I remember The Fairly OddParents: Channel Chasers.
I always thought being inside the web would be something like that… reality, however, tends to be disappointing.
It's not like surfing the internet. It's more like… observing. I shift my perspective at different angles, taking in information and processing it in milliseconds.
If I want to focus on something specific, it's the human equivalent of squinting to sharpen vision. Instead of "information in the palm of my hand," it's "information within reach of my eyes."
Time passed quickly inside the web. In reality? Barely eight miserable minutes.
My body slides out of the computer, crawling beneath the door, heading for the exit.
—Swoosh—
A burly man pushes the door open, shutting it behind him.
He looks around, thinking he heard something…
After a few seconds, he shrugs it off and keeps walking.
If he had looked up, he would have seen an acre-colored puddle with white streaks clinging to the ceiling right above him. Definitely a horror movie scene… I'll jot that down on my "things to do with bad people" list. I can already imagine the screams.
Slipping past the door, I keep sliding across the ceiling. Nobody ever looks up, so where better to hide than where no one's watching?
I reach the library's public restroom and, after making sure it's empty, wait for the transformation to finish.
—ACK!!
I clutch my head with both hands, crouching. The flood of information shoots through my brain like a bullet.
Blood drips from my nose. I wipe it away and stumble to the sink, splashing water on my face to calm down.
For a Mechamorph, this kind of data is nothing. But for my human brain? Different story. I'd need to compress it into smaller sections to keep it from frying my neurons.
Even so, ignoring the near brain hemorrhage, I got what I wanted.
SHIELD exists. And it's compromised. Just like in the cinematic universe, HYDRA is a silent parasite inside the organization.
Oscorp Industries still has Norman at the helm, with Harry Osborn alive and well. So Venom won't be coming through the Norman–Harry route.
Green Goblin? For now, it looks like Osborn Sr. still has all his pieces in play.
Meanwhile, Jameson's kid is still in space. I'll have to keep an eye out when he comes back—pretty sure he won't be alone.
The Fantastic Four? Not here yet. But a spacecraft with five crew members under Von Doom Industries went missing almost three months ago. They won't be long.
Wakanda still pretends to be a poor, weak country.
Bolivar Trask is still operating, kidnapping and experimenting on mutants. His most ambitious project—the Sentinels—is still underway. Thankfully, he hasn't turned his gaze to Mystique.
Although… there have been two massive energy spikes near the X-Mansion. Xavier claims it was just one mutant's powers acting up. But unless Storm and Cyclops decided to push their powers to the max, only a few things could cause readings like that.
So I can only assume Bishop or Cable have been dabbling with time travel.
Didn't think it would be brushed off so easily, but the president and several mutant benefactors have spoken in their defense. Xavier… I hope you're not tampering with the minds of the president and other powerful figures.
The most worrying confirmation, though…
Is the existence of Selene Gallio.
She's changed her look countless times, traveled the globe, sometimes pretending to be her own daughter. Or "dying," only to reappear months later on the other side of the world.
I tracked her trail as much as I could, but for the last decade she's stayed well out of focus.
I only spotted traces thanks to discovering the Hellfire Club.
From there, it was just a matter of following Donald Pierce and combing through his files.
There's a lot to process, to keep in mind, and to plan countermeasures for.
For now, the most urgent thing is the Chitauri invasion.
Just last night, Loki Odinson's attack and capture were reported. I can assume his schemes, just like in the movie, are already in motion.
The problem is the variables. Who's to say others won't take advantage of the chaos?
Or how the involvement of other heroes will shift everything.
As I leave the library, I glance at the papers in my hand.
I hadn't just been digging for information.
I couldn't keep living as a ghost. At fifteen, dirty and malnourished, nobody would take me seriously.
I couldn't rent a room, open a bank account, or even buy a damn coffee without someone asking questions.
So I decided to stop being a lost kid—and become someone who actually existed.
If life has taught me anything, it's that people believe more in paper than in words.
So that's what I did.
Born in Illinois, only child, parents killed in a car accident, placed in state care, vanished for years in the foster system… and finally emancipated by court order due to "extraordinary circumstances."
Emancipation—that was the key.
Young, yes. But legally independent. I could rent, open accounts, travel—all without anyone daring to question me. Ultra T didn't just fill out the forms—it sealed them digitally.
Forged judicial signatures, notarized seals, and left such a convincing trail that any bored investigator would find exactly what they expected: another tragic case of a kid forced to survive alone.
In minutes, I existed in state, medical, and financial databases. I was born, I studied, I suffered tragedies, and I was "released" from the foster system.
A fictional life more real than the truth.
I printed my birth certificate, emancipation papers, and Social Security card.
The damn paper trembled in my hands. Never had a document felt so heavy.
Before leaving, I erased all traces of my physical presence: cameras, access logs, system records—gone. To the world, I was never there. To the world, I had always been here.
Physical witnesses?
The receptionist would forget me the moment she got home and wondered what to cook for dinner.
Now I was a full-fledged U.S. citizen.
I folded the papers, tucking them into an inner pocket of my jacket.
Printed out a map, highlighting points of interest for convenience.
Guiding myself through the streets, it took me about 30 minutes to find the right route and arrive at my destination.
================================================================
—Grrrgluuuurrrg—
I rubbed my stomach. I hadn't eaten since last night… putting aside Doctor Connors' scaly arm.
Couldn't help it. Instinct and hunger won.
The First National Bank of Omaha smelled of cheap disinfectant. I walked up to the counter with the expression of a worn-out teenager.
"I lost my debit card," I said, placing my freshly printed Social Security card on the counter.
The teller picked it up, scanned it, and smiled with professional courtesy.
"We can issue a replacement for $15, Mr. Keller."
"Perfect. Take it from my account," I replied.
A few keystrokes later, she nodded.
"Current balance: $2,297.64. Would you like to withdraw cash as well?"
"Yes, two hundred, please."
She nodded again, handing me the cash and a receipt.
Balance: $2,097.64.
She also slid over an envelope with a temporary card. I ran my fingers across it, feeling the chip's texture.
It was official. It was real.
I walked out of the bank without looking back, relaxed. I had an identity, money in my pocket, and a face no one would connect to anything.
Just a normal 15-year-old kid, invisible in the crowd.
Nicolás Keller had been born that morning, and the world already accepted him.
Ironic, considering the boy before me had lived 15 years without anyone noticing.
You might say—
"Hey genius, if you could pull all that off, why not put more money in your account? You wouldn't have to live on the streets and could buy a house and live comfortably."
Well, dear voice in my head, I've got my reasons.
Sure, I can create trails and fake lives digitally, but more money means more questions: where did it come from, what did I do with it, why now? Too much hassle.
Besides, draining the accounts of mob bosses or monsters would cause chaos. They'd panic, hunt for suspects, hurt innocents until they found someone to blame.
Who knows how many lives would be lost just so I could live comfortably.
No. Reality doesn't work like that. I'll deal with them eventually, but the right way—minimizing collateral damage.
And lastly—I refuse to steal money. Doesn't matter if it's unused or if no one notices a dollar missing.
I don't steal. Never have, never will.
Besides, I don't need much. With the Omnitrix, something as mundane as money is easy enough to conjure. Having too much would only be a burden.
I'll keep my identity secret until I can unlock the Master Control—or at least fix the time limit.
================================================================
"One hotdog, please," I said, handing the vendor two dollars.
The man, mid-40s, nodded with a smile, taking the money and preparing the bun and toppings.
"Rough day, kid?" he asked, glancing at me while working.
He handed me the hotdog and gestured toward the condiments.
"Something like that. But it's almost all sorted out, you know? Today's actually a good day."
As I added chips, mayo, and ketchup, sirens wailed in the distance.
"That's good. I don't mean to pry, but… you don't look so good. A boy like you should be at home with parents who care, getting ready for school…" He looked at my clothes. "Wearing clean clothes that fit."
I finished dressing the hotdog, smiled faintly, and replied:
"Yeah, well, I don't have that kind of luck." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw patrol cars and fire trucks racing past. "But life gives you chances, and… I decided to take one recently." I took a big bite, devouring it fast.
The vendor watched me eat, smiling slightly.
"I've got some clothes my son doesn't use anymore. If you want, I'll be here tomorrow at this time. You can swing by and take them."
I wiped the crumbs from my face.
"I'd be really grateful, sir."
He offered his hand.
"Call me William."
I shook it firmly.
"Nicolás. Nice to meet you."
"So Nicolás, what's next now that things are looking up?" he asked, cleaning his cart and settling into a folding chair.
I watched three fire trucks and five ambulances rush by, led by four police cruisers.
They sped off, quickly vanishing into the distance.
My hand slid to my wrist, adjusting the dial.
"Help," I said, meeting his eyes. "You helped me, now it's my turn to give someone else a hand, right?"
He raised an eyebrow, smiling curiously.
As for me—I broke into a run, darting into the first dark alley I found.
Glanced around… no one.
Perfect.
As I pressed the dial, my heart pounded with excitement. I couldn't help but shout as green light engulfed me:
"IT'S HERO TIME!!"
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That'll be it for now.
I'll start writing the chapter I owe you and probably have it ready for Thursday or Friday.
UNLESS!!
I see a lot of support from you guys—and squeeze my brain to get that chapter done tomorrow instead. Meaning two chapters tomorrow.
Hope you're all doing well. Wishing you a great week.
Take care. :)
Special thanks for the support with the stones to:
DaoistcmrqRkBeliart3006JayTheNoobDaoistAHWwxbkyumark