Chapter 48 - My SI Stash #48 - Marvel Mutant in DC by Grey Dragon (DCU) (1/2)

-Here's a DC SI Fic for you shashank_bhatt & Zyga. Maybe you'll like it, SI is a Marvel Mutant. His father is Count Vertigo and he's no Drake Malfoy, btw.

Sypnosis: ???

Rated: M

Words: 110K

Posted on: forums.spacebattles.com/threads/marvel-mutant-in-dc-oc-in-au-dc.723367/#post-54634522 (Grey Dragon)

PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)

-I'll be putting the chapter ones of all the fanfics mentioned, to give you guys a sample if you wan't more please do go to the website and support the author! (And maybe even convince them to start uploading chapters in here as well!)

Chapter 1.1-1.12

It took a good seven years to realise I had been reborn on a death world. From the Detective Comic franchise.

Currently my only defence is sarcasm. It is all I have, since I have no powers as far as my childish body can display. Of course I have no way to tell which version of DC I am in, so yeah… that sucks. I really hope it isn't a Hellblazer version, because those suck for everyone involved.

How do I know this? Because the US map has clearly noted major cities called Metropolis and Gotham.

Of course I can't be surprised that the iconic heroes aren't around, with the exemption of Wonder Woman, Dr Fate, Red Tornado and the Original Flash and Green Lantern who were active back during World War Two and then mostly fell into silence.

Which brings us to the present; myself a young boy of twelve. It's 1989 and still no sign of Superman or his alternate versions (Communist/British/Crimelord). The version that appears should clarify whether I'm in a timeline/universe that is horrible or merely dangerous.

Unfortunately I'm not an American citizen or from my original birthplace of Australia… I live in Vlatava… a tiny Eastern European country… the one that has just one particularly annoying character in residence: Count Vertigo.

Which brings to the fore my other problem: he's my father. Yep, I'm the firstborn son of a genuine Super Villain (he wishes, he's just a step above mook tier at best, but supremely arrogant).

Mom pawned me off on nannies and tutors since my birth and since I'm somewhat less childish than is normal (being reincarnated sucks, so boring...) I got sent off to boarding school years ahead of schedule. I barely see her more than twice a year, usually just to be trotted out to the royal court and my accomplishments drunkenly rubbed in the faces of the other nobles.

Dad is no better, he spends his time with harebrained scheming and nothing I do is good enough. At least I see him even less than my absentee lush of a Mom.

As a result I have a lot of stress and anger issues. And my general education is complete already.

Oh yes, and my aunt who is still only a year old is set to inherit the throne. Because that stuff is catnip to Game of Thrones rejects like Dad.

The worst part? His first idea to cut the royal family a member short: trick me into doing the deed with a 'special' gift for the infant. I smelled a rat as soon as he asked me to come home, since I currently was relaxing before college at my private chalet (technically Dad's but only I use it). I mean I had only met him in a personal setting twice. So it was a big deal.

I knew better than arguing with the scheme, he was just as brutal to me as anyone else who got in his way. The first time I embarrassed him by spilling a drink in public he beat the five year old me with a riding crop… I still have the scars. I could see the murder in his eyes as he gave me the wrapped gift of the princess.

But screw the old bastard, I wasn't going to be a tool.

I opened the box and replaced the adorable stuffed rabbit with a store-bought replica I slipped out the castle to buy in the few hours before her birthday ceremony. I burned the original in a rarely used fireplace, since it was probably poisonous or infected with cholera or something just as ridiculous.

It was the following day, when I passed my father in the hall with a look of barely concealed fury aimed my way that I decided I had over played my hand. Probably because the baby was still alive and pictured on the newspaper hugging her gift.

I stole a handful of Mom's better jewellery and skipped town on my acc_u_mulated pocket-money… I had been saving for the eventuality I'd become a runaway. Just as well Dad was by no means able to judge a decent amount for a child's spending. I had a nice amount in US bills, it rounded down to three hundred thousand. I used the same Swiss bank he did for added security.

Unfortunately I couldn't get very far, since Dad had control over the military. I walked right into the border guard.

And so, boom! No more cushy homes or learning, he shoved me into his private dungeon.

If I had been an angry child before, now I was pissed off.

I had nothing to do, besides walk around, jangling my chains. I settled on attempting magic, since that was real here. I had no clue so I tried a variety of things, spilling blood, drawing symbols, entreating beings and forces I knew or suspected existed. For example the Green and Red.

In the end sometime later, several months I believe, I stumbled across what at first appeared to be an optical illusion. Straining I could move the dust in the air. I thought this was a display of telekinesis, I was wrong. After several days flexing this 'muscle' I found it had more effect on my chains. I could rattle them with a slight effort.

Unfortunately they were bolted to the cell wall, so I couldn't see much use for this, at first. Then some time later I managed to lift the chain with my mind. I had realised my power was magnetism or something like that… when I first pushed my growing frustration and hatred into my attempt and found myself 'floating'. Technically my bound wrists and ankles were holding me in the air as my powers lifted the metal.

Now only one character I could name had power that was similar to this; a Marvel character, Magneto. Now this actually made some sense, since if I was the victim of a wild ROB being a Marvel mutant means maturing into powers around adolescence. Metahumans in DC can happen at any age. Magneto's awakened in outrage to Nazi atrocities. And they were strong. Near the bottom of the upper tier of all Marvel characters, reaching Omega level or just under it. Which still doesn't compare to being a bullshit Kryptonian. But it has it's moments.

The sad thing about being a captive of my own father, he thought it was appropriate punishment. The equivalent of being locked in my room. So aside from receiving high quality meals, I was left to rot.

If nothing else every day was helping my growing hatred of everything Vertigo related, pushing my powers both in range and force.

Sneaking back into the castle proper, from the literal dungeon I observed changes. I could sense the metal objects around me for the entirety of my range. From copper wires in devices and walls for power to the steel trophies of distant, tacky ancestors. Swords, rapiers and suits of armour. I found the old armoury, with Dad's equipment in a sealed room. His favourite rapier, a pistol and costume. The door opened when I unlocked it, even if it was more complex than the average lock I had encountered.

I found little that I could claim, the whole suits were too large. Aside from a set of bracers and greaves. Just my size, if a touch dusty after years buried under junk in a corner. A touch rusty too, but my purposes were far simpler. I wasn't using them for more than anchors for my power to lift me.

I sensed the various people around me as concentrations of flowing iron and electrical signals that originated from their blood and nerves. Apparently I had tripped a low tech alarm switch (a bell at the end of a string!) entering the armoury. I sensed gun-barrels of rifles belonging to the houseguards as they stacked up in the hallway beside the door.

Well, cornered as I was I used my powers on a large, complete suit of armour. The heavy, solid steps of my puppet must have startled the guards, since their hearts were racing as it strode out of the armoury to face them, holding a spiked mace.

The guards shouted at the puppet to get on it's knees and surrender as they raised their rifles, preparing to fire. I pulled down on the gun barrels and they fired at the floor, yelping in surprise. Then a metal gauntlet met face, dropping their captain. I grinned, having the metal suit point at the next and raise the mace in a ready stance and charge.

The guards yelped and scattered, the mace clipping the slowest on the shoulder and breaking it, if the huge surge of nerves firing from there indicated agony.

I followed along, letting the suit act as my distraction as I searched for my room and my belongings. The room was as I left it, clean and empty. My clothes were small on me now, a growth spurt in my cage, I reasoned. I wasn't sure about my bank account's safety now, but the papers and codes were still in my bag. My original bugout kit was in my cupboard, the one I was caught trying to escape with. Mom's jewels were gone, but otherwise it was the same as when I packed. I discarded the lunchbox that was a fungus farm now, but the clothes aside from being musty were acceptable.

I added a pair of fire pokers and my ski mask, in the sides of the case and using the metal levitated it out the window, before following. I wasn't going to start a fight now with Daddy Dearest. I wasn't strong enough. I wasn't certain I could stop bullets yet, never mind the big stuff. I needed time. Rising into the darkening sky I reached out with my power and caught the tail of a passing passenger plane, being towed by it to where ever it would land with a good deal of hope for the future.

As I flew, I hurriedly threw on heavier clothes as the plane began to climb. No wonder Magneto had a solid looking costume with a cape, it's freezing up here.

Paris.

I followed the flight to the home of Revolution and Freedom, arriving just after dawn. It was a beautiful place.

Nothing leapt out as out of the ordinary, as far as I could see. However my first stop was in the seedier alleys. I needed untraceable cash. So I followed my senses, even if their range was only a few hundred feet, they extended through anything non-magnetic. Such as brick and plaster walls. I looked for stashes of guns. Because where firearms were gathered illegally, thugs abound. When I found a good supply, some fifteen handguns and a dozen rifles in a crate I knew I was in the right place.

I stashed my baggage on a roof and assessed the five criminals. One seemed particularly ugly, a knuckle dragging brute if my senses were accurate. A meta? Venom user? Well I was going to find out. I pulled on my balaclava, from my skiing days in the chalet. I had shoved it into my bag as a last minute extra, since I knew I would need it. To play the vigilante hero incognito.

The modest warehouse was filled with loitering thugs, as the front door unlocked, opened and tore off the hinges, to fly across the street outside. I floated down, hovering in the doorway with a smirk arms outstretched.

”On your knees, criminals. Or be shown your place, at my feet!” I ordered in French.

The thugs were still trying to decipher my orders when the quickest thinker shouted at them to attack. I laughed, folding my arms as I hovered waiting for them.

One drew a switch-blade… and the device fell apart in his hands and pulled away from his grip, as I watched impassively. The knife and it's components reformed in the air beside me. It spun down and buried in his upper t_h_i_g_h, causing the criminal to whimper and then scream as he collapsed.

”Next.” I stated calmly. I had such a high level of battlefield awareness, more than a bunch of regular criminals could face. I was already planning how to incapacitate them all. I watched as a small round object flew through the air from the far side… the grenade not surprising me at all, as I sent it flying out a window and into the sky. The fragmentation grenade popped several dozen meters in the air, rattling the windows.

I failed a sanity check for a moment as my brain froze… it was a gorilla with a beret and a belt of bullets over his torso.

”Okay… that really hammers home where I am. So Monkey Militia or whatever you call yourself, I'd advise you to surrender. That was a potentially lethal attack for your own subordinates… so I'm feeling a nice rug for my parlour might be in the cards.” I spat out, annoyed. The sharp metal fragments of the grenade swirling down to hover over my hand. I barely caught all of them. They reconnected like a puzzle to show the original grenade shape.

The gorilla growled in anger.

”I am Monsieur Mallah! I am not a monkey, you Neanderthal!” He roared.

”And I'm not Savage, what is your point, Gorilla? I was intentionally being insulting, you do understand that, right?” I sighed. ”If you want acceptance go back to your hidden city, all I know is that for every nice intelligent ape there are ten like you, preying on innocent people.”

He roared again, beating his c_h_e_s_t before charging me. Cables under my control tore out of the walls and ground winding around him. He struggled, trying to tear free of their coils like they were a snake… until a live power line jammed into his lower back. He screeched and then collapsed, smoking slightly. I turned to look at the remaining three wild-eyed thugs. The wires were snaking from every surface in the building, leaving the humans feeling surrounded. Finally the first saw sense and fell to his knees, hands over his head. The other two followed suit almost immediately.

Coinage lifted free from their pockets, inside their wallets. I took what notes and coins they had, one by one as I waited for the police.

Fortunately my formal studies in both French and Italian were near fluent, so I was able to explain my actions clearly to the pair of armed and scared looking first responding gendarmes, who expected a bomb. The Gorilla was above their pay-grade apparently. I made sure they double handcuffed him to a streetlight, just to be sure he stayed caught.

While they debated how to deal with the situation between themselves I floated away silently. Counting my spoils, there was a good three thousand Francs, plus change. My next stop, the quintessential villain bar. I identified this in much the same way, by the fact everyone was armed.

The Noir bar and bistro was surprisingly high quality… I guess in France even the villains have standards about gourmet pursuits. It even boasts a Michelin star… probably through blackmail or open threats, but still… the various toughs inside killed the ambience. Possibly literally, if magic was involved.

Of course, I stuck out like a sore thumb. I'm only thirteen. In clothes too small.

A grizzled looking criminal stepped into my way. His scarred features glowering, as he towered over me by at least two foot. I guess this is how they keep the riffraff out.

Dammit. Can't use my powers overtly.

I guess this means diplomacy.

”Ah, hello good sir. I hope I'm in the right place. A little birdie told me I could get a fake ID here?” I announced, pouring on the charm as I pretended to be looking for something cheap to get alcohol underage… oh wait, this is France… am I underage?

The watching patrons let out a few chuckles and the burly guy standing in my way slaps me on the back and points me to a booth on the far side with a slight smile.

My forger was a chubby man eating some pesto.

”May I have this seat?” I asked as I took hold of the chair opposite. ”I have a business proposition.”

He looked me over for a moment and nodded. ”Hundred and fifty Francs for a fake ID.” He announced.

”No, I want the works. Full identity including birth certificate and passport. As good as you can make it.” I replied, in a business-like manner.

He paused and looked at me a lot more seriously. Finally he named his price. ”Fifteen thousand Francs. It will take five days to get in order.”

”Fine, here is three thousand as a down payment.” I placed the money on the table.

The forger nodded. ”Bring the rest here tomorrow, same time. If you're yanking my chain I'll keep this.”

”I'll be there. Start getting my ID ready. Victor Ignacio Magnus. I don't care about the other details.” Good riddance to being a Vertigo!

Hmm. Now to rob a few more criminals… it's for a good cause, after all.

Chapter 1.3

I'm beat. Five drug-dealers and a mugger later and I'm only half way there. I need a better class of criminal… or quantity. Not to mention I spent all night awake, floating behind a plane to even reach this city.

I crashed at a cheap hotel, after a meal from the DC universe version of McDonald's… O'Shaughnessy's. It was different in subtle ways, like the pickles on the burgers were sweet and the whole place has a heavy Irish theme, four leaf clovers printed everywhere. Really dissonant, when they used most of the same naming practices, like the Big O burger. I was constantly reminded of that giant robot anime… the series which doesn't exist and probably never will here. I always intended to watch that, some day. Shame.

The following morning I took a breather, took it slow. Just enjoying the freedom to go where ever I wanted.

The newspapers told a slightly disturbing story, apparently Mallard? the Monkey had a partner who rescued him from a prison cell with a flying metal drone thing, armed with lasers and shields. And it was page three news. Because apparently Superman had finally done his big catch a car introduction scene from issue #1.

The speculation about his powers was high. I got a round of laughs when I suggested he had X ray vision to a pair of gossiping schoolgirls at a bus stop.

That also means Batman and maybe the Flash are active or about to reveal themselves. Martian Manhunter and Diana are probably still chilling in obscurity. Aquaman is more of a mystery to me, aside from the civilisation he rules being (somewhere) in the Atlantic depths. No signs of the one true Captain Marvel (aka Shazam). Or the Hawks. Or Green Lanterns, beyond original WW2 flavor. Too early for Cyborg (I think) or any of the spinoff heroes. Who am I missing… uh the Robin Hood guy and the robot… Canary? Atom?

What? It has been thirteen years since I last saw anything relevant besides local war doc_u_mentaries.

Hmm. I don't think I'll ever make Bruce Wayne's Christmas Card list. Because I object to his obsessive catch and release policy with mass murdering psychotics. When I get the chance, I'll act on it, too. Because the Joker isn't a human, he's a disease. Okay, so maybe Bruce has a whole slippery slope with murder thing going on, I don't particularly have his issues. Oh, I sure do have issues, but they seem to be more on the overconfidence, anger and arrogance side. Maybe immaturity?

At least I'm aware of them, magic is going to be my main foil I'll bet. The Z family of stage magicians who actually do the real thing… completely slipped my mind. There were others too, after all the whole roster can get get into the dozens. But they're more allies, spin offs and sidekicks that come later.

I certainly don't relish the idea of fighting any of the big bad guys, with the exception of the massive armies of mooks and cybernetic/robotic enemies because my powers were made for massive scale warfare and the perfect counter to lasers, electricity attacks and metal structures/weapons. And that is beside the fact, my power isn't exactly magnetism. There are other components. Sure, the big things with magnetic fields are easy, the other stuff doesn't come quite as easily. But then, lead isn't highly magnetic. Yet Magneto clearly can stop bullets like they are no big deal and manipulate other less reactive materials like gold, silver, etc.

So my power is only fractionally magnetism, I really want to see the look on Batman's face when he tries to counter me. Not if, but when. Using non magnetic materials for tranq darts will be his first choice followed by tranquilliser gas. After that it will be hairier, but I fully intend to invest in tech of my own to beat some of my more human weaknesses.

Magneto's best trick is that everything physical has a natural magnetic field, even seemingly magnetically inert objects and their field can be exaggerated by deliberate manipulation. Even planetary bodies. I'm still learning how to fly using just my natural magnetic field to repel against the Earth's, no metal involved. But beyond that I've noticed a faint amount of gravity manipulation and perhaps pure telekinesis in the form of light reflective shields. In fact my shields come surprisingly easy too but they are impermeable at the moment. If I use one as a bubble I'll eventually suffocate. I tested it on bugs while in my cell. I'm going to need to read up on my physics if I want to really use my powers to their full potential. But I have already discovered a killer move, courtesy of a Certain Technological Railgun… ball-bearings, nails, screws and small change are converted into deadly bullets in my range. If I work at it, I'll have an artillery scale attack.

Maybe once I've gained a great deal better control I can rip the iron out of a person's bloodstream, killing them instantly like Magneto did in that movie. A brute force method to be sure, but perhaps a necessary final resort.

Telepathy has always been an issue with Magneto, but then again this was because his greatest friend/rival/enemy/peer Xavier was a supreme telepath. I'm not nearly as worried by Martian Manhunter or human psychics, they are far more limited in this universe compared to Marvel, subtler perhaps but definitely weaker. Magneto was also supposed to be a minor telepathic talent, with superior mental defences… able to use Cerebro even. I doubt I possess the defences, since they are a learned ability… but his helmet, or a similar device will be useful in the long run. Magic wards most of all though. Telepathic training is something to invest in, because I can't sense much from that side of things. Xavier probably definitely helped there. Magneto was likely not a self taught telepath.

I guess I'll have to deal with Dad sooner or later. If only to get revenge for my Aunt. I mean, I assume she's dead by now, since he's had every opportunity to finish the job in the last half year I was imprisoned. How much of a bungling incompetent must he be to have failed to kill a one year old for that long?

... am I giving him too much credit? He is a supervillain after all.

But enough daydreaming on a bus. Time to go out and do my thing.

Hello, seedy looking guy with a pair of bodyguards. Armed guards, one even has a sawn off double barrel shotgun in a holster… which is very illegal. The other has a pair of revolvers, one in a holster under his left armpit, the other strapped on his left leg.

I suspect organised crime immediately.

Jumping off at the next bus stop I circle back, taking to rooftops with levitation from an alley. I close on them with my senses once again, still on the street waiting for something. A luxury car, it resolves a few minutes later. All three jump in, joining the driver, a slim looking guy.

They pull away, heading towards a warehousing district. I pull on my balaclava and hover from roof to roof in pursuit. The number of armed guards patrolling at the warehouse is troubling. I flit overhead and descend to the roof of the warehouse for a closer look. I make a peephole in the metal roof.

Stack of goods…

A bunch of people at the far end.

And a manager's section partially walled off.

Oh, that's not good. A captive.

A blonde, in white bodysuit. Her face is a mess, dripping blood onto the fleur-de-lis symbol on her c_h_e_s_t. Tied to a chair. As I watch a sleazy guy backhands her roughly once again. Well, enough of that.

The roof is corrugated iron, the support struts are steel. I smile.

With a shrieking groan, the roof tears open as I float slowly inside. The place is without question, a drug factory. Some kind of powder. There are five whole rows of dozens of people seated, weighing and measuring their product. A production line.

Sleazy Interrogator pauses to stare open-mouthed as I focus on him, raise a hand and then gesture. A steel beam sweeps past, taking his feet out from under him from behind so he falls. The next beam stops, to rest on his right arm… and I let go. He squeals as the seventy kilos of steel presses down hard above the elbow. The next three are placed to hold him down by the other arm and legs.

I sweep a glance at the fleeing chemists, before bolting the doors and distorting the locks. My gaze passes over piles of money, some in the process of being sorted. I turn to the woman, to find she is already free and warily watching me. So she has acting skills, was playing possum I see. A superspy type? Ninja?

The thug curses under his improvised cage. I look at the elegant looking lady and wink.

”Hello there, criminal. Now you have two choices, you tell me everything about this factory and who it involves… and you get to live. Otherwise, I'll be showing you a cheap and cheerful alternative to the guillotine.” I point upwards to yet another beam hovering near the roof, casting a shadow over his neck.

The woman raises an eyebrow at the threat, but her captor begins to spill his guts. I'm not really that interested, it was for her benefit after all. I even ask after he falls silent if she has anything else he can elucidate. But other than a few finer details, he gave her all she wanted.

Since the thug is being a good sport, I remove the threat of dismemberment.

With a squeeze I bend the beams over his body, turning them into shackles buried in the concrete floor.

I hold out an arm. ”May I offer you a lift, Miss?”

With a cheerful laugh she takes my arm in a tight grip. Ugh, a little too tight. She's stronger than I am, by quite a bit. But then my arm is currently buried in her not insubstantial b_r_e_a_s_ts, so I'll deal. A trade off of sorts.

And… liftoff. Trailing along behind me, a set of tweezers holding a stack of thousand Franc notes.

Sue me, I want to showoff for the mystery woman. Sure, she's out of my league, I mean the age difference alone… I'm barely a teen.

I rise high into the air, spinning to offer a view in all directions, before asking the age old question of all taxi drivers. ”Where to?”

The lady points downtown and I oblige at a sedate pace.

”I'm Fleur-de-lis. While the help wasn't strictly necessary, it is appreciated.” She announced.

Okay, the symbol was literal. Her voice is nice, with a smooth quality. S_e_xy as hell too. Ugh… stupid hormones. Focus!

”Hmm. I hadn't really given much thought to a name yet… I suppose… Metal Storm?” I laugh at her bemused look. ”I know, I'm not subtle.”

”How did someone as young as you get such, how should I say it, excessive power?” She queried. ”I have seen magic, technology and even powers, but yours is shockingly high.”

I shrugged. ”Compared to the Superman in Metropolis, I'm a small fish.”

Her eye quirked again. ”You know him?”

I smiled. ”Better than the press. With one exception.”

”Oh?” She asked.

”Lois Lane, the author of the original article. He has his eye on her.” I explained.

”Ahh. L'amour. The classic tale.” She exclaimed, before returning her interest back to me. ”So you are the one who captured the Ape?”

”Yes, even if he has already been freed.” I paused. ”I wonder what he was doing here.”

”I can answer that… he was responsible for several bombings last week, including the Louvre. You no doubt found his safe-house, as he waited for exfiltration.” She explained.

”Ah. How many casualties? I had no idea.” I asked, dreading the answer.

”Fifteen people, including a cadre of famous scientists and three school children.” She softly answered.

I flinched.

Shit.

Next time I see the ugly bastard, I'll be have monkey stew for dinner. Or several dogs will, at least.

The rest of the flight was awkwardly silent.

Chapter 1.4

Fleur-de-lis requested to be let down on an out of the way apartment building. I didn't ask, but it was a safe assumption this wasn't her home, just a safe place to disembark away from prying eyes.

Before I could float away again, she gave me her thanks for the rescue… a lengthy kiss… and just as French as herself. I keep feeling my cheeks heat up at the memory, as I retreat at high speed from the beautiful woman waving after me.

I had to take a moment, just to process that final shock. It left be in stitches, after realising she was toying with me a little. Playing me for her own amus_e_m_e_nt. I must have looked the White Knight… a child playing cops and robbers. Which amuses me, I'm not so innocent. I flicked through my newly acquired riches, counting twenty five thousand Francs from the drug money. I nodded and floated back to my favourite villain watering hole, Noir Bar and Bistro.

I walked in with a slight c_o_c_ky swagger to my steps… I guess I'm a little pleased with myself.

The big bouncer/criminal that stopped me last time recognised me and nodded. I did in reply, heading towards my personal forger.

He looked up from a plate of fettuccine alfredo, as I slapped down his final payment on the table, in an envelope.

Fl_i_c_k_i_n_g through the amount he finally nodded and slid an address across the table. ”Come to this location in three days. Your purchase will be there. Look for a red umbrella.”

I smiled. ”Not good enough.”

Taking a coin from my pocket I placed it on the table. I made it spin with a flick of my wrist. ”Now I want you to watch carefully.” I suggested at the already disgruntled man. The coin stopped spinning suddenly. He paused faintly surprised, then he looked much more surprised as it began to spin again, faster and faster making a faint whirring sound as it drilled into the wood. It cut through the table in a few seconds and fell, only to rise glowing red at the edges to hover over my hand.

”I want you to understand I am a very dangerous person. The forces required to drive a coin through a table like that are far less than I need to place the same coin inside your skull.” I laughed as the bar was a good deal quieter. ”You have your money, I don't want anything more than what I have ordered. If I find you have cheated me, then things will get messy.”

Several people in the restaurant stood up.

”Don't move.” I said loudly. There was a faint click from each person, as the safety of their pistol was switched off and the hammer pulled. ”Or you'll learn a new definition of 'friendly fire' as that gun you're carrying empties into you.” I looked at a particularly stupid thug. ”Especially this idiot, who placed a loaded gun next to his c_o_c_k.”

The idiot in question, a few tables away squirmed and paled.

”Now, I didn't mean to kick up a fuss… but bear in mind I am more than prepared to be rude. If the forger I have hired skips town or tries to escape with my money… well I will be back and I will be looking at all of you fellows to repay me in his stead.” I gave them a bright smile, one of the few good things I got from Dad, a gleaming perfect smile. ”So please make sure my investment doesn't do anything silly and I will have no need to ventilate you with your own weapons.”

I stood up and then hovered my way out the front door.

Pausing I looked back inside. ”Whose motorbike is that outside?”

Several people looked at Crotch Gun's table. His keys floated out of his pocket and over to my hand. ”Hey…!” He yelped.

”It's mine now.” I nodded to myself. ”Bye.”

Really swiping the guy's bike was just for the street cred. I had no clue about how to ride it, but then again my power basically trumped any need to learn. I threw a leg over the highly polished and well loved machine, one that looked very expensive in a glossy red with black trim.

I pulled my balaclava down over my head, raised the kickstand, started the engine and gunned the engine roaring away. I was free at last! I continued to switch gears as I accelerated, judging by the movements of the internal mechanisms when to shift gears at just the right moment. I met Paris traffic quickly, before I ignored it entirely by rocketing off into the sky as I roared with laughter.

I left the engine purring as I zoomed through the city on a joy ride, racing news helicopters before leaving them in the dust, by turning the bike into a railgun bullet while riding it.

Now feeling a bit better, after finally cutting loose I turned to return to my cheap hotel room for yet another night. Oh wait, before that… I floated through the drive through of O'Shaughnessy's on my bike, just for the teller's look of surprise.

Ah, blessed Soder, dimensionally displaced brother to Coke: you quench my thirst just the same!

Chapter 1.5

I woke up with a broad grin on my face. A free day!

Tomorrow I'll check on my bank account, I'm stalling on that just in case Poppa Vertigo will use it to track me. I still have a bundle of cash to spend, so why not get myself a complete wardrobe change. Hmm. Knowing comic book logic, the bank I visit will be robbed/held hostage while I'm there in some fashion.

So a show, while I wait.

Breakfast at a small cafe nearby is nice as I read about my own exploits in the newspaper.

They got a great picture as I took a corner climbing beside a skyscr_a_p_er. They're calling me 'Balade'. This translates to Joyride in French. Some of the article is dedicated to simple wonderment and while there is some grumbling about my intruding in restricted airspace, my aid in capturing the Ape and bringing down a drug syndicate is noted… looks like Fleur is pulling some strings to keep me portrayed in a positive light.

Gotta love DC, almost everyone in the news business loves a highly visible and colourful heroic persona. So much better than being subjected to Marvel's J. Jonah Jameson or the irrational mutant haters.

Of course that means I'm going to have to live up to some of the hype. So I suppose I'll do some patrolling for the afternoon. At least they haven't been able to move my (stolen) bike from where I parked it… magnetically attached to the peak of the Eiffel Tower. God… I just realised I'm a juvenile prankster with too much power.

The following three hours spent collecting casual and formal wear is a slightly boring affair, aside from collecting what must be one of the first Superman T-shirts ever sold.

Lunch is at a more upscale restaurant, since if you come Paris and pass up the food you are wasting a good deal of the experience. I don't expect to stay here for very long.

I manged to find a pair of solid bracelets made out of steel. Those will make my secret identity much less obvious than the set of bracers I wear under my jacket if I'm in public or go through metal detectors. I find the steel shoes are redundant, so I replace those with comfortable leather shoes. I only need the bracelets to float after all… it just tires my arms out putting all my weight on them as I levitate. When I get a proper costume I'll find appropriate shoes.

The only crime I see during this time is a pair of shoplifting kids filling their sweaters with clothes. As they attempt to leave, I move an aluminium can under the leader's foot at the exit sending the boy sprawling, with his stolen merchandise spilling all around him.

Swapping out my regular clothing for obvious costume elements such as the balaclava and bracers, a long coat and for my amus_e_m_e_nt, the Superman T-shirt proudly on display.

First stop was collecting my motorbike from the top of the Eiffel Tower, currently collecting quite a selection of visitors. Apparently someone in the government has a sense of humour also, as I found a new sign added that proclaimed the tower was a no parking zone. And my bike had a ticket.

My audience tried to get my attention, those who weren't filming me. I just waved in passing and moved over the city in an expanding spiral, keeping an eye out for anything serious. A three car pileup at an intersection was my first find. No serious damage, it was just blocking traffic as the drivers argued over blame. So I shifted their vehicles out of the way and moved on.

Next, a few minutes later, I found a construction site in disarray and ambulances arriving.

An accident, a truck rolled trapping the driver and slamming a worker into a pipe, which had impaled him, like an insect in a display. The worker was critical, with three inches of copper through the right side of his c_h_e_s_t. They couldn't reach the base of the pipe without shifting the guy.

Well, damn. This needed my help.

I moved lower, until the workers trying to free their colleague noticed.

Some took offence, thinking I was just here to be trouble. I looked for the paramedics.

”Get back from him, I'm going to cut the pipe free.” I explained.

”Don't pull it out! He'll bleed to death in seconds!” They misunderstood.

”No like this.” I pulled a smaller pipe to my hands to demonstrate, tapping one end caused it to split in two, sliding in half along a mono-molecular edge fashioned by opposed magnetic fields of tremendous force inside the same pipe. The two halves of a pipe floated down.

”Okay… can you cut the pipe below the injury, by at least three inches?” The medic asked, slightly fazed.

”Done.” He looked at me. ”I mean, I just did it… get moving!” He jumped into movement, with the help of the workers carrying the injured man to an ambulance.

I turned my attention to the flipped truck.

”Move back, I'm going to right it!” I shouted. The workers did as I asked, and with a gentle tug pulled it onto it's wheels.

The driver shouted in pain, as his right arm came free from being pinned under the truck crushed and spraying blood I sent a length of copper wire to act as a tourniquet until the paramedic on his case asked for it to be removed as he applied his own.

I let out a sigh of relief as the second man was sent on his way by the ambulance.

To my surprise I found I was receiving applause. The entire worksite was cheering.

A trifle unnerved, I gave a mock salute and flew away… to find an older building on fire and no fire fighters yet.

Sigh.

A close assessment showed there were no people inside and only a single floor being affected.

I threw a barrier around the source and waited a few minutes for the fire to suffocate and extinguish itself.

The fire brigade had arrived by then, but stayed back at my warning to give the room time to air out the deadly pocket of carbon monoxide I had created in the fire's termination.

They found a few spot fires I missed and got to work, the source it turned out was an oven.

It was night when I finally called it a day, parking my bike on a rooftop I began the flight back to my hotel room, with a pizza for dinner. I was hopping rooftops, to keep out of sight when it happened.

I was surprised when a voice from a short few feet away spoke. I turned in surprise, since I couldn't sense nerves… just some iron rich blood. I thought it was water in the gutters.

”Well, I seem to have found a local celebrity?” The voice had remarked.

From the corner of my eye I noticed a dark form, eyes from within a hood made my mind swim. I barely noticed, as I fell toward the pavement.

Chapter 1.6

The ground was three stories below as I dropped like a stone.

It took a few moments to see the ground rushing toward me. Longer to recognise it as danger. Another moment or two to begin the process of repelling myself from it… too late. I shifted my momentum at an angle at the last moment, sending myself tumbling on the pavement.

Ugh… damn that hurts. I think I sprained my left wrist. My head is sore too and the mask feels wet.

What happened? I was just floating, then… falling?

I can only sense three people, all of them in the surrounding buildings. Wait… there you are! Running toward me from the street. Maybe it jumped down.

”You just made a mistake!” I growled as the nerveless thing rushed me.

Everything around me made of metal became my weapon in that moment, mostly garbage at first.

”What is this?!” The red figure hissed as a cloud of debris made impact. The being, most likely an undead since it didn't have nerves or a live human brain.

The figure was blinded by the cloud of everything magnetic, ranging from iron rust in powder form to aluminium cans. However this was simply a distraction. A smokescreen, blocking view of the dumpster I launched hard.

Vamp in red took the hit with some shock, as he was sent stumbling back on the pavement. But he got up again a moment later. Probably due to his unnatural physiology. Low level super strength and durability? That would have smeared a regular human across the pavement. I think. Peak human fitness is absurdly exaggerated in DC.

His form bulged before he shed his robes and came in a second charge at me, in the form of a large wolf.

I sent several lengths of gutter from the roofs down like javelins.

He was faster than I anticipated, I had to throw a semi-circular barrier up to protect my throat as he lunged forward, fangs snapping. He bounced back from hitting the solid shield of energy and that moment was enough to bring the gutters down on him in a wave. With a crunch he became a pincushion, but to my great disp_l_e_a_s_u_r_e refused to die.

The dumpster rose, before crushing him down. Again and again.

”Why are you after me?!” I demanded, but distantly I already knew. Why else?

”To make you my subordinate.” The thing rasped.

My mind went hazy for a moment before I turned my head and shook the cobwebs away… hypnosis? Shit. He almost got me. Again.

”You wanted me to be your slave?” I asked, sheer outrage boiling at the thought of escaping the captivity of Vertigo only to be caged again. ”Well let me be frank, as one monster to another… you chose poorly.”

”You fool, this cannot kill me...” He began to rant.

I'm sorry, I don't care who you are or how you think.

Die.

He exploded into chunks as the metal embedded in his body went several directions at the same time.

”Brother!” A shrill female voice screamed.

Which gave me just enough of a location to send a swarm of roof nails into her. She squealed before ducking out of my range.

”Sneaky, sneaky.” I chided. ”You really blindsided me here.”

Below the chunks of Red Robe had fallen still. I rose slowly, floating up as I focused on the second vampire. It was running in fear. I followed with a burst of acceleration.

The last thing she heard was a whooshing sound, as a manhole cover decapitated her. I returned the cover, so it could resume it's duties on the street keeping people from falling into the sewers.

Just to be sure I stabbed a length of wood, hastily made from a tree branch into each vampire's heart. Then threw their remains into the River Seine.

Following this I shifted hotels, using a different fake name and cash. I must have been too obvious coming and going from the vicinity of that particular hotel. Or they scryed for me, magic vampires after all…

New plan, buy or steal magic after I get my bank account in order. Some kind of mental defence.

Where does one find real magic artefacts anyway?

...

Antique store. Has to be. Look for the shabbiest thing in the store.

Hopefully it isn't a horribly cursed monkey's paw. Chances are, it will be.

Chapter 1.7

Day Four.