17. New Day, New Pain in the ass

Rare moments of silence and relaxed limbs were an incredible luxury for Thomas. A calm morning, with a gentle breeze drifting in through an open window, was something he seldom experienced. These moments, when the world wasn't pressing down on him, were precious. Thomas treasured them deeply, especially when life seemed like an endless series of problems, each one dragging him further into its chaos. As the chief fighter for justice, he bore the burden of dealing with these challenges.

For a long time, the public had branded him the second Captain America—heroic, steadfast, and the country's most vital representative on the world stage. But while Thomas had only a vague idea of who Captain America even was, he knew that his own responsibilities stretched far beyond simple heroism. His work involved responding to international crises and neutralizing supervillains. And there were those who resented him for it. Politicians, those damned bureaucrats, were constantly searching for ways to keep Goliath, his code name, confined within the country's borders. But no matter their schemes or how much they talked, they were powerless to stop him. Neither laws nor weapons could hold him back. At this point, Thomas had become an unstoppable force.

Yet, he still wondered why. Every single day, he asked himself the same question: Why him?

Again, why he rewarded a power whose limits remained unknown, even to him? The nature of his abilities puzzled him, a mystery he had yet to unravel despite years of contemplation. Thor's remark had only deepened his thoughts on the matter.

The quiet only made it worse. Whenever calm settled around him, his mind raced, replaying past conversations and analyzing them over and over. It was a habit.

So what exactly was he capable of? For starters, enormous jumps paired with incredible strength. Jumping off Mount Everest and landing unharmed was just one testament to his abilities. He also possessed the power to destroy massive targets, with the curious principle that the larger the target, the more damage he sustained himself. His third ability involved delivering a single devastating blow, capable of obliterating internal organs. It was a strange mix of powers, and how they fit together was something Thomas had tried to figure out for 35 years.

What he could do in his second form was enough to give anyone a headache. But that wasn't why he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.

Thomas Andre's mornings began with the familiar comfort of his gold-colored bed, perfectly suited to his large frame. The furniture in his room was neatly arranged in the corners, leaving a clear path to the balcony. Out there waited his favorite rocking chair—old, yet incredibly comfortable. Every morning followed the same ritual: a cup of tea, a light breakfast, and a peaceful moment on the balcony in that well-worn chair.

Today was no different. Thomas lifted himself out of bed and noticed the large red robe hanging nearby. With one stride, he was up, stretching his muscles to work out the tension. The morning sun poured in through the window, energizing him. He inhaled deeply, letting the temperate air fill his lungs, and exhaled with a contented smile.

The day was off to a good start. He wore loose pajama pants, his torso bare—he preferred sleeping without a shirt. His skin was covered in dark, mysterious tattoos that spanned his back, chest, and shoulders. These tattoos were a source of endless speculation online. Most people wondered about their meaning, but only true fans of Goliath, Thomas's alter ego, had an inkling of the truth.

The prevailing theory among his followers was that these tattoos were linked to his powers. They had noticed something unusual: when his abilities activated, faint golden cracks appeared along the edges of the dark ink. The fans were right, and Thomas felt a sense of relief when a dedicated subreddit finally pieced it together. From there, the theory spread to Twitter and other platforms. Still, this wasn't common knowledge. Anyone curious enough would need to dig through forums or ask a dedicated fan, who would likely offer an enthusiastic explanation.

Thomas was always interested in public perception. He would often create anonymous social media accounts just to see what people thought of Goliath. Some might call it narcissism, but for Thomas, staying connected to the thoughts of the people he protected was essential. In both his first life and this one, understanding how he was seen by the world mattered deeply to him.

Andre had never considered himself handsome—not in this life, and certainly not in his first. He always felt like he stood out too much, like he was too strange to blend in. Back then, he was an optimistic soul, full of joy for the little things, and often acted younger than his age suggested. Not a simpleton or a fool—after all, a fool doesn't graduate from medical school—but someone who genuinely enjoyed life's simple pleasures and laughed with abandon. Perhaps it was this lightheartedness, this softness, that kept him from finding a wife and having the life he once dreamed of.

But in this new, even more chaotic world, he was an even greater oddity. At 4 meters tall, he was a towering figure—a giant among men. Where in the world do you see someone like that? Nowhere. And just as his size seemed strange to others, it felt equally bizarre to Thomas himself. Being this massive for the first time was disorienting. His hands and feet were too large, his clothes never fit, and ordinary household items were impossibly small for him. Thankfully, he had time to adapt. He didn't grow to this size overnight, but he was always unnaturally tall, even as a child. Imagine a ten-year-old boy standing at 6'1". That's what made him famous—and, eventually, what made him money.

When he began to earn, his first thoughts went to the one person who had always cared for him, the woman he lovingly called Nana. With a heart of gold, she still worked at the orphanage where she had raised him. That orphanage, now guarded around the clock, had security put in place after a harrowing incident. Some organization discovered the connection between Nana and Thomas and took her hostage.

It was a wake-up call for Thomas. In his pursuit of the attention he'd always craved, he had momentarily forgotten the people who had stood by him from the start. The incident filled him with an intense rage, especially since those bastards might have killed the woman he cared for so deeply. If there's one thing Thomas Andre couldn't stand, it was a threat to the lives of the elderly or children—especially if it involved someone he loved.

That day marked the first time Goliath, had ever been seen angry on camera. It was a rare occurrence, one that became etched in the annals of history.

Fortunately, everything turned out well for Thomas—and disastrously for the gang. No one knows what happened to that underground crew, but they vanished without a trace. Thomas made sure to send a clear message: messing with him or his loved ones wasn't worth the risk. The results spoke for themselves; no one ever tried targeting his family again.

"Morning, Boss," came Jocasta's voice. Thomas perked up, eyebrows rising in surprise at her presence. Tony wasn't at the mansion—Inner Sonar would have picked him up if he were—so Thomas figured Pepper must have called him away. And if Tony was gone, surely he would've taken Jocasta with him. After all, he'd mentioned borrowing her.

"Jocasta? You're still here? I thought Tony needed you," Thomas called out.

"The data's already downloaded, Boss," Jocasta replied.

"Already? When did he do that? "

"Before Mr. Stark arrived at the mansion, Boss."

Thomas shook his head, taking a step toward the bedroom door. "Why'd he even ask me…? Typical Tony. Probably didn't think twice about it," he mused. Tony was like a brother, so these things could be overlooked. Besides, Tony had created Jocasta—he was certainly entitled to borrow her now and then. Originally, she was just another backup AI, but Thomas had ended up with her, and he was grateful for that. Jocasta had proven to be incredibly useful. Sure, during battles, she might just take notes, but when Thomas needed her, her help was invaluable.

It was impossible to see Jocasta as just lines of code. She was more than that—she was a close companion. "Well, good thing he did. Good morning to you too, Jocasta."

Thomas stepped out of the room, his bare feet feeling the coolness of the floor beneath him. He headed toward the stairs, aiming for the kitchen downstairs. The guest bedrooms, along with his own, were on the second floor, while the kitchen was on the first. That's where he was headed now, planning to whip up a protein shake before diving into breakfast.

Given his size, Thomas needed a lot of food and plenty of space. Thankfully, he had both—a spacious kitchen in his company building. The mansion's kitchen, however, was more modest. It was designed for everyday use, with everything within reach for the average person. It was also set up so that the cooks Thomas occasionally hired could work comfortably when needed.

But for now, it was all his—time to fuel up for the day ahead

With a smile on his face, Thomas strolled into the kitchen and headed straight for the refrigerator. He pulled out a supply of strawberries and milk, then set them on the table behind him. Next, he opened the cabinet to grab the protein powder, placing it alongside the other ingredients. He circled the table and made his way to the blender, a custom-sized appliance built just for him. This particular blender was off-limits to the cooks—it was Thomas's personal tool.

With everything ready, he began preparing his shake. He moved quietly and without hurry, savoring the process.

A few minutes later, the protein shake was ready. Instead of bothering with a mug, he simply picked up the blender cup and headed toward the backyard, leaving the kitchen in a bit of a mess. He'd clean it up when he got back.

Taking a sip from the cup, he asked, "Jocasta, what's on the line today?"

"No incidents in town so far, Boss," came her reply.

"Great news."

If the police scanners were silent, that was always a good sign.

"Then let's—"

"There's something else, Boss."

"Damn it. "

"There's an issue in the middle of Manhattan. A sudden flash. And your least favorite situation—a mutant has just awakened his powers."

"Fuck!"

***

One jump to the building, another to the next.

Jocasta in his visor guided him, and Thomas clenched his teeth in frustration. His morning had already gon downhill, now with a mutant.

He don't like mutants.

Not the individuals themselves, but the unpredictable chaos their powers brought. Most mutants were a bunch of reckless troublemakers, a chaotic mess that made his skin crawl. There were far more mutants than superheroes, and their powers were the result of random genetic flukes. You never knew who might turn out to be one.

Anyone could be a mutant, and any mutant could wield unimaginable power. That unpredictability was what Thomas loathed. The idea that someone could be born with a ticking time bomb of a superpower was terrifying for ordinary people. But that didn't mean mutants should be oppressed or treated like cattle—they were still human, still someone's family.

What Thomas couldn't stand was the chaos, especially the chaos that came with newly awakened mutants. Most of them were teenagers, their powers erupting alongside their raging hormones—a recipe for disaster.

"Right below us, Boss," Jocasta said. Thomas landed on the nearest rooftop, sprinting to the edge to get a better view.

There, in the middle of the road, stood something unusual. A massive rock, standing upright. The road wasn't cracked, nothing seemed broken, so it wasn't a meteorite. It was something that had just appeared. A coffin? A cocoon? He had no clue. "I see him," he muttered.

People had already started gathering around the strange boulder, their curiosity drawing them closer. It was too dangerous.

Thomas pressed a button on the side of his visor, transforming it into goggle mode. Without a second thought, he leaped off the building, aiming to land near the boulder—far enough from the onlookers, but close enough to handle whatever was about to happen.

*HOP*

Thomas braced himself for the landing, expertly distributing the force to minimize damage to the sidewalk. He'd spent years perfecting his landings to achieve results like this.

He landed with precision.

Immediately, he commanded the attention of everyone around.

His work began.

"Please leave the area. Immediately."

The crowd stared at him, especially the children, their eyes wide with awe. A few teenagers edged closer, while those farther back raised their phones to capture the moment.

"I'll say it again. Find cover. Now."

*CRACK*

Thomas's focus remained on clearing the civilians, ignoring the mysterious object for the moment. People's safety always came first. But then, the sound of cracking stone echoed through the street, forcing Thomas to turn around.

The rock, now fully in his view, was enormous—just a foot shorter than him, rectangular, and standing upright with no visible cracks in the ground. Except for the one now spreading across its surface. Something inside was breaking free, confirmed by Inner Sonar.

"Run!" Thomas barked, his eyes locked on the rock.

The crowd finally obeyed, their footsteps retreating behind him.

The crack widened, and Thomas tensed. He didn't know what kind of mutant powers he was about to face, but he knew one thing: newly awakened mutants were often dangerously powerful and utterly out of control in those first few minutes. He'd seen it before, and he was ready to stop this one before it could cause any real damage.

But first, he let the stone cocoon crack open, revealing the threat inside.

*BOOM*

The stone exploded outward. Thomas didn't flinch, his gaze steady as he took in the creature that emerged.

A massive figure, its body composed of roughly hewn stone, resembling a humanoid but with distinctly monstrous features. Its shoulders and head were pointed, giving it a fearsome, inhuman look. Bright yellow eyes glowed with a cold, harsh light.

The creature locked eyes with Goliath.

And then it roared—right in his face.

"RAAAGH!"

Thomas stood his ground, unmoved by the roar. This creature was once human, but now it was just a beast—proof of everything he despised about mutants.

"Nice argument…" he said calmly, almost mockingly. "But there's a problem…"

Before the Golem could react, Thomas's hand was around its neck in a flash.

"I can't hear you over the dirt."

With a powerful motion, he slammed the 12-foot-tall creature into the ground like it weighed nothing. The impact was thunderous, shaking the street.

*BOOM*

No more roars, no struggle. Thomas had crushed the Golem into the ground without giving it a chance.

He crouched beside the fallen creature, lifting it effortlessly by the neck. Their eyes met, and the Golem tried to open its mouth.

"Nope," Thomas muttered, slamming it back down.

*BOOM*

The second impact deepened the crater beneath them.

*BOOM*

Thomas repeated the action, his Inner Sonar alerting him to several figures approaching at high speed.

"Is there something you want to say again?" he asked, his grip unyielding.

"ROA—"

*BOOM*

For the third time, the Golem's head slammed into the ground. Thomas didn't ease his hold for a second.

Then, someone approached—a presence, not a civilian.

"Will you stop it, bub?"

Definitely not a civilian.