Chapter 2 - Marvel (1)

[Markus' POV]

It has been exactly two months since I reincarnated here.

Two months since I truly began my training... and while I am still nowhere near the full potential of my Speed Force, I can say that protecting myself from most people on Earth should be a piece of cake.

Stepping in front of the large mirror I installed next to the upgraded supercomputers, I take a good look at myself.

Every corner of my body was fully covered with a costume quite similar to "Red Death", a version of Flash corrupted by Batman. Like him, this costume was made purely of Speed Force, thus capable of withstanding most damage and more importantly, malleable enough to allow me some instantaneous modifications such as turning my fingers into sharp claws.

It was purely esthetical since at the speed at which I move, very few things should be capable of resisting my strength.

The costume itself was slightly different from Red Death's, mainly with the color scheme.

My Speed Force is made of different shades of gray, for most however, it would appear silver exactly like the Black Racer.

The other differences were the bat on the torso was replaced by a blurred dark bolt and the bat ears at each side of my temples were simply bolts with two ends.

It was not simple to achieve this kind of control in such a short amount of time, but now I have to live as if each day was my last.

I rarely ever slept during these last two months, either busy trying to reign in the unruly Speed Force or upgrading most equipment in what I named my Speed Cave. Original? No, but I don't care about such things.

Speaking about building, as expected my mind truly progressed beyond human recognition. I was capable of reading and comprehending most books and research about scientific and mechanical subjects.

It is not the only thing I did since I had to get some materials that would otherwise, be impossible for me to get.

I stole a few things here and there, mostly from criminal groups and other hidden entities that would probably fail to understand who I am as they were not present when I strike.

While it does put my anonymity in jeopardy, I am now confident enough to affirm being able to fight most things that would certainly underestimate me. If incapable of killing them, I should be able to run pretty easily.

The uncertainty of my situation is grave enough for me to go to such lengths.

Speaking of which, my last creation is perfect for me to measure my speed without having to constantly do extreme mathematical equations.

Walking over to the treadmill at the far end of the basement, I push one button on its expensive-looking dashboard and a hologram suddenly displays, my vitals transmitted through the sensors I just put on.

"It's show time!" I announce, beginning with a light jog.

Soon enough, gray and silver lightning surrounds my armored body as I run faster and faster, my sense of time slowing even further.

Without problems, I reach my top speed before keeping it for a few seconds. I easily kept track of my vitals, the supercomputer just barely fast enough to process them.

My current speed is highlighted with red numbers.

6900 meters per second.. or barely above Mach 20.

It's not nearly fast enough to contend with DC Comics' speedsters. However, from what I could see from this universe, it is a mix of the Marvel Cinematic Universe and its comics. So while they are hidden threats everywhere just like in the comic books, they are not nearly as strong as they should be, but still strong enough to pound their movies' versions.

I would have run some more but the treadmill visibly began to show signs of overheating. It is the limit of my device but for now, it is sufficient.

Stepping out of the treadmill I begin to walk toward the elevator, my costume disappearing in less than a second.

I could have tried running out through phasing but I am still a beginner. I should focus on getting more fighting experience before trying the more advanced forms of Speed Force.

There is a lot more than simply being able to go fast. Time manipulation should not be too far from my reach if I truly master it. I only need time.

How ironic.

Walking out of the warehouse, my feet stop at the same time as the metallic door closes behind me.

My eyes meet another pair that was waiting for me. A face that I had no trouble recognizing from the comics, especially with his almost animalistic scent that perfectly suited his looks.

"So that's you the new mutant, kid?" He asked, putting his hands out of his vest' pockets.

Big hands for a relatively smaller body. However, the muscles that belong more to an animal than a human was proof of his strength, so very few are capable of mocking his height, and the ones that do often end up with fewer teeth than they began their sentence with.

Perhaps I forgot to take care of the problem of the infamous mental rapists that dwell around the corner, some looking for mutants to recruit for their 'greater causes' or simply to cause mindless chaos under their flawed ideology.

Thinking about it, I will have to be sure not to be detected by the one-eyed paranoiac guy up there. I do not need to join his little boy's band of slightly stronger humans.

Still not powering out of my accelerated thoughts state, I take a look around, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. Weird, in most cases, they come in groups when it's about recruiting. What changed that... I don't know but once again, it's not my problem.

"James Howlett. I did not expect you to come here personally."

---

Logan is a brave man. One that has known almost everything a human could during the long time he was alive.

Fighting in wars? Easy.

Taking the deflagration of a freaking nuclear warhead? Meh, it regenerated in the seconds that followed.

Hell, even being controlled like a mere puppet by Magneto was easy compared to understanding the enigma in front of him.

What is supposed to be a simple recruitment of a barely adult mutant immediately puts him on edge. Some part of him screaming at him about how much of a threat the man in front of him is.

Although the Professor was unable to gather anything else than his location from the mental connection he has with most mutants on the planet thanks to the Cerebro due to unknown reasons, he was still capable of identifying him as being of a similar nature as Scott but with an Omega power.

It should not have been even more difficult than convincing him to willingly follow him, the young mutant freshly awoken around two months ago. The lack of any insane events happening helps them confront more important matters before finally going to meet him.

Perhaps a little bit of making him know about the other mutants groups that are way more aggressive than them would have helped. However, right now? It seems like he knows way more than he expected.

Instantly tensing up, he feels the need to jump back to put some distance between the two of them but his instinct was telling him that this would be useless.

Logan being quite an experienced fighter has the habit to follow his animalistic instincts since they often save him from painful experiences.

So, instead of making any wild moves, he lightly crouches, letting out a low growl.

"How do you know that name?"

Markus' facial expression was unreadable. Unchanging since the beginning of his exit from the warehouse, he simply looked at Logan with an unimpressed permanent-like frown.

Suddenly moving his hands to his right pocket, he takes out a comb that he immediately uses to bring back the strands of black hair that fell in front of his eyes.

"The reason behind my knowledge is important for you, I am sure. However, I lack the desire to answer your question before you answered mine." He answers immediately, putting back the golden comb out of Logan's vision.

As if remembering the reason behind his presence he narrows his eyes, looking closely at the young man's expression.

It was rare for Logan to be that unable of understanding someone's mind.

Most people would believe the young man to be a simple albeit powerful, mutant capable of seeing through the past.

Logan however was still slightly sweating at the invisible pressure he felt when standing in front of Markus.

It was like prey meeting predators. Not a feeling that he will or has ever appreciated.

"... I am here to invite you to meet the Professor." Logan said, testing the water.

He wanted to know if the person in front of him was knowledgeable in more than his identity as Charles Xavier while being an intelligent and slightly famous person, was not known to most as simply the 'Professor' or even his relationship with mutants.

"Charles Xavier. Powerful mutant, hypocritical man and master of the 'good mutants' also known as X-Men." Markus answered, spouting the kind of information that only those that closely know them could know, looking at his wrist where a silver watch shone under the sun.

However, Logan's eyes simply widened before his eyes sharply gazed at the man that was instantly capable of knowing who he was talking about. From what he knows, he should not have been approached by any mutant group so this kind of comprehension about their school was slightly worrying.

"How do you- No. Are you a telep-" Before Logan could finish his questions, the black-haired young man put back his hand in his expensive costume pocket.

"I won't answer your questions here. It is a bother to repeat myself so you shall hear my words at the same time as your other friends." He declares, walking toward the still unmoving Wolverine.

"Wha-!" Once again, Logan was unable to react before Markus acted.

Moving far faster than he could react to, he felt an impossibly strong grip taking a hold of the back of his head and neck.

"Don't move, it would be a shame to break your neck... Even though it shouldn't be possible considering your bones."

Lightning wrapped around the two of them before the next second, their presence simply disappeared from the deserted road.

---

[Markus' POV]

It is amusing to look at Pikachu's surprised face.

While I am unable to know much about the universe considering the heavily alternated version it is, it shouldn't be a problem to make some assumptions. Future events are completely random but I know at least some things about them.

This brings me to the persona I will present myself with.

I have to admit that Eobard Thawne is one of my favorite characters. Not only did he dedicate his life to ruining someone else's with the pettiest things, but he also had quite a legitimate goal.

I am finding a way home.

And while I don't have any 'future timeline' to rejoin, it does not mind that I can't act as if it is the case.

Especially since my identity existence is only two years old before my awakening.

Thus, the simplest way to explain things would be to say that I come from a faraway future. It should be failproof, especially since I have a way to travel through time and somehow know the future.

As for the X-Men, they are powerful indeed but I do not need them.

Trying to change the way they think to suit my plans and become puppets would take way too much time and involvement for me to see it as viable.

However, it does not mean that I can't introduce myself as someone powerful enough to help them if need be. It will gather some eyes my way but getting some good points with their group is good enough for now.

Lessening my grip on Logan's head, I felt him immediately fall on his knees, unable to comprehend how fast we moved.

While the Speed Force protected him from the harsher results of such rapid movements, the sudden spatial changes is enough to make even a grown man like him spit out his dinner which should consist of most alcoholic drinks.

Side-stepping the still vomiting man, I look at the portal where 'Gifted Children's School' is proudly spelled with golden letters.

It didn't take much longer for several figures to leave the mansion, approaching our position with quick steps. They should have felt the sudden arrival of Logan and me, however, I still want to know if only my position was exposed or if my thoughts are too.

Hopefully wrapping my brain with a layer of Speed Force should be efficient for him not to mess up my mind.

"It is a pleasure for us to meet you, Markus Freeman."