Watson.
I was unsure what version of Peter Parker I was going to find when I walked through those doors. Would it be Maguire? Garfield? Or the most recent Holland?
If it was the last one, then did that mean no Mary Jane or Gwen, but instead Michelle Jones?
Who knew?
Judging by the fact that Spider-Man had only been active for a few months, it meant that little Petey was likely still a freshman, and would have little interaction with me, who was two grades above him.
Still, if I ran into the guy, I'd try to make friends with him.
Us enhanced needed to stick together after all, even if I wasn't doing the whole superhero thing just yet.
The school was massive, built from red brick like many of the buildings in Queens, four stories tall with rows of windows lining each floor, students bustling in and out of the main entrance, chatting the entire way.
It took me five minutes just to find the main office and get my schedule. I had tested into several AP courses, computer science, calculus, and physics to name a few.
Those classes weren't filled with any familiar faces, and it wasn't until lunch that day that I caught my first glimpse of who I assumed to be Peter Parker.
Who looked exactly like a teenage Tom Holland.
I had always thought people gave Tom a hard time as Iron-Boy Jr. instead of Spider-Man. That had started to change with the Brand-New Day trailer that came out before I died.
Huh… I wouldn't get to see that now, would I?
Was it possible I'd run into Sadie Sink as Jean Grey?
Tom, or, well, Peter in this case, was sitting next to a plump Hispanic kid who looked suspiciously like a young Jacob Batalon.
Which was why I was confused when I scanned the room for Zendaya, only for my eyes to land on the familiar face framed by a short bob of blonde hair.
Which was odd, seeing as I was at least expecting Emma Stone or even Bryce Dallas Howard, not a live-action version of Gwen Stacey from the Spiderverse films.
Did that mean that some Ghost-Spider action was coming in the future? Perhaps a little bit of a Spider-couple?
Several other familiar faces popped up.
Flash was the one from the Garfield movies, surrounded by his football bros.
Joined by Liz Allen from the that looked like a live-action version of the one from Spectacular Spiderman.
Jeez, was this some type of mash-up of all the Spiderverses?
But I didn't see anyone I would assume to be either Mary Jane or Michelle Jones. Odd, but maybe this world followed one of the storylines where Mary Jane was introduced later, or was a bit older than Peter.
Or maybe he and Gwen would end up together?
If so, I'd have to make sure she didn't die and leave Peter with lifelong trauma.
Though if she did turn out to be Ghost-Spider later on then it probably wasn't necessary.
I ate my lunch quickly, alone since I had yet to make anything beyond passing acquaintances. Though I did get a few stares, both from Flash's table, who eyed me like a potential recruit, and from several girls across different grades.
What can I say? I looked pretty damn good.
The rest of the school day passed in a blur. The classes weren't difficult despite being advanced placement.
My already above-average intelligence, combined with the way Viltrumites processed information, had me breezing through everything like it was nothing.
It was on my way out of school that a smaller form bumped into my chest, followed by the clatter of books hitting the ground.
I hadn't been paying attention, so I forgot to react like the impact should have moved me. Looking down, I found myself face to face with Peter Parker, who stared up at me in shock before quickly masking it.
"Sorry, dude. Wasn't paying attention," I said. "Here, let me help you with that."
"No, no, it's fine," he replied, already picking up a few books while I grabbed the rest.
"Hey, you're that new guy, right?" Ned asked, looking at me curiously.
I nodded. "Yep." I held out my hand. "Edward Blackwood. Nice to meet you."
"Ned Leeds."
I shook his hand and turned to Peter expectantly. When he took my hand, I could immediately tell it was stronger than most, but still nowhere near a Viltrumite's strength.
"Peter Parker. Thanks for the help."
"No problem. I'll see you guys around."
With that, I made my way out of the school and back toward the loft.
Realistically, I didn't need to go to school, but I had a couple of ulterior motives.
First was because I actually wanted to get a proper education, degree and all. I may have superpowers, but having them would solve every problem.
The other reason was access to the chemicals and materials I'd need for my first invention, along with the equipment to create it.
After all, this was a school for science and technology, equipped with some of the finest, most state-of-the-art gear this world had to offer.
It would be as simple as sneaking in at night, disabling the cameras, or looping them with a mundane feed, and completing my work as quickly as possible until I could afford my own equipment.
Hopefully that would be sooner rather than later, because despite only living in the real world for two weeks, I was already down a thousand dollars from my savings. Without a steady income, I'd have to resort to shady methods just to maintain the illusion of being a normal human being.
Who am I kidding? I'm not normal.
I'm a fucking Viltrumite.
–
(Third Person POV)
Peter Parker stared at the retreating form of the new student he had just bumped into absentmindedly.
The guy he had just bumped into without remembering to control his strength.
The guy who didn't even budge under what should have been the full force of his strength—the kind that could stop a moving truck with ease.
The guy who had felt like Peter had just run into a solid metal wall.
The first thought that popped into Peter's mind was that the guy was enhanced. He had to be.
To test that theory, Peter hadn't held back when shaking his hand, and yet the new kid's hand barely moved.
That both worried and intrigued his young mind.
For the past four months, his life had been a series of bizarre events Peter wouldn't wish on his worst enemy.
Getting bitten by that radioactive spider during a field trip to Oscorp.
Waking up with its powers, sticking to walls, lifting over a hundred times his own body weight, moving faster than he ever thought possible, and a sharp sixth sense that warned him whenever danger was near.
Then Uncle Ben died, leaving him with words that played on a constant loop in his head every morning he woke up.
Every morning he woke up with cuts, bruises, and sometimes even bullet wounds covering his body.
And if that wasn't bad enough, the thugs and crooks he used to stop on the streets had turned into full-blown super-powered individuals.
Just recently, he had taken down a guy calling himself the Shocker, equipped with gauntlets that emitted concentrated blasts of air strong enough to disorient, and well, "shock", his opponents.
He had been tough to take down at first, but eventually Peter managed to stop him and send him back to Ryker's.
That had been the pattern so far, most of his "villains" were little more than C-listers compared to the ones Iron Man or the Fantastic Four dealt with.
Peter didn't want to think about what would happen if he ever faced someone stronger than he was.
Watching Edward turn the corner and disappear into the hustle and bustle of Queens, Peter could only hope the guy was one of the good ones…
…and not some kind of evil mastermind.