Chapter Three

"What do you want, kid?"

I looked to the side, raising an eyebrow at the only other person that sat next to me at lunch, which I was having on the roof like a normal person.

"I'm the same age as you, you know?"

Anna Hill, a nine-year-old girl was munching on a peanut butter jelly sandwich. Her gray eyes bore into me with nothing but curiosity as she tilted her head.

This is why I hate kids, one of them is bout to be curious enough to never live the anti-social kid alone.

Her black hair was tied back in a bun and two bangs, which were oddly enough, gray, framed her face, one shorter than the other.

"Doesen't change the fact that the statement is true."

The girl tilted her head the other side and I absently wondered how funny it would be if she fell face-first into the ground. Don't judge me, that shit is funny.

"What's a statement?"

I sighed.

Yes, English.

"I dunno, adults use big words."

There perfect answer.

___

"You know father..."

I started, getting the man to pay attention to me.

"It would be easier for me to make guns... If I actually saw them... Probably."

The man blinked at me, stared for a minute, and stood up.

"Get dressed, we are going to your uncle."

Wait, I have an uncle?

"I have an uncle?"

The man paused, looked over at me, and nodded like that shit was obvious. I restrained myself from shooting this bitch. Really, it would be so easy to just... UGH!

I sighed and stood up from the floor. The idea held merit, everything I made I was familiar with. The beretta I was familiar with, the SSG 08 I was familiar with, 1911 I owned in my past life.

I never used grenades much, so that might be the problem with that.

...Could I make imaginary weapons? Like a lightsaber? A grappling hook that came out of my wrist like a badass?

So many possibilities.

...I kind of realize it now, but I had the potential to be overpowered.

Shuffling into my room, I went to the closet and opened it, looking inside for two simple things. A black shirt and green shorts. I didn't really want to go outside in my sleepwear.

Running downstairs, I met my father at the exit as he was putting on shoes and I got to it too, black boots.

Yes, I had no sense of fashion, leave me alone.

We left the house, locking it behind us, since Mother was still out being a hero and finally sat in a car.

"Want anything on the road?"

I hummed for a moment, did I want anything? Yes, yes I did. Some ice cream, and cigarettes.

But I was nine, I couldn't smoke like I was in my mid-twenties again.

"Uh... Ice cream and water?"

He nodded and started the car, putting it in reverse.

"Well get them on the way there, we are going to be here a while."

We exited the driveway and we were off.

Two hours... we drove for two hours straight if you don't count the stop we made to pick things up for the ride.

And finally, we reached our destination. A two-story house in a quiet neighborhood.

"Alright, let's get this over with."

The man behind me sighed and rang the doorbell.

We waited for a few seconds and finally, the door was opened by the doubleganger of my father. The only difference was that his hair was cut really low and he had a beard growing. He wore a white tank top with green, baggy pants, and dog tags dangling around his neck.

He looked at my father for a bit, before looking down at me and finally smiling.

"Ah, look at you, twerp! You have grown so much! Last I saw you you were the size of a bean!"

Sorry mate, I have no idea who you are, but I already like you.

"Brother, I have a favor to ask."

The man, who was patting my head glanced at my father and straightened up, smile vanishing.

"What is it, John?"

One of the twins sighed in what seemed like annoyance and regret but still continued.

"I want little Adam here to look at your weapons, maybe even hold them for a few moments to familiarize himself with them."

Wow, that was quite straightforward, wasn't it?

The other one looked at him for a moment then at me and finally sighed, rubbing his beard.

"Sure, I assume it's quirk related, otherwise, you would not come here."

My father nodded, and the two of them acted like I wasn't there, or I was too dumb to understand what was going on.

Seriously, don't underestimate kids, they remember shit.

We walked inside and headed toward the stairs. Instead of walking to the second floor, we went next to them and the man opened a door that most likely led to the basement.

I needed an adult, but those two along with myself, were adults, so I just stepped down the stairs, the two following me, and entered the dark room.

My uncle, whose name I still didn't know, turned on the lights and I wanted to drop my jaw.

he had an L115A3!