Tuesday.
I can casually bench-press a hundred-thousand-ton cruise ship while having a conversation. I can crush titanium grade weapon gauntlets using only my thumb and index finger. I can cross the Atlantic Ocean in less time than it takes to microwave a damn Hot Pocket.
But I can't get a muthafuckin' strike at this muthafuckin' bowling alley?! I thought, gritting my teeth.
My twelve-pound neon orange bowling ball drifted aggressively to the left, missing the last pin entirely and dropping into the gutter with a pathetic thunk.
"And that's," William announced loudly, throwing his hands in the air, "game! Read it and weep, Grayson. You're looking at the undisputed king of the lanes."
I walked back to our booth, glaring at the scoreboard.
This is some ole bullshit, I thought, crossing my arms. There's no way he threw three turkeys in a row without some kind of latent superpower.
"What are you, a superbowler?" I muttered, grabbing a slice of pepperoni pizza from the greasy cardboard box in the center of the table. "This shit's rigged."
Rick laughed from the other side of the booth, taking a sip of his soda. He looked well. The cybernetic implants that D.A. Sinclair had forced onto his body were still there, hidden under a long-sleeved shirt, but the dark circles under his eyes were fading. He was getting his life back on track.
Which made what I had to tell them a little heavier.
"So," I said casually, taking a bite of my pizza. "I essentially declared a cold war against the Global Defense Agency yesterday."
William choked on a mozzarella stick. "You did what?"
"Long story short, I had a disagreement with Cecil Stedman," I explained, keeping my voice low over the sound of crashing pins from the next lane. "He tried to trap me in a white room underneath the Pentagon and drop a million Reanimen on my head to see what my new power limits were."
Rick froze, his grip tightening on his soda cup at the mention of the Reanimen.
"A million?" he whispered.
"Don't worry, they're scrap metal now," I assured him quickly, leaning forward. "But that's not the point. Before he tried to jump me, I made sure to air out his dirty laundry in front of every major superhero on the Eastern Seaboard. Including the fact that he put D.A. Sinclair on the GDA payroll."
The color drained from William's face, his eyes flashing with sudden anger. "He hired the guy who did this to Rick? After everything?"
"Not anymore," I smirked. "Once Eve, the Guardians, and Brit heard that Cecil gave a serial killer a blank check to desecrate corpses, the GDA's PR took quite the nosedive. The superhero community is in an uproar with him. Cecil has absolutely zero leverage right now, and as for Sinclair, he'll be lucky if he somehow finds a way to get himself thrown in a dark hole."
But, I doubt anything will truly happen to him. He's still useful to the GDA. Better to ease their minds than to let them wonder if he'll receive any punishment for his crimes.
Rick stared at me for a long moment. He looked down at his cybernetic hand, then back up at me. His eyes were shining slightly.
"You... you picked a fight with the most powerful military organization on the planet... for me?" Rick asked softly.
"I picked a fight because Cecil needed a reality check," I corrected gently, offering him a reassuring smile. "But yeah, man. You're my friend. Nobody gets to put the guy who nearly killed you on a pedestal. I'd do it for any friend of mine."
William let out a long breath, a proud grin spreading across his face. He reached over and clapped me on the shoulder.
"Damn, Mark. Look at you. Billionaire CEO, strongest hero on this planet, and a genuinely decent friend. You've really grown up."
"Yea, I try—decent?!" I glared at him, taking another bite of pizza. This little shit.
"Which makes it even crazier," William continued, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he leaned over the table, "that after dodging the issue for a solid month, you suddenly turned into Casanova."
I paused mid-chew.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied smoothly.
"Eve texted me," William laughed, absolutely delighted by the situation. "She said you were stuttering and sweating for about five seconds, and then a switch just flipped. Suddenly, you're giving her the smoldering CEO eyes, tracing her knuckles, and demanding she keep her Friday night open."
Rick burst out laughing, nearly spilling his soda. "Tracing her knuckles? Bro, who do you think you are?"
They're cooking me right now, and I can't even counter, I thought, suppressing a smirk.
"I handled the situation with tactical efficiency," I defended myself, though my face felt suspiciously warm. "The objective was secured. The logistics are handled."
"He's talking about a date like it's a military operation!" William cackled, pointing at me. "Oh, this is going to be the best Friday night of my life. I need hourly updates."
This is going to be a long week, I sighed internally.
Wednesday.
THWACK.
Oliver went spinning through the air like a skipped stone, bouncing twice off the reinforced rubber mats before skidding to a halt. He groaned, rubbing his jaw as he slowly pushed himself up.
"You telegraphed the left hook," I told him, floating down to the mat with my hands casually shoved in my sweatpants pockets. "You're fast, but you're treating every punch like you're trying to break a brick wall. You're throwing your whole body weight into it."
Which isn't truly wrong, but it's a bad habit that has to be broken early.
"Well, yeah!" Oliver huffed, hovering a few inches off the ground to dust himself off. He was in his new training gear, looking every bit like a miniature Viltrumite in training. "I'm trying to hit you! If I don't hit you hard, it won't do anything!"
"True. But if you miss, your momentum carries you right into my counter," I explained, gesturing for him to come at me again. "Brute force isn't everything. You have to learn how to pull your punches."
Oliver tilted his head, looking genuinely confused. "Pull my punches? Why would I do that? If they're bad guys, shouldn't I just punch them as hard as I can?"
I sighed, sitting down on a nearby bench. It was time for a lesson the Flaxan Warlord never got, but one that my human side knew was essential.
"No," I said firmly. "Listen carefully. We are stronger than almost everything on this planet. If you hit a normal human with everything you have, they won't just get knocked out. They'll explode. Some battles don't require the villain to die. Most of the time, they just need to be subdued. You have to learn to gauge your strength based on the situation."
"But how do I know if they need to be subdued or... you know... taken out permanently?" he asked, floating over to me.
"Observation," I told him, tapping the side of my head. "You watch, you analyze, and you figure out their motives before you make a firm decision. Not everyone wearing a costume, or equipped with terrifying power is a monster. People are complicated."
Before I could explain further, the Invincible Inc. encrypted comms array in my ear chirped. It was the AI monitoring local police scanners.
"Alert. Unauthorized metahuman activity detected at the First National Bank on 5th Avenue. Two suspects identified: Tether Tyrant and Magmaniac. Bank robbery in progress."
I stood up promptly. "Well, it looks like we're taking a field trip."
Oliver's eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning. "I get to fight?! Real bad guys?!"
"You get to observe," I corrected, tossing him a balaclava mask. "Let's go."
Two minutes later, we were hovering completely out of sight, high above the glass skylight of the First National Bank.
Down below, the scene was chaotic but relatively standard. Tether Tyrant, a guy with a bizarre, living alien vest covered in glowing tentacles, was ripping the vault doors off their hinges. His partner, Magmaniac, was melting the security cameras and keeping the hostages corralled in the lobby by creating a wall of molten slag.
"They're robbing it," Oliver whispered excitedly next to me.
Damn boi, feel a little bit worried at least.
"Mark, let's go! I can drop the lava guy, and you can tie up the tentacle guy!"
I didn't move. I just watched them through the glass.
"Why are we just watching?" Oliver asked, his impatience growing. "They're getting away with the money!"
"Observation," I reminded him quietly. "Look at the hostages. Are they hurt?"
Oliver squinted. "No. Just scared."
"Look at the robbers. Are they threatening to kill anyone?"
"No," Oliver admitted. "The lava guy actually told a lady to move back so her shoes wouldn't catch fire."
"Exactly," I nodded. "They aren't looking to rack up a body count. They just want the cash. They're low-tier. Which makes this the perfect test for you."
Oliver's head whipped around to look at me, his eyes wide. "Wait. Really?"
"Mhhm," I smiled. "Go down there and subdue them. Do not kill them. Show me what you've learned so far."
Oliver didn't need to be told twice. He shot straight down through the skylight, shattering the thick glass into a million pieces.
He landed right in the center of the lobby, cracking the marble floor. Magmaniac and Tether Tyrant jumped back in surprise, raising their hands as the dust cleared to reveal a kid in a balaclava floating two feet off the ground.
"I am here to subdue you!" Oliver announced, his voice cracking slightly as he tried to sound intimidating.
Two seconds and he's already embarrassing me, I face palmed.
Tether Tyrant blinked, looking at his partner. "Is... is this a joke? This isn't really a Supe is it?"
"Who cares?" Magmaniac grunted, his hands igniting with molten slag. "Send him packing and let's go!"
Oliver moved. He remembered my lesson about pulling punches, but his speed was still entirely Viltrumite. He cleared the lobby in seconds, driving a perfectly restrained right hook into Magmaniac's jaw.
It wasn't enough to kill him, but it was enough to send the villain flying across the room, crashing through a teller's desk.
"Hey!" Tether Tyrant yelled. The fleshy tentacles of his alien vest lashed out like whips.
Oliver dodged the first two with ease, laughing confidently as he floated backward. But his lack of experience showed when he focused too much on dodging the tentacles in front of him, and completely forgot to check his blind spots.
Tether Tyrant wasn't just swinging wildly; he was corralling him. Two tentacles snaked around the marble pillars behind Oliver and snapped taut, wrapping around his ankles and yanking him hard to the floor.
Oliver hit the ground with a surprised yelp. He immediately tried to use his brute strength to rip the tentacles off, but the alien muscle was incredibly dense and flexible. While he struggled, Magmaniac pushed himself out of the splintered desk, his jaw bruised but his hands glowing with white-hot, lethal heat.
He stepped over to the struggling kid and raised his hands, preparing to blast him point-blank with a stream of molten lava.
Up on the roof, my muscles tensed, ready to spring into action.
But Magmaniac froze.
The glowing heat in his hands dimmed slightly. He looked down at Oliver, who was thrashing against the tentacles, and then looked over at his partner.
"Tyrant, wait," Magmaniac hesitated, stepping back. "Look at how small he is. He's literally just a kid."
Tether Tyrant frowned, the tentacles loosening their grip just a fraction. "Yeah, I see it. Hell, my nephew is bigger than him."
"I'm not melting a kid," Magmaniac said firmly, completely dropping his fighting stance and extinguishing the heat in his hands. "I signed up for grand larceny, not child murder. Let him go, we'll just take the back exit."
Well, I thought, letting out a slow breath. How about that?
I dropped through the shattered skylight.
I didn't crash into the floor like Oliver. I floated down completely silently, my arms crossed, the black and grey suit absorbing the ambient light of the bank.
The temperature in the room instantly dropped. Magmaniac and Tether Tyrant snapped their heads up. The color completely drained from both of their faces. They recognized the suit from the news. They heard of what I had done to Doc Seismic and his army.
I mean who hadn't? It was practically the talk of Villain circles.
"L-looks like that was a s-smart choice," Magmaniac stammered, raising his hands in immediate surrender. Tether Tyrant instantly recalled his tentacles, taking two terrified steps backward.
"Mark! I had them!" Oliver yelled, jumping to his feet and raising his fists, his Viltrumite pride bruised. "Let me finish it!"
"Stand down, it's over now," I commanded, my voice echoing off the marble walls with absolute authority. Oliver immediately froze, dropping his fists and floating behind me, though he was still glaring at the villains.
I turned my attention to the two terrified robbers. "You had a lethal opening. Why did you hesitate?"
Magmaniac swallowed hard. "He's just a kid, man. We're crooks. We're just trying to make a decent living, we're not... child murderers."
"Decent living," I repeated, looking them up and down. They had decent coordination. They didn't panic under pressure. And, most importantly, they had a moral compass.
"How would you two like to stop robbing banks and get a real paycheck?" I asked.
Tether Tyrant blinked, completely thrown off guard. "...What?"
"Invincible Inc. is expanding its logistics and security divisions," I said smoothly, pulling a sleek, black titanium business card from my belt and tossing it. It embedded itself halfway into the marble floor at their feet. "I offer full medical, dental, legal immunity for past misdemeanors, and a starting salary that makes whatever is in that vault look like pocket change."
Magmaniac pulled the card out of the floor, staring at it like it was a holy relic. "You're... you're offering us jobs? We were just robbing a bank."
"You hesitated," I corrected him. "That means you have limits. I can work with limits. Take that card to the address on the back. Ask for Titan. You're probably familiar with him. Him and Isotope will get you set up with new aliases, a rebrand, and a signing bonus."
Before they could say another word, the wail of police sirens echoed from the street outside. Five squad cars screeched to a halt in front of the bank, officers pouring out with their weapons drawn.
I immediately switched into PR mode. I floated over to the bank manager, who was huddled behind a desk, and flashed a brilliant, camera-ready smile.
"Everything is under control, officers!" I announced loudly as the cops rushed the lobby. "This was a scheduled, unannounced stress test of the local emergency response times, conducted by Invincible Inc.! These two gentlemen are newly hired security contractors."
The lead officer lowered his gun, looking completely bewildered. "A... a stress test? You destroyed the roof!"
"I apologize for that, we had to make it look extremely convincing. Invincible Inc. will wire the funds to cover the damages to the bank's account by the end of the hour, plus a generous inconvenience fee for the hostages," I said smoothly, completely covering for the two villains. "Thank you for your rapid response, officers. Outstanding work."
I grabbed Oliver by the collar of his suit and shot back up through the skylight before anyone could ask any follow-up questions, leaving Magmaniac and Tether Tyrant standing in the lobby with a business card and a completely clean slate.
I dropped us onto the roof of a nearby skyscraper, letting go of Oliver's collar. He immediately crossed his arms, floating a few inches off the gravel, his face twisted into a furious pout.
"I had them," he grumbled, kicking a pebble. "If you hadn't stopped me, I would have broken out of those tentacles and crushed them. And why'd you give bad guys jobs?"
"Because they aren't just 'bad guys'," I said, walking over to the ledge and looking down at the city. "Did you see what happened when the lava guy had a clear shot at you?"
Oliver stopped pouting, his brow furrowing as he thought about it. "He... he turned his fire off. He told the other guy I was too small."
"Exactly. He hesitated," I explained, turning back to him. "They had you dead to rights, and they chose to walk away because you're a kid. That hesitation proves they have a line they won't cross. They were robbing that bank because they needed money, not because they wanted to hurt people."
I walked over and put a heavy hand on his shoulder. "People are complicated, Olive-boy. If they were mindless monsters, I would have let you take them apart. But they showed humanity. Understanding someone's motives makes dealing with them a lot easier. Sometimes, the most efficient way to defeat an enemy is to help them re-establish their purpose. You observe, you understand, and then you make your move. Got it?"
Oliver stared at me for a long moment, the Viltrumite aggression slowly draining from his posture as the lesson clicked. He nodded. "Got it."
"Good," I smiled, ruffling his hair. "Now, how bout we go get you a proper suit. That balaclava is doing you zero favors."
Art's Tailor Shop
An hour later, we were standing in the back room of Art Rosenbaum's shop. The legendary superhero tailor was buzzing around Oliver with a measuring tape, looking incredibly stressed by how much the kid had grown in a single month.
"I'm thinking red, black, and yellow," Oliver announced proudly, standing on the fitting pedestal. "With a big 'O' on the chest. I want to be called Kid Omni-Man!"
Art froze, the measuring tape slipping from his fingers. He looked at me, his eyes wide with absolute panic. Given what Nolan had done to Chicago, calling himself 'Kid Omni-Man' was basically equivalent to a PR death sentence.
That'd cause quite the commotion, huh? I thought, suppressing a smirk. The branding on that would be a nightmare.
"Honorable tribute," I said smoothly, leaning against the counter. "But 'Kid' is a terrible moniker. You're growing so fast, you'll be an adult in a few years. You don't want to be stuck with 'Kid' when you're my size, do you? Plus, you need something that sounds bigger. More expansive."
Oliver frowned. "Like what?"
"How bout, something like, Omni-Versal," I suggested. "It still honors the 'Omni' legacy, but it sounds like you're an absolute force like Pops was."
It fits the Invincible Inc. corporate structure, too but he doesn't need to know that, I thought.
Oliver tested the word out, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Omni-Versal. Yeah. I like that! It sounds way cooler than Kid!"
Hehehe, kids are so impressionable.
Art let out a massive sigh of relief, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. "Omni-Versal it is. I'll start drafting the designs, but standard Kevlar weave isn't going to hold up to his speed."
"Way ahead of you, Art," I said, pulling a compressed, vacuum-sealed cube of sleek, metallic fabric from my dimensional storage pouch and tossing it onto his cutting table. "This is a hyper-synthetic weave. It's the same base layer I use for my suit. It regulates thermal output and stretches on a molecular level. Have fun."
Art stared at the alien fabric like I had just handed him the Holy Grail. "Mark... this is... the tensile strength alone..." He practically shooed us out the door. "Go! Come back next week! I need to test this immediately!"
At The Grayson Household
The sun was just starting to set when Oliver and I landed in the backyard of the house.
"Do you think he'll make it with a cape?" Oliver asked, buzzing with excitement as we walked up to the back patio door.
"No capes," I reminded him firmly, sliding the glass door open. "Let's see what Ma made for din—"
I stopped dead in my tracks.
On the living room couch, my mother, Debbie Grayson, was heavily making out with Paul, her new boyfriend. His hands were enthusiastically tangled in her hair, and they were completely oblivious to the fact that we had just walked in.
"Ahhhhhh!" I screamed. "My eyes!"
Oliver peeked around my leg, his eyes going wide. "Why's Paul eating Mom's face?"
Debbie gasped, violently shoving Paul to the other end of the couch. She scrambled to sit upright, her face turning the color of a tomato as she furiously smoothed down her shirt. Paul looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.
"Mark! Oliver!" Debbie stammered, frantically fixing her hair. "We—we didn't hear you come in! We were just... discussing... the new patio furniture!"
"Lady, don't you know you got children?!" I said, falling to my knees. "Starving children at that! I'm going to have to bleach my eyes!"
"Now hold on just a minute! This is a perfectly healthy thing to do!" she responded. "Besides, I should be the one worried about you and that little date you have with Eve on Friday."
"Wha—Whoa! How does everyone know about that?!" I questioned.
"William told me. We have brunch sometimes," she said.
Damn him!
"Now Markus, I know you're a growing boy but please try to wear protect—"
"Ahhhhhh!" I cut her off covering my ears. "Stop! Stop! Please!"
I quickly reached out, grabbed the handle of the sliding glass door, and pulled it open.
"We're getting pizza," I told Oliver, grabbing him and launching back into the sky before anything else came out her mouth.