32 Hero Time , All the Time

Author's Note: This is what has happened since the end of Volume 2 that was done earlier. This where everything that was shown completely diverges from canon and that everything that happens from now on will only be on the brushstrokes of canon without going crazy.

Yet.

Edit : As I write this , it is the season. No matter how outdated or out of season this becomes for new readers out there , I want express my deepest thanks for supporting/ reading this story , and that no matter who you are or where you are from , I personally wish good will and good fortune. And a happy new year.

Warning: Some implied suicidal behaviour early in the chapter.

== [•] ==

Falling through both pitch black space and blinding white from the oxymoron of ethereal nothingness and infinite amounts of superheated matter in the forms of subatomic particles in every possible state , arrangement and position.

As all matter in all 24 dimensional spaces crumbles in both externally and inversely I "see" , more like process/filter innumerable amounts of raw information from the experience, glimpses pass through.

A golden throne over a city of mud.

A lone hero against many impossible tasks.

Two sides of genius and innovation.

Two sides of civilisation and savagery.

Godhood and Mortality.

A̷͙͔̐̋̅̆̊̑́̋͑͝͠.̶̢̦̱̥͍̰̳̼̯̼̬̜̼͕͋́͑͐̊̈̅̉͆̓̀̔̋̈́͝͝.̷̢̞̈́͆͆͐͐͋̎̾̾̊̚̚̚̚.̸͚̹̎̿̃͊̒̒̉ͅG̸̡͉̖͎͙̟͈̓͐̆̐̈́̃̒̀r̸͎̩͉͓̺̥̳͛̽̀̽͐̈̇̓̈͐̕ẻ̸̮͍̊́̈́̇͒̈̏̀̒̑̿͐͆̌̐ͅȅ̶̢̛͈͙̼̥̎̅̍ń̴̡̪̺̞̱̱̙͍̞͖.̵̧̨̤͉̠͍͍̟͉̪͚̫̫̺̓̈́̐͆̆͆͒ͅ.̵̛̹͔̣͊͋̋̔̒̐̉̐̿̈̔̏͝.̶̨̨͍̫̦̖̫͖̳̠̝̳̪̖͎̓̄̊́̃̒̑͒̾́̾͘͠ ̵̛̛͕͕̬̱̳̙͇͋̒͑͛̍̀̂̃̎̾̌̍͘͝H̶̢̛͚̬͈̤̳̾̊̀̾̅̊̍̋̕͘o̸͉͋͆̇̐̎̎̂̉̄͗̃̕͘̕ư̴̡͙̼̻̰͙̰̟͇͚̓̿̓̋̐̔̊̐̃̽̓̓͐͒͌͜͜r̷̬̣̳̣̦̺̰̦̣̼͐͑̄̈́́ͅģ̸̧̛̤̭̥̯̙̼͇͙̮̮̱̅̊͂̿̕͠l̸̠̉̊̈́̔̉͒̍̚͝͠a̷̘͈̔̆̉́̀͑͛̃́̀̕̕s̴̡̡̢̪̘̝̻̻̲̙͙̤̥̞̙̬̉̆̀̏̀̿̍̇s̶̢̛̐̋͋̒͑̌̊̑͋̄̾̑̍̕

== [•] ==

He's has begun to have ... nightmares. 

...

At least what must be it.

He pretends the whole never sleeping thing is just a funny quirk about him, that he likes staying up for hours when it's quiet and ... thinking. 

And he does like it! 

But he doesn't do it because he likes it. 

Sometimes, when he goes to sleep, he feels "dead" again. 

Before the memory was either degrading , repressed, altered but as I go through ... "changes" , that not of the puberty variety, along with any possible information that could be useful that wasn't ingrained into his ...soul start reappearing .

The last of it was early summer when Grandpa Max and Gwen pulled me out of my vague state for Gramps to give me a good talking to.

" That there was time for everything, rest included. That when I'm at my best , that's when it's Hero Time."

Heh.

I hadn't even begun to say that outloud yet.

Well , my battle cry managing to exist without my input aside...

With that information comes the realisation of my many mistakes.

I'm start to miss and despise some of that human weakness.

Describing that feeling is hard, because humans aren't meant to...feel it. To consider reality it through more their five senses, because you don't have a body anymore. You're—

You're nothing. 

It isn't a floating black abyss. It's nothing. And you are nothing. And that feeling feels so terrible and final.

He woke up, after it, in a five year old's body and something else than what he was before, but when he sleeps it's just nothing. So much nothing he wakes up wanting to dry heave and tear himself out of his body. 

He knows he wasn't supposed to come back. 

His consciousness, that is.

It's one thing to have those big action superhero realization that one is superhuman like the obvious enhanced senses such as being able to to count the individual dust particles floating across your after hours and hours and *HOURS* of vacuum to get the irritating their appearance away or not being able to watch TV the same way due to seeing the pixels or constantly being on edge due hearing the electric hum or powerline in and out of your house or constantly feeling seasick without being seasick due to ones body being able to actually tell that one is not on level ANYWHERE ON EARTH OR -

He breathes in a full 10 litres of air to calm down.

....

He doesn't breathe out as his body uses the oxygen at a 99.98 efficiency level.

It's a habit that is hard to kick when your own body starts to remove the consequences of it.

It's much more than being faster , stronger and , here he couldn't help but scoff , "smarter" than normal. Even being blatantly superhuman doesn't even cut it.

Analysing the human reaction times shows that the brain processes in the form of data, no faster than 60 bits per second.

Thus , The Human reaction speed is about 250 milliseconds. Of that about 200 milliseconds is your brain processing the reaction with the remaining 50 milliseconds representing the time it takes for your body to begin moving.

No there is no disconnect or self delusion .

It took me weeks to realise that the attack was worldwide with dozens ,no , hundreds of effects to the environment that will still focused on for years to come just from the property damage. Much less the lives lost - wasted.

My body was relaxed, resting. The mind is in a similar state, using memories and experiences to keep itself occupied, making a meaningless dream that it probably won't bother remembering the next morning after the first urgent thought in the background as it had redistributed the new energy to think.

I lay there on the bed contemplating everything unrelenting manic energy that one would never have assumed from my near corpse-like stillness. It was the best thing I could do now as everything required circumstances that I could not control. While I have been getting more awake time / energy to do stuff... sleep left me with too many other questions.

I know that I couldn't do anything.

I wasn't too upset beyond that of basic empathy that my (mostly) human brain produced as it so... out of my scope or pure altruism someone like Superman.

I was angry.

At my self for letting it get this far.

It was happening while I thought about how random it was , as if we were all still following a script...

With all the damage to the school and around , there won't be school for long while which actually made Carl and Sarah accept my getting certificate without any fuss.

Everything is so different and now I don't know what to do.

==[•]==

It was a desk filled with documents that greeted you as you entered the room. You sighed before starting to review the possible members you could select in your team.

He stayed in the room for hours reading through countless files. Then he rubbed his eyes.

He wasn't reluctant to call in Ben and Gwen, you were sure they would be competent considering... everything, you simply really dreaded how to break it to them you had been working on something that could prove you were keeping secrets for months without telling they.

Such as reactivating the Plumbers on Earth the help of the US Government.

Then he got up to check out the current projects.

Max walked down the wall and headed toward...laboratory 87, where the trekies' project was.

He knocked on the door before entering.

He was glad for his ingrained reflexes as you quickly crouched, as lighting passed above your head. He stood back but and glared at the scientist in his googles behind a protective set holding the alien gun connected to numerous captors.

"Ah, Magistrate." Came his embarrassed voice. "Sorry about that, we didn't expect your arrival to be today."

"Doctor." You cooly greeted him. "A... pleasure, I am sure."

"Likewise." He paused for a moment, unsure until an assistant elbowed him. "But where are my manner, here, please. Take a look at our prototype."

He followed him despite not liking him one bit .... might have been because of your first impression of him.

Still, as he showed you some sort of futuristic-looking 'gun' and prattled about their failures to replicate the function of the alien weapons you couldn't help but feel an incoming headache.

Raising your head to stop him, you began to massage your temple. "Doctor, are you telling me that the only thing your team has been able to gather is data and this..." Waving dismissively toward the cosplay props because that was what it was. "'Prototype' in two months?"

The former assistant came to the Doctor's defence. "We do not have the knowledge base to understand the underlying principles of the weapon, but we are hopeful the data we have gathered will be able to help us in determining them."

It had been days and looking through the two months worth of data was giving you nothing. What little they had been able to detect was contradictory, they didn't have any of the energy requirement a shot needed and neither did they have an internal scan of the weapon with how the energy field it possessed interfered.

He sighed.

This was going to take time.

==[•]==

It takes me a moment to grasp at the unmistakable spark of mana in my core, and I draw it out.

Will it through thought.

Ignis!

"Woah!"

She nearly flinches back from the sudden burst of heat from the white hot fire that erupts into my grasping hand.

==[•]==

NB

Things are getting heated.

A belated Christmas gift.