Arthur didn't sleep well. Every time a car backfired in the street below, he jerked awake. He expected to see Cecil Stedman standing in the corner of the room. He expected a squad of soldiers to burst through the door.
By six in the morning, he gave up on rest. He pulled his black hoodie over his white suit. He shoved the blue mask into his pocket and headed for the door. He left the key on the dresser. He had enough cash to find somewhere better later.
He took the subway as far as it would go. He ended up in a graveyard of rusted steel and cracked concrete. This was the old industrial district. It was a maze of abandoned warehouses and shipyards. It was the perfect place to make a mess without getting caught.
"Okay. Flight. Let's do this for real!" Arthur muttered.
He stood in the center of an empty warehouse. The roof was mostly gone. Jagged beams of sunlight cut through the dust. He took a deep breath and tried to find that inner ear sensation again. He tensed his core. He pushed against the air with his mind.
His feet left the ground. He hovered about three feet up. He felt like he was balancing on a giant exercise ball. It was wobbly. Every time he breathed too hard, he tilted.
"Okay. Forward. Just go forward," he told himself.
He leaned his chest forward. Suddenly, he shot across the room. He moved like a rocket, he panicked and tried to stop, but he didn't know how to stop yet.
He slammed into a stack of rusted oil drums. The sound was like a car crash. The metal crumpled instantly. Arthur fell to the floor in a pile of stinking sludge.
'Damn it. That's not how Mark makes it look.'
He stood up and wiped the oil off his hoodie. His Strength kept him from getting hurt, but his pride was taking a beating.
He tried again. And again. For two hours, the warehouse was filled with the sounds of Arthur crashing into things.
He hit walls. He flew through a window. He even accidentally shot straight up and hit a support beam with his head.
Each time, he got a little better at staying level. But flying straight was still a nightmare. If he looked to the left, his whole body followed.
"It's like trying to drive a shopping cart with a bad wheel!" Arthur grunted.
He sat down on a concrete block to catch his breath. As he sat there, he felt something strange. It was a dark, heavy pulse at the back of his mind. It felt like a shadow was crouching in his skull.
He rubbed his temples. The feeling was thick. It made his skin feel tight and itchy.
'Is it the system? Or just the stress?'
He shook it off. He had work to do. He stood up to try one more flight path when he heard voices. They were coming from inside the industrial complex, just a few buildings over.
"I'm telling you, the shipment is in the back. Boss said we move it at noon!"
Arthur crept toward the sound. He looked through a gap in a corrugated metal wall. There were four of them. They weren't normal muggers. One of them had skin that looked like cracked stone.
Another had hands that glowed with a faint, sickly green light.
'Super-powered thugs. Scum!'
In the world of Invincible, these were the guys who usually got beaten up in the background of a comic panel.
"Hey! Are you guys lost?" Arthur called out.
He stepped out from the shadows. He had his blue mask on. He left the hoodie unzipped so he could move his arms. He felt a weird surge of adrenaline. He wasn't scared this time. He felt superior.
The man with the stone skin turned around. He let out a low growl.
"Who the hell are you? Some new hero trying to make a name for himself?"
The glowing-hand guy laughed. "Look at the suit. It's white. Probably some rich kid"
Arthur didn't wait for them to finish their tough guy routine. He wanted to test his new power. He walked right up to the stone-skinned man.
"Hit me," Arthur said.
The man blinked. "What?"
"I said hit me. Give me your best shot. Don't hold back."
The thug didn't need a second invitation. He roared and wound up a massive, rocky fist. He swung it with everything he had. The punch landed squarely on Arthur's chest.
THOOM.
The impact sent a shockwave through the warehouse. Arthur felt his feet slide back an inch. But inside his body, something happened. Kinetic Redirection kicked in. He felt the force of the punch enter his chest, but instead of breaking his ribs, it turned into a hot, buzzing energy.
It felt like a battery being charged.
'That's it. I feel it!'
Arthur looked up at the stone man. The thug's eyes were wide with shock. His hand was probably hurting. Arthur didn't give him a chance to pull back.
He channeled that buzzing energy into his own right hand. He remembered the Viltrumite from the red planet. The way his hand had been flat, like a blade.
"Knife Hand."
Arthur swung his arm in a horizontal arc. His hand moved so fast it made a whistling sound in the air.
SHING.
His hand went through the man's neck. The stone-like skin offered as much resistance as wet cardboard. The thug's head was severed instantly. It flew across the room and bounced off a brick wall with a dull thud.
The body stayed standing for a second, blood Pouring from his neck, before collapsing.
[Ding! Enemy Defeated. +50 Experience.]
The other three men froze. The glowing-hand guy's jaw dropped. He looked at his dead friend and then back at Arthur.
"You... you killed him! You're not a hero!"
"I never said I was," Arthur said.
He felt a cold, arrogant smirk growing on his face. He liked this feeling. These people were nothing.
The glowing-hand guy screamed and fired a bolt of green energy. Arthur tried to fly out of the way, but his flight was still clumsy. He veered too far to the right and crashed into a metal pillar.
The energy bolt hit his back. It burned. It hurt a lot more than the punch.
'My constitution is too low! I can't take energy hits yet.'
He scrambled up. The two other thugs, who didn't have powers but had guns, started spraying bullets. Arthur felt the lead bouncing off his suit. It stung like bees, but it didn't penetrate.
He ignored the shooters and focused on the glowing guy. He sprinted forward. His speed was terrifying. Even though he was just running.
He reached the man in a heartbeat. He used the knife hand again, this time vertical. He brought his hand down across the man's shoulder.
The blade-like strike sliced through the man's collarbone and deep into his chest. Arthur didn't stop. He pulled his hand back and shoved it straight into the man's stomach. He felt the wet warmth of organs.
He twisted his hand and pulled it out. The glowing-hand guy fell to his knees, clutching his leaking intestines. He looked up at Arthur, begging for mercy with his eyes.
Arthur just looked at him. There was no pity. There was no moment of hesitation.
"Villains are villains," Arthur whispered.
He kicked the man's head. The force of the blow snapped the man's neck, ending his suffering instantly.
The two gunmen dropped their weapons and tried to run. They were sobbing. They were terrified of the monster in the white suit.
"Please! We're just henchmen! We don't want to die!"
Arthur didn't care. He caught up to the first one and grabbed him by the throat. He squeezed. The man's windpipe crushed like a dry twig.
The last one made it to the warehouse door. Arthur decided to try his flight one last time. He launched himself. He didn't fly straight, he spiraled like a falling leaf, but he had enough momentum.
He crashed into the man's back, pinning him to the ground. The impact shattered the man's spine. Arthur stood up and looked down at the wreckage.
Four bodies. Silence.
He wiped his blood-stained hands on his jeans. He didn't feel disgusted at all. He felt as powerful as thragg.
"System. Show me my progress."
[God Tier System: Status Window]
[Host: Arthur Sterling]
[Race: Viltrumite (Incomplete)]
[Level: 1] [Stats:]
[Strength: 16]
[Dexterity: 9]
[Constitution: 3]
[Intelligence: 3]
[Wisdom: 3]
[Superpowers:]
[Flight (Basic)] [Super Strength (Basic)] [Kinetic Redirection (Minor)]
[Experience: 150/200]
[Notice: You are approaching Level 2. Level up to increase all base stats.]
'Almost there. One more fight and I'll level up.'
He walked over to the crates the thugs were guarding. He broke the lock with a flick of his finger. Inside were stacks of cash and some high-tech gadgets. He didn't care about the gadgets, but he took the money.
He left the warehouse, his mind already planning his next move. But his flight was still a mess.
As he walked away, that dark pulse in his mind throbbed again.