"Well, here's to us never getting busted with booze at parties again!" Fred's toast was met with universal approval and laughter. We clinked our glasses, downed our soft drinks, and began stuffing our faces with 'Italian cuisine.' Well, 'Italian' is a stretch—Hawaiian pizza tends to trigger a meltdown in purists. Especially the Italians.
"By the way, what happened to you? There wasn't a peep from you for two whole weeks," Dean asked the 'hero of the hour.'
"Yeah, buddy. Where'd you go?"
"I already told you guys," Fred replied, rolling his eyes.
"So, they really took all your gadgets for two weeks and forced you to hit the books for finals?"
"Yes, Dean. And more—I'm still grounded!"
"How so?" I asked, voicing the group's thought.
"Curfew. Until the end of summer, I have to be home by exactly eight. And I need permission to go anywhere." Fred sighed wearily. "For instance, they weren't exactly thrilled about letting me out today. Even with you guys." He emphasized the last words, a subtle reminder of why they were all in trouble.
"That's brutal! Is that even legal?" Dean asked again.
"Legally? No. Practically? You'd better keep your mouth shut if you want them to pay for your college and housing," I answered for my friend, drawing everyone's attention. "Man. And here I thought my punishment was harsh... Well, not counting those who ended up behind bars doing community service." Just outside the window, a couple of familiar faces in orange jumpsuits were visible.
"Funny hearing that from you."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you're the one who won the 'drinking marathon,' but I only had one mug of beer—" Fred ignored the fact that someone had seen him with a glass of 'vodka'— "and I got punished worse! Where's the justice?" Fred complained. What was both annoying and hilarious was that he was right.
"Maybe it's because I walked home on my own feet and didn't end up in the hospital with a simple hangover?" I replied, barely resisting the urge to crack a joke about Russians and alcohol. "Because of that, my parents decided—well, they believed—that I just 'tried a little to be social.'"
"Seriously?" Fred asked, eyes wide.
"I guess. Wait, did I not tell you guys?"
"You drank more than everyone at the party combined, and your parents think you just 'tried it'?"
"You're exaggerating!"
"Dude, you were standing there in nothing but your underwear, glass in hand, screaming 'weaklings' and 'noobs' while your opponents were blacked out or puking on the floor!"
"Wait, what? I did what?! You're kidding, right? I didn't stand there naked in the middle of..."
"No. You were in your boxers—dammit!" My hand instinctively met my face. "Here, see for yourself." Alex smirked, handing me her smartphone. It was a picture of me—nude-ish—holding a flaming shot of something strong. Actually, it was a video...
Slowly, with a sense of impending doom, I tapped the screen. It was the 'Drinking Tournament' finals. Only me and some guy I didn't recognize remained. The guy downed a shot of something so strong it could probably strip paint, then immediately doubled over as his stomach staged a rebellion. I, on the other hand, tossed back another one, jumped to my feet, threw my hands up, and bellowed the aforementioned insults.
I paused the video and handed the phone back to Alex, covering my face with my palms. Did I somehow absorb the soul of Iori from Grand Blue?!
"Why was I in my underwear?!"
"How should we know?" Carl asked. "Though, someone mentioned you stripped because of the 'heat'..."
"This is a lifetime of shame!"
"I disagree. You're a school legend now!" Alex said, gleefully rubbing salt in the wound. "The man who cannot be out-drunk. Ahahaha!" She burst out laughing, and the rest of the table joined in. Except for me.
"That's it! No more hard liquor! Never again!"
"Big words. You sure you can keep them? You have a 'talent,' after all," CJ teased.
"Yes! To hell with booze—it causes nothing but trouble!" Too much trouble. And some of it, no one should ever find out about.
"Yeah..." Fred agreed, looking glum as he went back to his pizza.
"Stop ruining the mood with those sour faces!" Alex snapped. "Celebrate! Our punishments are finally over." Someone coughed, reminding her they weren't all in the clear. "Almost. But we finally managed to get together."
"Easy for you to say."
"Oh, come on. It's not that bad—if you don't remember, Frank had a pool at his place! You jumped into it right after your 'victory.' Actually, I think you'd already gone for a swim before that."
"Frank had a pool?" I vaguely recalled something like that. That changed things; it made the underwear situation slightly less humiliating.
"Yeah. One of those assembly ones. He said they set it up right before the party."
"Except one idiot forgot to warn everyone, so it was mostly just drunk guys swimming in it," Carl added.
"Yikes."
"He was headed for success, but luck wasn't on his side."
"Huh?.." It seemed they didn't get the reference.
"Anyway, since everyone's free now, what are the plans for the rest of the summer?" Dean asked, scrolling through her phone.
"Honestly? No clue," Alex replied.
"Same here," Fred supported the plan for 'boredom.'
"We wanted to go to the Great Lakes, but... plans changed," Carl said sadly.
"Punishment?"
"What? No. Unrelated." He looked around. "My dad's swamped at work because of that recent fight between Superman and that giant gorilla... I think they called it Titano?"
"Yes! That battle was epic!" The table suddenly came to life.
"Did you see him rip off a chunk of a building and swat Superman with it?"
"Or when Superman hit him back with a steel beam!"
"And when their laser beams clashed? It created that glowing red sphere that exploded so hard it almost took out a helicopter!"
"I think the coolest part was when Titano ripped off that giant globe and threw it, but Superman caught it and sent it right back, knocking him off the roof and into the sea!"
"Yeah! Now the Daily Planet has a dented piece of scrap with a gorilla's face where Australia used to be instead of a beautiful globe."
The 'King Kong' of this world had certainly left a mark.
"Hey! What if we all go to Metropolis to see the battle site?"
I had a strange feeling I was forgetting something, like this was a bad idea.
"I'm in!"
"Me too!"
"We'd love to check it out. Maybe we'll even see Superman."
"Girls!" I muttered. Of course, the 'fangirls.' "I highly doubt that." And I hoped I wouldn't. Well, maybe except for his other persona.
"By the way, doesn't your cousin live in Metropolis? Is she coming?" Carl asked.
"Well, yeah... I mean, why do you ask?"
"Doesn't she need to check on her place? The city took a lot of damage," Carl said, and I finally realized what I'd forgotten. "Plus, she could give us a tour."
"Oh, just say you want to see her again," I sniped.
"Maybe. And Fred wouldn't mind meeting her either."
I'd watch out if I were you, Fred. Look at the dark-haired girl instead.
"I don't know. She already asked her friends if the apartment was okay," I said, effectively shutting that down. "So she doesn't have a specific reason to go. But if we need her to, or if we ask nicely, she'll probably agree."
"What do you mean 'need' her to?" Dean asked, confused by the phrasing.
"Unlike us, she's an adult. And she wasn't at that party, so her reputation is 'clean.' In case someone's parents won't let them go without supervision." Fred, don't look at me like that—I wasn't just talking about you.
After the pizzeria, we hung out for a bit—hit the arcade, the mall, and a bookstore where I picked up some manga, some 'Not-Marvel' comics (that studio doesn't exist here, unlike its 'heroes'), and a couple of anime figures. Times were tough for some people, or maybe it was just our small town? After a walk on the beach, we split up. Most went home, but I—under the pretext of wanting more 'freedom air'—went looking for trouble.
Almost.
After checking my surroundings with "Top View" to ensure I was alone, I summoned the armor.
"Beautiful!" I ignored the fact that it was a 'Frankenstein's Monster' of tech from four different worlds plus a magical artifact. "I wonder how much stronger you've become? Or if you even work?.."
I pulled it from my inventory and equipped it. After a brief flash of light, I was inside. The armor felt much more comfortable, though the interface was new. Icons for the new arsenal lined the sides, and new functions appeared in the top left.
"Let's start with the basics." I extended my arms, fired the repulsors, and smoothly lifted off. I did a small loop across the river and back, landing easily. "Smooth. Except for that weird black glow. Is that from absorbing the Shadow Sphere?"
I fired a repulsor blast into the water, triggering an explosion. The dark-purple-black 'glow' was unmistakable.
"Repulsors are perfect—and they seem more powerful." Now for the new tricks. I focused on the first icon: a translucent silhouette against a khaki background. "Suit, activate Cloaking."
A rainbow shimmer washed over the armor, and I became... semi-transparent with a faint reddish outline. Was that the visor making it visible to me, or the limit of the tech? I checked "Top View" again. Instead of a super-suit, I saw a distortion, like heat rising from asphalt.
"Not what I expected, but not bad. From a distance, I'm practically invisible. Useful... until someone uses thermal." Speaking of which.
"Switch visor mode." The icon changed, and the screen shifted to thermal—shades of red, yellow, and white. "Switch visor mode." Everything turned deep blue, except for the grass, which turned... red? "Ultraviolet? Neat. Switch visor mode." The next was a white haze where only the suit showed up black. "If I'm not mistaken, this sees electronics." I summoned my phone, and it appeared as a black rectangle. "Yep."
"Four modes for every occasion. Convenient. Now, what about the weapons?"
I looked at my arms—two barrels each—and the shoulder mounts. Six guns, five types: two pistols, an assault rifle, a shotgun, a minigun (back right), and a grenade launcher (back left). Plus claws and some kind of whip.
"I wonder if cloaking breaks when I fire?" I raised my right fist. The interface highlighted 'Pistol,' 'Assault Rifle,' and 'Claws.' A triangular reticle appeared, tracking my hand. "Shotgun is on the left then. Fire right pistol."
A plasma bolt shot from the center of my forearm. The cloaking flickered momentarily as the bolt hit the water with a splash. Then another, and another. "Weaker than repulsors, but faster and less destructive. And the cloaking stays up. Good."
I tested the left pistol, the assault rifle (a rectangular plate on the forearm that fired 5-6 round bursts), and the shotgun (a similar plate that fired a large, explosive plasma glob).
"And next... uh, it's behind my head..." I muttered. "Activate Shoulder Minigun."
The cannon on my right shoulder swung forward, partially obscuring my peripheral vision. "Fire shoulder minigun."
A wide, flickering beam of energy tore into the water, making it boil and explode. It also disabled the cloaking. Not that it mattered in a full-blown firefight.
"What was that?!" Once the energy cell depleted and began recharging, I stared at the steaming water. "I said MINIGUN, not 'laser'!" It was supposed to fire pulses. Wait... high rate of fire? If it fires fast enough, it looks like a continuous beam.
"Computer, give me the specs on the Shoulder Minigun." A window popped up. 850 rounds per minute. "Right. If an M134 fires 3,000 rounds and every fifth is a tracer, it looks like a laser. This makes sense."
I skimmed the specs for the other guns before checking the last one: the Shoulder Grenade Launcher. It was ten times more powerful than the shotgun.
"Activate Shoulder Grenade Launcher." A triangular barrel, thick as my arm, deployed on my left. I felt a twinge of doubt... but better to fail now than in a real fight. "Fire Shoulder Grenade Launcher."
A massive plasma projectile—the size of a human head—hit the river and exploded with a deafening roar. A pillar of water shot up to the bridge supports, drenching the area in steam and spray.
I had made a VERY big mistake.
While my brain processed the sheer stupidity of firing that here, my body acted on autopilot. I turned and bolted.
"Activate Cloaking!" I barked as I flew away.
A few seconds later, I slowed down. I had flown all the way to the other side of town, near a sign indicating the distance to Metropolis and Gotham. Below me, there was a commotion—someone had failed a turn and crashed into a building. Again. Poor Mr. Fast.
I looked at the sign.
"Why not head to the 'Big City'?" I told Michelle I'd be back by evening, so I had time. I could test the whip and claws later. "I won't catch Batman during the day anyway, so let's go check on Superman!"
I activated the Rabbit Talisman and streaked along the highway.
Honestly? This Titano guy wasn't as big as I thought. Huge, sure—maybe ten times bigger than a normal ape—but not King Kong sized. Still, the destruction was massive. Superman had either tried to minimize damage or was holding back, because the city was wrecked. A dozen skyscrapers were damaged, a couple had collapsed, and the research center (likely the culprit) was a mess.
"A combat android with an optical cloaking system?" A familiar, surprised male voice came from behind me. Since I was hovering at the height of the 80th floor, it could only be one person. Or rather, one non-person.
"Oh, Superman! Long time no see," I said cheerfully, slowly turning around. I wasn't surprised to see him, but it was... nice?
"Do we know each other? I don't recall any of my acquaintances being..." He paused, looking at me strangely. "Frosty?"
"I'm still working on the superhero name, but yeah, it's me. And I appreciate you respecting my 'private life.'"
"You've changed. Your face is different."
"I told you I could change my appearance. Decided to... touch it up a bit."
"I see." The universal answer. "What brings you to Metropolis? To see the results of my fight with Titano?"
"Actually, his name is Toto."
"Toto?"
"Before the incident at S.T.A.R. Labs, his name was Toto. It still is."
"A name, not a nickname. I like your attitude toward animals. At least the sentient ones."
"Uh... thanks." The Man of Steel looked surprised. "But the question stands: What are you doing in Metropolis? In a high-tech combat exoskeleton with cloaking, built-in energy weapons, and a cold fusion reactor?"
"Oh, you mean the armor. Like it?" I wondered if he could see my smirk. "But don't get the wrong idea—just testing the suit to find the flaws." I looked at my hands. "For instance, hovering isn't very comfortable. And the shoulder mounts ruin the aerodynamics. Yeah, I'll need to fix that later." I wonder how many cards that will take?
"So you flew to Metropolis just to test your armor?"
"Well, I was a bit busy and missed the fight with Titano, so yeah."
Silence hung between us. For convenience, I deactivated the cloaking and landed on a rooftop. Superman followed suit.
"So you're good with tech, too?"
"A bit. I can fix a light socket," I joked. "Why? Not what you expected?"
"Honestly? No."
"You think mages can't use tech? That we have some 'taboo'?" I thought about it. "Maybe some old-timers or crazy cults do, but that doesn't mean we can't use it. Even ancient sorcerers."
"Provided magic and mages actually exist."
"Wait. You don't believe in magic?"
"I have my doubts."
"A dangerous misconception. Believe me. Believe in magic, or the lesson might be very expensive."
"Perhaps you could demonstrate? So I don't make a mistake in the future." Was he baiting me into a demo?
"If you insist." I shrugged and held out both hands. "Don't be too alarmed."
A light pulse, and Superman's arm was covered in a thin layer of ice. He looked surprised.
"Cold?" Clark examined the frozen limb before easily shattering the melting ice. "I felt cold?"
"Wait. You... you're vulnerable to magic?" Even though I knew the lore, I had to act the part.
"Vulnerable?"
"Based on your reaction, the cold was a surprise. Do you even feel cold or heat normally?"
"In the Arctic, perhaps."
"The temperature here wasn't nearly that low. That means my spell bypassed your invulnerability!"
"That's..." Superman stopped looking at his arm and seemed to listen to something far away.
"Something wrong?"
"Carjacking and a police chase."
"A bit small-time for Superman, isn't it?" I teased. "Need help?"
"I wouldn't say no."
[Quest: Police Chase]
Help Superman stop the carjackers.
Reward: 25 XP, Variable.
Failure: Variable.
Accept? Yes/No
Are you serious, System?
"One sec, let me change." He gave me a confused look. "What? I'm not revealing the Mark 2 to the world yet. That's my trump card!"
"Fine. Don't fall behind." The Kryptonian drifted up and suddenly streaked forward.
I threw a quick Analysis at him in the last second... Wait, how much HP and Mana does he have?!
[Superman - Level 59]
Health: 18,299,500
Mana: 23,895,500
Are you kidding me?!
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