On the 12th of April 1961, the first human reached space. With this, humanity would change forever, as this achievement caught the attention of something beyond the realm of the gods.
The Guideline descended over the earth. Nobody knew the origins or its goals, but that was not relevant. Not even its creators knew that anymore, as it had evolved far from what the gods had expected it to be. It was so big and complex that it even became magic for the hands that crafted it. Such fundamental reality-twisting properties it had that it even changed its birth to become its origin point. Something that was beyond anything, and now that humanity had proven worthy, it had descended over it.
Its rules were strange, arbitrary, cruel, and even sadistic. Strange decisions like only giving power to women in 99% of cases, or giving them perks that were based on luck or were almost ironic. It was not strange that a person stabbed multiple times would gain a knife-based superpower.
Nothing would ever compare with the horror of the day when the skies cracked and the Apostles of the Guidelines judged humanity's use of itself. From the first attack to the last stand, it was a nightmare from beginning to end.
Trillions died across each different version of Earth. Supers were discarded like used tissue after they filled their role in the last fight for humanity's future. However, in the end, they won, but they paid a massive price. Completely destroyed worlds, countless people killed, and, most importantly, hundreds of supers scattered around different broken realities without rhyme or reason.
The war was won, but it was a Pyrrhic victory.
This was the destiny of Max Power, a young Texan man who was forced to awaken his guideline in the first hour and sent to fight with what were basically gods.
He didn't even add a lot to the battle since this event lasted only 72 hours, and his power did not have a lot of time to grow. But each little grain of sand contributed in one way or another to make the impossible.
A message window appeared in front of the man as he was in a black void of pure darkness, stuck between the realm of the sleeping and the awakened.
[Name: Max Power]
[Power: Self-embodiment of perfection: The user is a biokinetic with an innate understanding of it, with the ability to modify the biology of his own organism. He can also gain any biological information about any carbon-based life form he touches. However, this power has two main disadvantages.
The first one is that it takes from seconds to minutes to make any change to the user's body. This will make healing mid-combat really difficult and modification impossible. The second one is that the user needs the material in order to make the modification. He cannot create biological tissue from thin air.
[Current mutations: -]
Of course, Max had zero mutations; after all, he was used like a 3D printer of biological materials during the whole battle. A living pool of tissue and an organ market.
Before he could react, the young man struck his head with something hard, and everything went black.
When Max woke up, he was surrounded by concrete walls. A dying fluorescent light was the only thing that allowed him to see anything. The room was damp enough to make some puddles on the tile floor.
Now that his eyes were getting used to the emergency light, he saw that this place was an office. Chairs on the ground, messy desks, a cup of musty coffee, and, most importantly, dry blood splattered on the grey walls and dusty floors.
Max came from the end of the world; it was normal to be in a place like this, so he did not feel any fear. On the contrary.
"Holy shit! I am alive!" He screamed with pure happiness.
Then the weight of having survived a multiversal massacre struck him. How close to the end it was. The things that he saw, the maximum levels of despair, and the forced mind control he underwent.
(That trauma is a problem for future Max.) He thought, kicking this can down the road.
"Take that, you fucking garbage bin alien gods! You bitches are not so powerful when you get a taste of your own bullshit powers, right?!" Max exclaimed again, making a lot of noise and being high in this overwhelming sense of victory.
He took a deep breath and nodded. ("They are going to write storybooks about me!") He thought to himself.
("The amount of laid I will get. . .") Max continues with that train of thought, unaware of his current situation. The man wanted and deserved some vacations; that would be fair, but the world he had landed in was far from fair.
However, he was in an unknown place. As far as he knew, this could be an Earth ruled by lizard people or even Detroit. The last thing that Max should have done was let his guard down, as he was doing now.
He made a general checkup on him. The man still had his old hoodie that initially was gray, but after fighting with the Apostles, had become black. Shoulder-high black messy hair, the longest they allowed him to have in the coffee shop where he used to work. Pale skin that made it clear that he and the sun were not the best of friends. Finally, the first change that the teenager made to his body was red irises. A small test with his powers before getting turned into a meat factory.
("I have no mutation that can win against a bullet . . . yet.")
Claws, scales, and most of that stuff were no challenge to a thug with a gun. Becoming a huge brute and crushing people was the first idea he had, but not the smartest one. As he was now, the man needed to train more before getting into a serious fight.
The five priorities of a super were attack, defense, mobility, scouting, and healing. There was, however, another important one that villains and vigilantes needed more than anything: stealth.
("Sneaking around will be the best solution.")
Upgrading his senses would be the best start. He had fat and other chunks of meat in his body that he could use as material, like his appendix, and the change was so small that it didn't require a lot.
("Better ears . . . let's not put pain receptors there.")
They became bigger, elf-like. He could hear even the water drops falling in the distance, and another sound.
Max gains:
Elf ears: Bigger and more refined ears that allow the user to increase their range of audition.
[Warning! Self-embodiment of perfection will enter a cooldown; please wait for more mutations.]
A reminder that he had used his power a lot before struck him. Normally, Max would have at least four uses per day of his power to create a mutation. However, the "mutated organs" that were created during the fight were all removed and given to other supers.
(Rats? Maybe? It is too far.)
He turned off all the pain in his body. If something was wrong with him, his power would give him the information.
Now that everything was set and done, it was time for him to explore the office.
There was not a lot of relevant stuff at first, just a key card surrounded by a huge pool of dry blood. It said something about level 2 security access, but it was too hard to read with the dim light of the place.
Max grabbed it and squinted his eyes, taking it as close as possible to the bleeding red light oozing from the roof. Then Max's eyes went wide as he recognized the symbol.
A pair of black goat horns. He was in a Black Goat facility.
That didn't make a lot of sense since the damage was too old to be made by the fight with the Apostles.
(Maybe one of their experiments escaped and killed everybody in the facility? . . . that would not be something new. Maybe that monster even ate the bodies.)
The man shook his head and took a deep breath.
("Ok, relax. You survive the apostles. You can survive some cannibal suits in an abandoned building. Fuck, I could be that dude on another occasion.") After all, his power set made him the prime candidate for this faction to kidnap.
("Being 100% honest . . . I can see why someone would go into a murderous rampage against them.")
Max's train of thought was stopped by the noise of something getting closer to his area. Step, slow and heavy steps that slowly mixed with deep and ragged breaths.
The room had only one exit and entry door, so he needed to think fast.
Max grabbed a paperweight from a desk before hiding under it. It was just a big black rectangle, but it had enough mass to be considered a weapon.
The small frame of the man allowed him to easily hide under it as he listened to the door slowly opening like something was pushing in.