Space Rock?

"So we've got two options...Shoot the living shit out of the rock and possibly incur the wrath of the inhabitants of the space rock, or wait for it to invade and eat our babies." Green Lantern joked the options as the League dispatched the most capable of their members.

There were five people floating in space and one in a futuristic looking ship. They were currently surrounding the sweating Martian who donned a painful expression.

The original eight members were all there besides Aquaman and Flash because space. The five there stared hard and long at Green Lantern before returning to think of actual actions that wouldn't result in the general displeasure of the people they protected.

You can't blast something out of the sky because you didn't know what it was. They weren't warmongering savages. They got where they were through diplomatic actions! That was the core ideals of the Justice League!

"Martian Manhunter is still attempting to talk to the Alien." Shazam said, "Maybe we can wa-"

Before Shazam could finish, the gigantic rock broke into several pieces.

…

What the heck is this?

『Welcome to Earth Giligan Shannon| +200 EXP, 10P, Random Low Enhancement[1]』

Why were there floating pieces of text? And why did it say welcome back as if I left Earth? Did I ascend for a bit then come back? Did I black out and society advanced to a point far above my comprehension? What the heck is going on?

I rubbed my eyes to see if staying in the white room was getting to me. But after two eye-rubs, the text was still there.

Great, so it isn't hallucinations. I'm being afflicted with something that my years of watching TV didn't prepare me for. Why was I here again? In this white prison?

A wave of memories assaulted my brain. I was dead. Well alive now but dead not too long ago. I've got a set of memories that could be labeled as me from a different time. Me in a different universe to be exact. A universe that treated the world I was in as a form of entertainment.

The set of memories included an explanation to the floating pieces of text. It was a system. A magical plot device for authors who didn't want to take time in creating a sound character who slowly delves into their powers. It was also a way for authors to jumble pieces of unrelated superpowers together to insure a MC was overpowered.

I just nabbed myself a system. Was I excited? No. Not in the bit. The recent news of death has a way to dampen any mood.

I let that sink in for a while. I know what it felt to die! Mainly because I didn't know how to get out of my situation, I focused on that feeling. It felt hollow, knowing that nothing I ever did in life actually mattered. No matter how non-religious one feels, at death's embrace, it was hard not to reach out to a god. I didn't want to face it alone.

But that was in the past. Now...now I was facing something else. I was in some sort of room with no furniture. Nothing for me to sit or even waste my time with. It was as if I was some sort of prisoner or something.

But my memories say that I'm not a criminal. Sure I've illegally streamed a couple movies but...in this age and time, who hasn't done that? And even that shouldn't warrant an abduction and social distancing. At most I'd have to pay fines or watch the streamed movie again and again and again. Not face this eternal boredom!

I scoffed at the direction my thoughts were heading. I was sure in a couple minutes I'd start debating if streaming illegal movies amounts to eating human baby liver. But what else can I do? I couldn't even pick anything up because there was nothing to pick up. If I couldn't entertain myself, then what else could I do?

Two hours have passed in the room and I was sure I've thought every thought possible. Godzilla V. BeetleJuice was the craziest one. I went against looking through the system...just in case there were cameras here. They might notice my weird movements. I've been here long, but not too long. Definitely not long enough to go insane.

Please do something world!

Suddenly, as if answering the bored Gil's prayers, the doors opened revealing a short stocky african woman in a tight blue dress. She had rather short hair in an afro-esque style. The only difference from an actual afro her hair had was that the sides were tapered.

"Giligan Shannon, Fifteen years old. Bio-terrorist in cahoots with Green-Ivy. Planted bombs in the Triton Oil-Rig and disguised it as a simple pencil case." The lady pushed her glasses up and looked at me. "Normally that would be time in jail. You'd be tried as an adult for the damages that you intended to do."

She walked closer. She even took a pause to study my 'huh' expression?

"Do you know what the consequences of that are?" She asked.

She looked at a wall and it converted to a screen.

What the hell? Y'all had a TV in this room the entire time and didn��t even turn it on? And what is the thing with the bio-terrorist? I didn't do shit! I've been framed! I don't even know what Green-Ivy looks like? You've got the wrong guy!

Even with all the thoughts jumbling around my head, I kept quiet. It was no use voicing everything out when it could just be denied instantly. The room I was in didn't look like one the U.S. publicly built. So my rights as an American would probably be ignored in the facility I was in.

This was the fate of the not-normal. Seeing as how I have a system and remembered what it felt to die, I was officially not-normal.

The screen turned on showing an image of an oil-rig.

"This is a simulation by the scientists and demolition experts of our company. It shows a rather complex chain-reaction that would've occured in the real world if you weren't caught."

What the heck does an oil-rig, the structure atop water have to do with Green-Ivy, the person who is concerned about gardens and shit? Is she advocating for seaweed now? Did I miss the memo or something?

-Boom

The oil-rig suddenly caught on fire as the camera zoomed onto the workers in that area. They screamed. They flailed around. They jumped in the water. Everything they did was for naught as they were burned alive. Some even drowned when they were in the water because of a sensory overload from all the pain.

The screen went black and the woman let me take everything in.

"If the public were to see the reconstruction of the possible event, they'd have you incarcerated. Luckily for you, we see potential." She admitted.

"I'm Amanda B. Waller. I work for the government and I'm very impressed by your dedication to your mission. You've swam 6 miles with 100 pounds worth of explosives in your backpack. You've snuck onto the oil-rig and planted the explosives." She said with an impressed expression.

"If it weren't for one of the workers finding your backpack, you would've gotten away with it too. Although you're a terrorist, you've got the potential to become a resource. And I'm very good at utilizing my resources."