Chicago woke slowly beneath a gray morning sky, the streets already humming with traffic and distant sirens. Inside a modest two-story house on the south side, seventeen-year-old Mark Grayson slept sprawled across his bed, half buried under tangled sheets. His room looked like a shrine to heroes.
Posters of Captain America, Iron Man, and Spider-Man covered the walls, watching over stacks of comics, schoolbooks, and clothes that never quite made it into the hamper. Mark's dark hair was a mess, and his peaceful expression lasted only until a voice thundered up the stairs.
"MARK GRAYSON! WAKE UP! YOU'RE GONNA BE LATE FOR SCHOOL!"
Mark's eyes snapped open. He groaned into his pillow, then rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling like it had personally offended him. After a long yawn and a lazy stretch, he dragged himself upright and muttered, "I hate school." He stumbled across the room, got dressed in jeans and a hoodie, and headed downstairs with the slow determination of someone marching toward execution.
The kitchen smelled like toast and coffee. Debbie Grayson stood at the counter in work clothes, already put together in the effortless way adults somehow managed. She glanced over as Mark entered. "Morning, sleeping beauty."
"Morning, Mom." Mark leaned over and kissed her cheek before grabbing a bowl from the cabinet. He poured cereal into it with one hand and milk with the other, barely awake enough to aim properly.
Debbie smiled as she slid her purse onto a chair. "You excited for your senior year of high school?"
Mark dropped into a seat and shoveled in the first bite. "No. I wish I could graduate right now."
"That's the spirit," Debbie said dryly.
She reached for the remote and turned on the television mounted over the counter. The morning news flashed dramatic footage of burning streets, damaged buildings, and flying figures in battle. The anchor's voice carried through the kitchen.
"…..new details emerge after yesterday's alien invasion was stopped by the recently formed Avengers…."
Mark nearly dropped his spoon. "Wait… aliens are real?"
He stared at the screen, eyes wide with the kind of excitement only a lifelong superhero fan could have. But then he noticed the silence beside him. Debbie had gone completely still.
Her hand trembled around the remote. Her eyes were locked on the television, but she didn't seem to be seeing it. The color had drained from her face, and for a second she looked somewhere far away somewhere Mark couldn't reach.
"Mom?"
No response.
He stood and lightly touched her arm. Debbie jolted like she'd been shocked, turning to him with raw fear in her eyes. It was gone almost as quickly as it appeared. She blinked hard and forced a smile that didn't reach her face.
"Mark?"
He frowned. "Mom, are you okay?"
"Yeah," she said too quickly. "I'm fine. Just tired." She straightened up and gestured toward the clock. "You need to get to school before you're late."
Mark hesitated, but finally nodded. "Okay." He finished the last few bites of cereal, grabbed his backpack, and headed for the front door. "See you later."
"Have a good day," Debbie called, her voice steadier now.
The door shut behind him, and the house fell quiet. Debbie remained standing in the kitchen for a long moment, staring at the television as footage of the invasion replayed again and again. Then she turned it off.
Her shoulders sagged. She moved to the cabinet above the fridge, pulled down a bottle of wine, and poured herself a glass with shaking hands.
"It's been seventeen years," she whispered to the empty room. "And he still haunts me." She took a long drink.
Chicago High
Mark stood in front of his locker, spinning the dial absentmindedly as he tried to wake up properly. The hallway around him was already alive with gossip about the news from earlier that morning, everyone talking over each other about aliens, destruction, and heroes who apparently saved New York from something most of them could barely comprehend.
The moment Mark opened his locker, a familiar voice drifted in from beside him.
"Aliens attacking New York… nuts, right?"
Mark didn't even look over at first. He just grabbed his books, expression flat. "I saw."
The voice named William leaned closer like he always did when something exciting was happening. "That new team called the Avengers almost lost too. Like, actually almost lost."
"Yeah," Mark said, finally shutting his locker. "They did. The reason they won though was Captain America."
William scoffed immediately, like he'd been waiting for that exact answer. "You are such a Captain America maniac. Why aren't you a Hawkeye guy? He's the underdog. You probably root for the Yankees too."
Mark just shrugged, adjusting his backpack. "Underdogs are cool. I just think Cap is better."
Before Mark could walk away, William stepped in closer, suddenly animated again. "Sure, he's Mr. Hotness with the blonde hair, blue eyes that sparkle like the sky, and his ass oh my god!"
Mark froze mid-step, slowly turning his head. "I didn't need to hear that."
William didn't even blink. "Sorry. Straight stuff. Anyway…." he leaned in like nothing happened "….you up for some Xenoverse later? I almost beat that Cooler and Frieza quest, but Goku is no help at all so please help me?"
Mark gave him a guilty look, already knowing where this was going. "I've got that job after school."
William groaned immediately, like Mark had personally betrayed him. "Don't bring up that stupid job, man. Don't be that person."
Mark sighed. "When's the last time you bought manga? Those things are expensive. They're dropping a new One Piece volume with all of Wano, and I need that."
William looked at him like he'd just admitted something criminal. "You are in the stupidest stuff. Who even likes One Piece? It's too long."
Mark opened his mouth to respond to that blasphemy but the conversation was cut off before he could fire back.
A sharp voice echoed down the hallway.
"Knock it off, Todd!"
Both Mark and William turned their heads and saw girl stood a few lockers down clearly fed up. She was looking directly at a blonde guy who had been leaning way too close to her.
Todd smirked like this was a game to him. "Come on, quit playing games, Amber. I know you're crazy about me. Marcy told me."
Amber didn't even hesitate. "Well, you are big and strong, aren't you?"
Todd flexed immediately, grinning. "You know it."
Amber's expression didn't change. "You think that makes it okay to harass me?"
She turned to leave, but Todd stepped forward and grabbed her arm.
"Don't walk away from me!" he snapped. "What are you, a lesbian or something?"
Amber rolled her eyes hard enough to make it insulting. "Oh my god, I wish. Would you leave me alone then?"
She tried to pull away again, but his grip tightened.
Mark had been watching without realizing he was even moving closer. William noticed immediately and grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back just slightly.
"Don't," William said quietly. "He's twice your size."
Mark didn't take his eyes off Todd. His voice came out calmer than he expected. "Cap says he hates bullies. I do too."
William shook his head. "You're not Captain America, man."
Mark stepped forward anyway.
"Hey," Mark called out.
Todd turned, annoyed, still holding Amber's arm. "What?"
For a second, everything slowed down. Mark wasn't thinking about consequences or size or anything William had said. He just saw someone being held against their will in a hallway full of people pretending not to notice.
Mark reached them. "Let her go."
Todd looked him up and down like he was a joke. Then he laughed.
"You serious?"
Before Mark could even react, Todd swung and the punch landed in Mark's stomach with a dull impact and for a normal person, it would've been enough to drop them instantly. But Mark barely moved. The hit felt strange, like it connected but didn't matter the way it should've. Amber, quick as lightning, kicked Todd hard where it mattered most.
Todd let out a pained shout, stumbling backward and releasing her instantly. His face went red with humiliation as he doubled over, trying to recover while students nearby finally reacted with shocked murmurs
Mark just stood there for a second, still processing what had happened, as Todd retreated down the hallway clutching himself and swearing under his breath.
Amber adjusted her sleeve, exhaling like she'd just dealt with a minor inconvenience. She looked at Mark briefly, nodding.
"Thanks."
Then she walked off without waiting for a response.
William slowly approached Mark again, wide-eyed. "Dude… you just almost died for a girl you don't even know."
Mark looked down at his hands, then back at the hallway where everything had already gone back to normal like nothing happened.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "I know."
Timeskip
The moon hung low over Chicago, casting a pale silver glow across the quiet streets behind a McDonald's that had just finished its late-night rush.
The dining room lights were off, the drive-thru was empty, and the only sound left was the distant hum of traffic fading into the early hours of the morning. The world felt slower back here, like the city had finally exhaled after holding its breath all day.
Mark walked out the back door with a trash bag slung over his shoulder, the rubber ties stretched tight in his grip. His uniform felt heavier than usual not because of the job, but because of the exhaustion settling into his bones after a long shift.
He rolled his shoulders as he stepped into the alley, letting out a tired breath as he tried to push through the last task of the night.
"Just think of the One Piece manga…" he muttered to himself, almost like a mantra. "Money you get when you get paid…"
It was a stupid little thing he said sometimes, a way to make the job feel less pointless. He pictured stacks of manga volumes, new releases, and the excitement of finally getting something he'd been waiting for. It helped, in a way. It made the work feel temporary.
Mark reached the dumpster at the edge of the alley and paused for half a second, adjusting his grip on the bag. The night was quiet enough that he could hear his own breathing, slow and steady, mixed with the faint rustle of wind between buildings. Without really thinking about it, he gave the bag a casual toss toward the open dumpster lid.
What happened next didn't register as normal as the trash bag didn't arc downward like it should have. It didn't even hesitate in the air. Instead, the moment it left his hand, it shot upward with violent speed straight into the night sky like it had been launched from something far more powerful than a human throw.
Mark froze instantly, his arm still extended, watching as the black plastic shape became smaller and smaller until it disappeared entirely beyond the rooftops and into the clouds above.
For a long moment, he didn't move. He just stood there, staring at the empty space where the bag had been, waiting for his brain to correct what he had just seen.
Something simple. Something logical. A mistake, maybe. Wind, maybe. Anything that would make sense. But nothing came. His eyes slowly dropped to the remaining trash bag in his other hand.
"No way…" he whispered under his breath.
Almost mechanically, like he needed proof that reality hadn't broken, he grabbed the second bag and threw it the same way. Same motion. Same strength. Same casual flick of the arm.
It vanished upward immediately and Mark's stomach dropped.
"What the fuck?!" The words came out sharp and unfiltered, echoing slightly in the empty alley as he stumbled back a step. His heart suddenly felt too loud in his chest, like it was trying to keep up with something his body couldn't explain.
He turned toward the dumpster, eyes narrowing now, as if it had personally betrayed him. Slowly, almost cautiously, he reached out and placed both hands on its edge. It was metal, heavy, bolted into place something that should not move easily, even for someone stronger than average.
He pulled and the dumpster lifted off the ground without resistance. It just rose, as if gravity had politely decided to stop caring. Mark's eyes widened in pure disbelief as the entire container came up with him, hovering slightly in his grip like it weighed nothing at all.
He held it there for a second too long, completely frozen, before letting it drop back down with a loud metallic crash that echoed through the alley.
Mark took a shaky step back, staring at his hands like they didn't belong to him anymore. His mind was trying to catch up, trying to build a framework around something that didn't fit inside anything he understood.
Nothing about him looked different. But everything felt different like the world was suddenly built for a version of him that didn't exist yesterday.
Mark looked up at the sky again, the same sky where his trash bags had disappeared, and for the first time in his life, he had no idea what he was supposed to do next.