Chapter 8 (2/2)

Dan didn't read much past that. There were crackdowns, of course. Upgrade technology came out at some point, guaranteeing specific powers. Regulations were put into place, laws were drawn up to target vigilantes, and America's fascination with superheroes died in a ditch, clubbed over the head by cruel reality.

Dans self-improvement plan hit a bit of wall after discovering that. He just couldn't see the point, really. At least he could put to rest his insane dreams of heroism. His life slowly regressed to a convincing facade of normal. If he crossed his eyes and squinted, he could almost pretend that he was back home. Well, aside from the powers, but they were both commonplace and commercialized. He would learn to take them for granted eventually, same as everyone else.

Dan appeared in front of his favorite bagel shop. He had discovered, earlier this week, that he could not teleport to a spot occupied by another person. Both Dan and Marcus were a bit embarassed that neither had thought to check such a thing earlier. It was a very important detail of his power. Regardless, he could jump around town with limited risk of dismemberment. It was getting to the point where Dan forced himself to walk occassionally, just for the novelty of it.

He waited patiently in line, absently noting the physical features of the woman in front of him. Doctor Mercury had not lied to Dan about the state of powers on Earth, but he was wrong in one particular aspect. There were far more useless powers available than the doctor had first indicated. Researching how to manifest a specific upgrade was an expensive and time-consuming process. Marcus believed, because he was an out-of-touch old man, that no one would waste their time developing an almost purely cosmetic upgrade.

He was wrong.

Cat ears, a tail, and claws. Dan recognized the woman's upgrade. Practically speaking, it marginally increased ones hearing, and gave an almost perfect sense of balance. Dan doubted anyone purchased it for that purpose. Most upgrades were refined to the point that physical aspects only manifested themselves while in use. Muscles could swell, skin could turn to steel, eyes could change color and shape to see better at night, things of that nature. The appropriately named Purrfection upgrade used the physical features as a selling point, rather than something to be concealed. It was wildly popular.

People were strange. That, at least, hadn't changed between dimensions.

Dan smiled at the cashier, and paid in cash for his bagels. He had yet to open a bank account, but he really ought to get around to it. At some point his earnings would no longer fit inside his pillow case or beneath his mattress, and then he'd be in trouble.

He stepped outside, leaned against the outer wall of the shop, and closed his eyes. He could feel the transition if he tried: the sun left his skin, the temperature wavered, the sounds of the city disappeared. At least the doctor kept Dan's quarters on Central Standard Time. Delivering breakfast would be a pain in the ass otherwise.

He made the short walk from his quarters to the doctor's laboratory. The polished metal doors fwooshed open as he approached, revealing an immaculately clean workspace, with the doctor nowhere in sight. Dan quickly dropped a bagel on the nearest table, crumbs and all.

The next moment, he was in Austin, in front of his not-home, once again. His second bagel was for Miss Margaret, the kindly old bank teller of the Pearson Hotel. He hadn't meant to return to this place, hadn't meant to befriend her. He'd only come back to show the woman that he was okay, that he was functional. Dan still wasn't certain if that first trip was for her benefit or for his, but she seemed so happy to talk to him that he kept showing up. He was like a stray cat, except he brought the food and she brought the conversation.

It was nice, he had eventually concluded. He enjoyed talking to someone normal. It made him feel like things were getting better. The building too, despite, or maybe because of its vast differences to his own, made him feel safe. Nothing bad could happen here. The place barely ever had visitors. Dan had no idea how they stayed in business.

He smiled to himself, shaking his head as he pushed open the familiar antique doors. Had this world been just a little bit different, his imagination would've run wild at the possibilities. Perhaps it was a front for a sprawling criminal organization, or a secret base for a superhero, or utilized some sort of alien technology to power itself.

But not here, not in this world. The Pearson was perfectly normal, or as close to normal as a Wild West themed hotel could get.

The point was Dan could relax here. He could be himself, just some random guy. Here he could bury his dreams of heroism, and just live like he used to, before his life went pear-shaped. Nothing strange happened at the Pearson. It was a perfect, boring little slice of heaven and he hoped it would never change.

So, of course, Dan entered the building just as its bank was being robbed.