Tun-tun-tun-tun-turu-tun... I sat up slowly, killed the alarm, and headed for the bathroom. My brain felt like it had been through a laundry cycle.
What the hell was I dreaming about? For the second time since yesterday, I'd been seeing "childhood memories." But they weren't mine. I was seeing Japan—a place I have never visited in either of my lives.
Great. I'm dreaming Tomo's life now. I'm literally "experiencing" his backstory like some high-speed recap. Is it because time moves faster in dreams? Or is the System just dumping his fragmented data into my skull?
What's scarier is that part of me is starting to accept these memories as my own. I'm talking to myself out loud now.
"Fusion is a bitch."
The progress is only at 38%. In my last dream, I reached the part where Tomo's parents left him with relatives. That means I have about seven years of memories to go before I reach the part where he starts sleeping with his foster family.
Why am I even thinking about this? Am I looking forward to the "erotic dreams"? Shut up, brain.
I spent all of Sunday in "meditative" mode, keeping a journal of my internal changes.
First: my palate. I'm craving rice. Plain, boring rice. And more fish. Meanwhile, the amount of dairy I usually eat is starting to feel... excessive.
Second: memory dissonance. I divided a page in my diary into three columns. I now have three moms, three dads, three sisters, and an older brother. I have six sets of grandparents. My family tree is a goddamn forest.
If anyone ever finds this journal, I'm getting sent to Arkham.
Third: I'm now fluent in elementary-level Japanese and etiquette. Silver linings, I guess.
Finally, the most problematic change: my attitude toward Michelle. I caught myself looking at her... "differently." More evaluative.
"She's your third cousin, you moron!" I slapped myself across the face. Hard.
I need to get out of the house. Tomorrow, I'm running to Metropolis.
The welcome sign for Metropolis blurred past. I slowed down to a brisk, super-speed walk, enjoying the cool breeze.
Metropolis is the polar opposite of Gotham. Gotham feels like it wants to mug you; Metropolis feels like a showroom. Everything is bright, glassy, and well-maintained. It's like the city is on a constant high of "Responsibility."
Crime report? In Gotham, I found four felonies in an hour. Here? Two hours of searching the "shady" areas yielded absolutely nothing.
Until... A-ha! A kid about my age decided to snatch a woman's purse. Finally, some action!
I summoned my gear, blurred toward the runner, and held out an ice-coated fist at stomach level.
Oof. The kid hit my hand like a bird hitting a windshield. He crumpled to the ground, wheezing.
(I wonder if the Flash actually knows how to fight, or if he just relies on physics doing the work for him?)
I froze his legs to the pavement. The shock actually helped him find his breath. He stared at his feet, then at me, then at the recording crowd.
"Miss, I believe this is yours?" I handed the purse to the stunned woman.
"Help! Save me! A freak is attacking me!" the little thief shrieked. Creative.
I leaned over him and summoned a three-foot icicle, driving it into the asphalt an inch from his right ear. The silence was instantaneous.
"Shut up, Vincent. Wait for the cops, or this icicle finds a home in your tailpipe."
I stepped into an alley, blurred up the side of a building, and watched from the roof. I felt like Batman. I wonder if he uses a grappling hook for that "vanishing" trick.
"Not your wisest move," a deep, resonant voice said behind me.
I spun around. Hovering half a meter above the roof was a tall, muscular man in blue tights and a red cape. No red trunks, though. He was a mountain of a man. Does the yellow sun act like steroids for Kryptonians?
"What? Stopping a crime or scaring the kid so he'd stay put?" I asked, keeping my cool.
"Your desire to play hero," Superman said.
"Says the man in the cape," I countered.
I activated Analyze.
Name: ??? (Clark Joseph Kent / Kal-El?)
Titles: Superman, Man of Steel, Last Son of Krypton...
Alignment: Lawful Good
Level: 58
HP / MP: ???
Level 58. That explains all the question marks.
"You think I'm just some fanboy?" I stepped closer as he landed. "Maybe I'm not following your lead. Maybe I'm following the JSA's. Ever heard of them? No? Not surprising, given how hard the government tried to erase the first team of heroes."
I definitely saw his eyebrow twitch. Score one for meta-knowledge.
"I'm not as 'young and impressionable' as you think, Last Son of Krypton."
"I saw. Interesting abilities," he noted.
"It's not abilities. It's magic. I can tell you don't believe in it... but you should. The world isn't just science and physics. There are forces that don't care about your rules."
"Is that a warning?"
"Advice. You aren't omnipotent. There are things in this world that can bite even you. Be careful." I held out a hand. He took it. His grip was like a vice.
"Superman."
"I don't have a code name yet. Call me Frosty."
We watched the police take the kid away. "You called me the Last Son of Krypton. What does that mean?"
Shit. Should've kept my mouth shut. "It's... a magical mark. Everyone has one. Yours says 'Last Son of Krypton.' I assume Krypton was your home?"
"It was. It's gone."
"I'm sorry," I said. It was genuinely awkward.
"So I am the last?" he asked.
"I don't know. Maybe. Or maybe just the last one born there. Anything is possible."
I headed for the fire escape. "I have to go. And hey, don't believe the street psychics and fortune tellers. Real mages don't do that crap. Good luck."
I hit the Talisman and blurred away before he could ask anything else.
Back in my room, I checked the tape on my door. Untouched. Michelle hadn't checked on me.
I collapsed onto the bed, exhaling. Running two hundred miles in an hour is exhausting. But more importantly...
"God, I sounded like such an edgelord!"
I was acting like a Chuunibyou eighth-grader in front of the Man of Steel. I have a Japanese kid's memories in my head, and it's clearly affecting my coolness factor.
I checked the news. Nothing but "New benches installed in Central Park" and the usual Superman headlines. I found one mention of myself on a bottom-tier Twitter blog.
It's fine. I just knocked out a purse snatcher, I didn't stop a train.
On the bright side: +1 Endurance and Running is now Level 15.
I'll save my Fantasms for now. I have a feeling a new event is coming, and I need to be ready.
[ Endurance increased +1 ]
[ Running Skill: Level 15 ]
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