15 NOT A CHAPTER...but still something fun.
Hey. Can't Update today or tomorrow(it's valentines and I have plans.)
As a Placeholder...I give you... 3 fics.
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A man of steel x Invincible SI.
Chapter 1: Val-Zod.
(General P.O.V)
The battle of Metropolis happened differently.
In another timeline, General Zod's neck was snapped by Superman.
In this world, Superman never got the chance. Whether by a stroke of luck or maybe through divine intervention, Zod failed to terraform the planet way earlier. And as a result, the city was spared the battle between two gods.
And seeing his soldiers, his men, fall prey to the world engine, their d.n.a being the cause of their demise, the General of the Kryptonian Army simply broke.
"Zod, take my hand!!"
Superman yelled, one hand stretched out as he fought the pull of the imploding world engine behind the Kryptonian General.
The latter looked into the eyes of Jor-el's son and...realized something.
Even in death, Jor-el had beaten him. For his son, his legacy, still stood defiant before him.
Lile his father, Kal-el had chosen the hard way. The difficult path. And instead of detesting him, hating him, Zod finally understood.
"Your father would be...proud."
Zod told the young Kryptonian, who had turned his back on his people...but not his home.
He saw the surprise in those blue eyes, so much like Lara's. Imploring him to listen to reason like years before, for Zod to stop fighting. To let go of his anger. Of his guilt.
Of his Duty.
He refused that time.
And he refused this time as well. For Zod was PRIDE. Whether in life or in death.
His eyes never left Superman's. Even as he stopped resisting the pull from the sure death behind him. The world engine pulling on his d.n.a with the might of a black hole.
It wouldn't fit for the ship to go down without the Captain.
"Protect your home, Kal. And pray we never meet again."
He left those words behind as a warning but also as advice. For Superman had no idea, the task he had taken upon himself.
He could be a protector like Zod once was. Or he could be a destroyer, as Zod now was.
(Elsewhere)
(Years Later)
(Val's P.O.V)
"Okay son. Start slow."
A dark skinned giant of a man, whispered to a young boy.
I'm that young boy. General Zod, my father(to me he's dad, but during our training sessions he always insists I call him General Zod)is teaching me the ways of Torquasm vo, the Kryptonian martial Arts for physical discipline.
There's also Torquasm Rao, which is mostly focused on mental discipline but we usually train that during the night in our meditation exercises.
I'm currently 5 years old. This isn't my first life...
Otherwise any normal 5 year old would be complaining about punching the trunk of a Queensland blue gum tree, with their bare fists.
Especially when my Kryptonian powers are yet to manifest.
Oh yeah, metaknowledge for the win.
Bam!
My fists raw and red screamed at me to stop, and yet I kept on. A steady tempo of flesh on wood.
Bam!
Blood flowed freely through my clasped fingers, leaving a patch of red on the tree.
Bam!
Bam!
"Keep your breathing constant. That's how you regulate your strength."
My father would occasionaly offer instruction.
I adjusted on the fly, not breaking the tempo.
Bam!
Bam!
"Stop hunching your shoulders. You will lose a fraction of strength that way and in a battlefield, that means death, boy."
"Yes father."
I felt the light tap of a stick on my forehead. A warning. I swallowed, correcting myself.
"Yes, General Zod."
"Mmhh."
I heard him hum in satisfaction, all the while I was glaring at the tree trunk before me. Despite wailing on the thing for almost a week, there was no lasting damage.
It fuelled me to punch even harder.
Thwack!
The stick landed, this time hard enough that I winced while clutching my head in pain.
Whirling around, I was met with a cool gaze and raised eyebrows. I reluctantly let go of my anger.
"Tonight you meditate until morning. It seems you need more Torquasm Rao lessons."
General Zod said.
"What? But-"
I begun, only to bite my tongue and sigh.
"Yes General Zod."
A small smile of approval, one that was gone so quick that I thought I had imagined it, flashed across his hardened visage.
"Good. Now, you will keep punching that trunk until you break it, or the sun dips down."
Aaaand we're back to his no-nonsense attitude.
I turned around, adopting the basic stance for Torquasm Vo, and promptly begun hammering away at the trunk.
This went on for a week. Each morning I would wake up sleepy due to the Torquasm Rao session the night before (meditation sounds easy in theory but you try pairing it up with a young body that was full of energy and see what you get- either I squirmed alot or I slept alot. In both instances, Zod was there with his trusty cane).
The rest of the day would be spent with him teaching me about the history of our home from the stars, Krypton.
That would be usually in the morning, then it would be maths, (gah) Kryptonese, which is the Kryptonian language and the basics of Science, strategy and warfare. Lastly and maybe weirdly, religion.
I never took him for the religious type before. But as I would come to learn, my father was a complex man.
We worshiped Rao. In this world, far from Krypton, that meant bowing at the morning sun and the setting sun.
We also lived in the mountains. Had been, ever since I could remember.
All my past life memories came rushing back when I was 4 years old, throwing me into a long week on and off coma.
During that time, Father had meticulously taken care of me. Feeding me, bathing me and telling me stories of his exploits as the General of Krypton.
He never hid anything from me.
Just like that, 1 more year would pass as we trained, keeping to the schedule established, only with sparring included.
I was going to turn 6 tomorrow.
One of those instances of training helped me learn there was more to fighting than pure strength or speed. Or in other words, Torquasm Rao, was the core of Torquasm Vo.
*******
The cold mountain breeze blew on an open field, right behind the cabin we lived in. (As stated, Dad and I lived secluded in the mountains,far away from civilization)
Black eyes met similar ones as we faced off. Or rather, I faced off against him.
He was standing, hands clasped behind his back, that detestable cane I hated, swinging back and forth behind him.
I breathed in, exhaling slowly as my body oriented itself into a ready stance.
My eyes judged the distance between us with a critical analysis. I knew, one wrong move and I was getting that cane on my forehead.
"Well, boy? We don't have all day."
Da- General Zod addressed me. But I knew what he was doing. Taunting me to attack.
I knew better.
My heel scruffed against the ground, widening my stance.
Then I was off. Jumping backwards as Zod appeared on my previous position, the cane in his hand tearing into the ground and leaving a small crater.
I knew it.
But him attacking so suddenly revealed an opening.
And I was off again, dashing to his left with a hand pulled back.
He saw me coming from a mile away and waited until I was mere inches away from him.
Then the cane cut through the air, whistling as it was set to deliver the mother of all whacks onto my face.
Only for me to slide in between his feet. I can't believe that worked. Heart pumping with excitement, I knew I had him. I was going to land my very first blow.
In a second I was up, spinning my heel into the back of his knee-
Darkness took hold.
I woke up a few minutes later with the father of all headaches and an agghead on my forehead.
Looming over me, My father tsked, a disappointed look on his face.
"You got too excited and paid the price. Battle demands a cool head. You never know if or when the enemy intentionally sets up a false opening."
"Ugh."
I rubbed my head, throwing him a sour look.
"Did you have to hit me so hard?"
General Zod shifted places with my father and I saw one of his rare smiles.
"You're my son."
He patted my shoulder.
"If anyone can take it, it's you."
I gaped up at him. Such unreasonable logic. I'm 6 dammit.
A serious look crossed his face.
"Val. I don't train you because I hate you. I train you because you need to learn how to protect yourself once I'm no longer around."
That...brought me short. An anxious feeling bloomed within me.
"No longer around?"
I repeated.
"Father...what do you mean by that?"
Was he...was he going to leave me?
Instead of answering, the cane in his hand smacked the top of my head, gently. And General Zod was back.
"Get up. We spar again."
(General P.O.V)
The cottage was quiet, the only sound audible, being the soft breathing of a child.
His child. His son. His Legacy.
Zod closed the door gently behind him. Despite not displaying the more apparent Kryptonian abilities, Val's senses were very attuned.
He could hear a grasshopper from a mile away if he focused. And Zod had to float above the ground to mask his footsteps as he moved down the steps.
Finally outside, the former Kryptonian General looked up at the sky, at the moon shining down on this Earth he'd gotten stranded on- after the World Engine sucked him in.
He'd thought he would die.
And no one else had survived besides him. But he hadn't come out unscathed. His powers...they'd been steadily fading away over the years.
His cells irreversibly damaged during the transition.
Otherwise he wouldn't entertain her.
The woman floating on the sky, the glare of the moon highlighting her muscular physique while still retaining it's feminine curves.
Zod, flew up slowly, the cloak he wore flapping in the calm night breeze as he arrived before the mother of his son.
"Anissa."
Zod greeted with a small smile.
With short hair, a beautiful face and full lips, the Viltrumite female closed the distance in between them and passionately started kissing him.
"You trimmed your beard."
She purred, stroking his cheek.
"I like it."
Zod placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away.
"Not here. He might hear us."
The look in her eyes shifted from seductive to...something soft, her line of sight on the cabin below.
Then she turned an glared at the Kryptonian.
"Spoilsport."
Voom!
The air cried out as Anissa ascended, leaving the Earth's atmosphere.
Zod looked down at the cabin for a few seconds, before turning his gaze to the sky and following after Anissa.
They had a battle to commence. A battle to decide whether Val stayed with his Father or left with his mother to be trained like a Viltrumite.
A battle that had been happening every year since he was born, on the eve of his birthday.
The battle of Legacies.
(Elsewhere)
In a high tech operations room with rows of screens and agents manning those screens,
A bespectacled man, swiveled on his chair as a prompt appeared on one of the monitors.
"Sir, we got a match."
Donald, second in command of one of the most influential men on the planet, told said man.
On the grid showing earth, two fast moving objects were being tracked as they left the atmosphere.
"Well Donald, Christmas just came early."
Cecil Stedman, the director of the Global Defense Agency replied, leaning over the railing.
Who knew revamping their monitoring systems and modifying them with the help of the Mauler twins would be a great idea?
"Track their trajectory, I wanna know where they're going but most importantly...where they're coming from."
He gave the order.
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And 2.
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Saint A/N: Lovers of One Piece, I bring you a Lunarian SI or OC whatever you wanna call it.
-0-
Chapter 1: The Sun Pirates.
(Gabriel Narrating)
~(Someone was scrubbing the floors of the Sun Pirate's ship)~
The age of pirates.
No one would have anticipated the kind of chaos and unprecedented change the seas would undergo due to the actions of one man.
Gol.D. Roger.
The king of the pirates. The only man to journey to Raftel (Laugh tale) and find the legendary treasure, One Piece.
Well La di da.
Good for the guy. Also fuck him too. I blame him for all the stupid shit I had to endure. Or rather, the stupid shit the previous owner of this body went through.
The feelings of hatred for anything Pirate coming from the memories of the young Lunarian I had taken over were potent enough to bleed into me.
Pirates had captured him and sold him to the Celestial Dragons afterall.
So...yeah. Suffice to say, the hate was strong in this one. And through inheriting the body, I seemed to have inherited the animosity as well.
Only on a smaller scale. Thank god.
Because in this world, with my mindset and race, the only path left to me was that of being a Pirate.
And with this body, a body whose potential I couldn't even begin to explain or fathom, I could make it to heights that even the King of Pirates couldn't hope to reach.
"I WILL surpass Gol. D. Roger. I WILL surpass Kozuki Oden, I WILL surpass Rocks D Xebec, the beast Kaido, Garp. I'll even surpass you...Luffy."
-0-
"Do you know what's he's mumbling about?"
Macro asked, the pelican eel Fishman scratching his head in confusion.
~(the scrubbing stopped. Only to pick up again)~
"Phsh..."
Aladine let out a smoke from his pipe, throwing a side glance at the boy they had managed to rescue along with other slaves from Mariejois.
"Speaking of, have you ever seen anyone with wings and fire burning on their back? Is he...is he even human?"
Hatchan whispered.
Most of the Sun Pirates gathered around the deck looked at each other cluelessly.
"This world is large and incomprehensibly complex. All manner of creatures exist. Even those that remain yet undiscovered."
A young Jimbe pitched in from where he sat, crosslegged with a cup of Sake in his hands.
His crewmates, fellow Fishmen like him hang onto his words.
The blue skinned future Warlord licked his lips, sighing in contentment and throwing an analytical look at the young boy.
"I've heard of one such race. A rare one known as the True Gods. With wings as white as snow, an ever burning flame above the spine and skin as rich as ground coffee. The boy is most likely a Lunarian and-"
"He has a name."
A soft voice interrupted.
All attention turned to their subject of discussion.
Only to find the Lunarian boy facing them with no shred of fear or nervousness in his star shaped irises, just a cold gaze that made some flinch.
Something that made Jimbe stare at him strangely.
'Haki?'
The future Straw Hat member mused.
"Oh yeah? And what would that name be?"
A deep and authoritative voice came from the direction of the cabin.
The source turned out to be a tall Salmon-Pink giant of a Fishman who walked out onto the deck.
"Captain."
The Sun Pirate crew stood straighter, creating a path for Fisher Tiger to make his way through.
The young Lunarian boy craned his neck up, then up some more, his curious but frigid eyes meeting impassive beady black ones.
The scrubbing fully stopped as a little girl with a perpetual and unnatural smile on her face, looked up in wonder at the Captain of the Sun Pirates.
A wonder that was shared among the rest of the crew, watching on as one giant Fishman faced a much much smaller figure.
Yet it was like staring at two suns, each presence unbowed and undiminished by the other.
"Gabriel."
The young Lunarian boy finally answered, his pure white angelic wings twitching behind him.
"My name is Gabriel. Thank you for saving my life."
He bowed.
-0-
(2 months later)
(East Blue)
Standing on the frame of the deck, Gabriel jumped off the Ship of the Sun Pirates, drifting to the ground slowly with a gentle flap of his wings.
His feet landed on the shores of cocoyasi village. Hopefully a new beginning for him.
The blue seas were meant to be peaceful after all. Besides the occasion blue seas pirates, marines and bandits of course.
And after training with the Sun Pirates for 2 months, none of those would pose an insurmountable challenge.
But even with that, he was still pitifully weak, being in a 9 year old body with less reach and coordination.
Ergo, training was a necessity.
Lots and lots of training. For he knew what was coming. Sooner or later he would be tracked down, hunted for what he was.
It wasn't a question of If but When. Whether they sent an Admiral after him or the CP division of the Marines, it didn't matter, he knew they would come.
And he would meet them head on.
He would be ready.
"Hey Gabriel!"
Jimbe called out from the ship.
The young Lunarian turned around, adopting a smile as he faced his saviours.
"Try to stay out of trouble, alright kid?"
Jimbe told him.
Koala, the little girl who similar to Gabriel had been saved by the Sun Pirates sat on the Fishman's shoulders, waving farewell at him.
Infact, the whole crew was present to send him off, including Fisher Tiger and...Arlong.
The serated nosed Shark Fishman held a certain...glint in his eyes as he stared at the Island before them.
Gabriel held back a sigh, his wings twitching.
Welp, fate and the plot dictated by Goda sensei, ensured he would be seeing Arlong soon.
Very soon if the timeline was to be trusted. Though Gabriel was confident the ripples from his presence here were minimal.
"I can't promise anything."
Gabriel replied, to which the crew stared at him strangely.
"What?"
He curiously asked.
"You just don't speak alot Angel-kun."
Koala answered with a laugh.
A laugh that was shared with the rest of the Sun Pirates. Gabriel wouldn't admit it, but he was going to miss them.
The only reason he had escaped the horror and torture that was the home of the Celestial Dragons was because of them.
Some of the memories left behind by the true owner of the body he occupied made him sick to his stomach. And that was saying something as he had been a nurse in his previous life.
Back to reality, Gabriel bowed, his long white hair cascading over his face, obscuring his eyes which were slightly misty.
"Thank you. All of you."
He said sincerely, knowing that he wouldn't be seeing them for a long while if ever.
An image from his past life, of Fisher Tiger's dying breath in the infirmary of the ship came to mind. He had been wrestling with the decision to tell him of his impending death. To warn him.
But...
He knew better than anyone except Koala, the depths of the depravity and inhumanity they'd endured.
And while traumatized, Koala and he had a chance to recover from the trauma, unfortunately for a prideful man like Fisher Tiger...
It wouldn't be wrong to say, he wanted to die.
Gabriel straightened up from his bow, eyes meeting that of Fisher Tiger. As before, an unspoken conversation took place between them.
But this time, Gabriel decided to voice it out for the rest of the crew.
"I promise, I might not be Joyboy, who the legends say is coming..."
With that initial statement, a few in the know like Jimbe sucked in a deep breath, shocked to their core.
"But I will destroy Mariejois one day. I will bring down these so called gods from their perch above the world."
With each word, the silence stretched. All the Sun Pirates and one human girl awed by the convinction in his tone.
"So you can rest easy knowing that no one, not a Fishman or Human or any other race, will suffer in their hands once I'm through. This, is my vow to you."
A way to show his gratitude.
Fisher tiger could only smile to that.
-0-
Gabriel watched the Ship sail away, the Sun Pirates flag flapping in the air as it disappeared into the Horizon.
"Now then."
The young Lunarian muttered to himself, turning around to face his home for the next...until he was strong enough to not needlessly die in the Grand line.
So maybe 10 years. Yeah...in 10 years he would sail the seas and begin his dream.
Which meant, he needed power that rivalled that of a vice admiral. Anything less was unacceptable and anything more was impossible without fighting some tough enemies.
Luckily, the one who sent him here gave him something to survive. A particularly useful Golden Finger.
From here everything would depend on his will and conviction.
The Lunarian stared at a silver ring on his finger. One stenciled with strange characters he had never seen before.
Trying to remove it was impossible.
And Rubbing it brought forth an interface of sorts in his mind.
A floating scroll with brown and frayed edges.
Written on the scroll was a singular title:- The Angelic Ascension.
P.S: Lunarian wings are black but for the sake of the setup, Gabriel's are white.
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And 3:-
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AN/ Something I wrote a while back.
MY INVINCIBLE FATHER: Omniman SI.
Chapter 1: Nolan Grayson
He kept staring at the mirror.
Had been. For the last hour. And yet...none of this made sense.
The face that looked back at him, was none other than Nolan Grayson's. Otherwise known as Omni-Man.
He was inside a neat room. With a simple bed in the middle and a half open window letting in a warm breeze.
The curtains ruffled slightly.
The sound, woke up his pregnant wife. Another headache he was going to have to address.
"Nolan, baby? Come back to bed. It's cold without you."
Debbie's voice was soft, loving...desiring.
And they stirred up the same emotions in him. And love. A love that was deep as it was shallow. He knew how the real Nolan felt.
She wasn't different to all the other lovers he'd had in the past. Maybe the most...insatiable one. The way she moaned when he brushed her nipple with his lips.
"Go back to sleep Debbie."
Nolan's voice rang through the bedroom, deep and steady.
A sound that always managed to ease her. She rubbed her bulging belly lovingly. And then peacefully went to sleep. Her breath evened out. She was dead to the world.
Nolan or rather the soul within him sighed, rubbing his chin in irritation.
"Oi, is this a joke or something?"
He asked in an annoyed voice.
"I'm 56. Too old to have a brat. Take me bac-..."
He stopped, as a burning envelope flew into his hand from the open window.
The envelope was red and had the insignia '666' imprinted on its surface.
Nolan opened it with a stony gaze, pulling out a white letter.
"(You have been banished from hell. Deal with it.)"
Nolan stopped, scratching his beard.
"(Due to an error with the Office of the ~Damned~ Souls Resource Management, Subject XxxX 012276 has been released on probation. Upon successful completion of an issued mission, the subject's sentence will be completely annulled. Do you accept? It Doesn't Matter if you do. Abandoning the mission will result in [True Death)"
The paragraph cut off there. Then a few skipped rows down, there was another piece of text. The mission.
His brows arched.
"How ironically annoying."
He breathed out through his nose, jaw
"In my past life I enjoyed reaping lives...and now I'm supposed to safeguard them?"
He stared at his wife's reflection in the mirror. His eyes returned to his own reflection. A handsome man, Nolan Grayson was.
A strong man.
Veins bulged across his terrifyingly cut physique. The physique of a man at his prime. The physique of a warrior.
He could feel it. The raw power in his limbs. Enough to create earthquakes with a single punch.
Enough to vaporoze a man with a single slap.
And he had some firm butcheeks as well. Good for jumping and running. For added measure he squeezed them. Solid rock.
This body was fashioned after numerous battle, honed through life or death altercations.
It was fitting.
Maybe he could do it. If only for the next 18 years. And then ge could off the brat and his mother. Or rather his wife.
He had to keep up pretenses after all. Play the firm but loving father and husband.
He was even going to train the brat, so that when the time finally comes for him to release his pent up agression, the brat would be a worthy challenge.
Turning around, the New Nolan Grayson, not only the prince of an intergalactic warrior race of conquerors, not only a father or husband, not only...dubbed history's worst serial killer as recorded by 2081 A.D, not only a former prisoner of the worst level of hell, accepted his new life.
He accepted it all.
The letter and envelope left on top of the dresser self combust, burning from the edges in.
And the words on the final paragraph, before the letter turned into ash, read:
(Your mission is simple, Nolan Grayson. This is a world in need of a savior. The Avengers Initiative shall fail and the World will be infected by a Zombie Plague. 18 years. Protect Earth 2149T for 18 years and you can have your freedom.)
The next morning, Nolan woke up to a sensation he hadn't felt in a long time. A sensation that he had missed.
The lips of a woman wrapped around his member.
He peeked his eyes open, meeting the doe-eyed lusty expression on Debbie's face.
"Mmowjng, oowj do Sweep?" (Morning, how'd you sleep? )
She tried to speak with his dick in her mouth, sending waves of pleasure through him.
"Dammit woman, you really know how to work me up."
He growled.
Debbie squelled as he pulled her to his chest, tickling her sides and making her laugh uncontrollablly.
"Stahp stahp..."
He only stopped when she was mellow like putty in his hands.
She snuggled her back into his chest, fitting in perfectly between his large and muscular hands.
He even felt her kneading them, almost entranced. It was something he learned she loved from Nolan's memories.
Debbie was attracted to his vicious strength. The Alpha male power he exuded whenever he walked or talked or...fucked.
She was an insatiable woman afterall. And an insatiable needed an insatiable man.
"Hey babe,"
She called out.
"The baby wants some fresh croissants from that French place and the wife prefers a plate of crumpets and a tub of ice-cream. If only I had a..."
Within a single second he was out of New York, the next he arrived in France and was back inside the bedroom on the last second.
"...husband who could..."
Debbie trailed off aa her nose picked up a wonderful scent.
On the drawer next to the bed was a packet with the breakfast she wanted.
Debbie turned to face Nolan with an hungry look on her face. She carressed his cheek.
"Have I ever told you how wonderful you are, Nolan Grayson?"
Nolan smiled with mirth.
"Not nearly enough."
"Then allow me to express my gratitude."
Debbie Loosened her gown, revealing herself to the man she wholeheartedly believed was her husband.
Outside the room, pleasurable moaning could be heard as Nolan mercilessly fucked his pregnant wife.
The sky at the attitude he was floating above ended at her point on the horizon.
The canvas of life in the form of a sphere shifted from shades of blue, green and brown just under his chin, giving way to an endless expanse of stars and mores stars.
It was a view the old Nolan was used to. The new Nolan didn't see the point in it.
He supposed it wasn't bad. And some might consider it beautiful even. But it wasn't the same as killing. It didn't give him the same appreciation of existence as the transition from life to death in someone's eyes.
But it will have to do.
To succeed in his mission meant forging an identity. That of a hero. And for there to be no chinks in his armor, he had to go deeper than that.
He had to change his mindset to reflect that of a hero.
18 years...
He caught himself before he could complain about it being too long. He was a viltrumite now. 18 years...heck even 1000 years was nothing to him now. It would all pass in the blink of an eye.
Before then, his cover had to be ironclad.
As it so happened, fate had the same plans. With his hearing, he was able to pinpoint a crisis that needed his help.
Without a moment's hesitation the future Omniman, the cape of his costume flapping, begun to descend towards Chicago, a fire was burning on a the 13th floor of a building in Downtown.
He got there in less than 3 seconds. Something that had him questioning just how powerful Nolan was. He could cross the world in a matter of seconds.
And that wasn't his top speed.
Questions for another time.
Right now he had lives to save. He floated down onto the floor, ignoring the roar of flames as he closed his eyes, using his ears.
The fast and panicked heart rates of 12 people scattered about the office reached his ears.
"Okay. I'll get the ones about to be crushed on the floor below out first."
His form blurred, the burst of pressure from his sheer speed, causing a pocket of displaced air to collapse, instantly putting out the flames, before a loud sonic boom erupted behind him.
Down below, the police had cordoned off the entrance to the building, blocking the crowds of onlookers and reporters while the fire-men evacuated the employees.
A young photographer just happened to look up.
"Hey what happened to the fire?"
Just then, bars of metal and pieces of debris from the destroyed floor rained down onto the ground.
"Lookout!"
The photographer cried out, looking around urgently, trying to urge everyone to leave, only to find them all staring up.
So he did as well, and there floating above them all was a tall man, dressed in a white and red costume with an I on his chest.
The man had a warm, comforting smile as he gazed down at them. A smile that eased the young photographer despite being dumbstruck by such a strange scene.
"Don't worry Citizens. Rest easy. For I am Here."
And then he flew off.
No one said anything. All of them, the police, the firefighters, the rescued victims.
It was like that...until he left.
And only then did any of them find themselves breathing. That...that presence and aura.
"I was just saved by a Superhero. A real life Superhero."
One person, covered in smoke and a few burns said, disbelief apparent on her face.
"Like Captain America. Or an angel. He swooped in through the flames and pulled me out..."
Another one chimed in.
That was when the crowd noticed the 12 new additions. The office workers that were stuck in the fire.
The only question in the Photographer's mind was one that carried with it serious implications.
A simple question nonetheless.
How was the world going to take this?
(Elsewhere)
News of course, spread far and wide. Throughout not only the country but the world itself.
It was the year 2002 after all, Superheros were a thing of the past. Of the 40's
And interested parties took note.
To be specific, a certain one eyed spy in a multi billion dollar air carrier looked at the picture of Omniman on the wall of his office and frowned.
But he was far from the only one.
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