Four days had zipped by since Mark joined the Teen Team, and things were falling into place for him—just like in the original Invincible series.
After some late-night chats and training sessions with his dad, Omni-Man, he'd settled on his hero name: Invincible.
He'd even scored his superhero costume, the real deal—bright yellow and blue with that bold black "I" splashed across the chest, exactly like the show.
Right now, he was soaring above the city, cutting through the clouds, the wind whipping past him as he took it all in.
From up there, the skyline looked different—smaller, quieter, like he was a whole new person seeing it for the first time.
I wasn't stalking him or anything—okay, maybe I was keeping tabs, but just to see when exactly will omni man do his work, as in the series it didn't specify… like how many days or weeks later did omni man boom the guardian of the globe.
In the invincible series, after an invincible fight with killkannon, it was straight time skip to the guardians of the globe getting emergency signals one by one to assemble on their base.
Or they did do it in the comics or specify it in the comics but I didn't really focus too much on it or something, floated nearby, out of sight, munching on a lollipop I'd bought from a store earlier, my Six Eyes tracking him lazily under my black glasses. He was doing loops, grinning like a kid, totally in his element.
He was improving very much as team teens especially robot helped him in his training like landing, flying faster, and some hand to hand combat training, but he still didn't participated in any real villain fights as there wasn't any chance.
But like someone heard his wish ans Then—bang bang bang—gunshots rang out below, sharp and loud enough to cut through the hum of the city. Mark's head snapped toward the sound, and I perked up too, pulling the lollipop out of my mouth.
'Gunshots? Oh, right—probably Killcannon,' I thought, piecing it together. Killcannon was his first villain in the series after he was flying in his new suit. In the series, Killcannon was this villain or thug or something whatever with a tricked-out arm cannon, always causing trouble.
Just as I clocked it, a loud BOOM echoed up—Killcannon's signature blast. I leaned over the edge of a cloud and saw it: a streak of energy tearing through multiple buildings, concrete and glass exploding outward.
Down on the street, police cars screeched to a stop, cops piling out and firing at him, their bullets pinging off his armored frame like they were nothing.
He laughed, a rough, grating sound, and aimed his cannon again, probably showing off for the cops—"Look what I can do, losers!"—blasting another hole through a storefront just to prove a point.
The police ducked behind their cars, shouting into radios, but they weren't even scratching him.
Mark froze mid-flight, staring down at the chaos, his new costume catching the sunlight. I could tell he was itching to dive in—first real test as Invincible. I smirked, twirling the lollipop stick between my fingers.
Invincible—Mark—heard the gunshots echoing up from the city below, and without a second thought, he tilted downward and boomed through the sky, a streak of yellow and blue cutting through the clouds.
His new costume fluttered as he zeroed in on the noise, moving fast—ten, maybe twenty seconds tops—before he reached the spot where Killcannon was wreaking havoc.
The guy was still down there, arm cannon smoking, laughing like a maniac as police bullets bounced off him uselessly.
Mark didn't hesitate or strategize; he just dove in, rookie instincts kicking in, and swung a fist right at Killcannon's ugly mug.
The punch connected with a loud crack, and the impact sent Killcannon flying—straight through the nearest building.
Brick and glass exploded outward as he smashed a jagged hole in the wall, tumbling through desks and drywall before skidding to a stop in a cloud of dust on the other side.
The cops flinched, ducking behind their cars as debris rained down, and a few pedestrians screamed, scattering from the scene.
Mark hovered there, fists clenched, breathing hard, looking half-shocked at what he'd just done.
I was now standing on the side road but far away from the actual fight, lollipop still in hand, watching the whole thing unfold with a raised eyebrow.
'Yup, there it is,' I thought, sucking on the candy. I'd seen it a hundred of times in the series—heroes jumping into fights without a plan, letting villains trash stuff first or using them like wrecking balls.
Punch, slam, crash—buildings take the hit, streets get torn up, and the collateral damage racks up like it's a contest.
Mark's first move as Invincible? Same deal. One punch, one hole in a building, and probably a hefty repair bill.
'He could have done that very simply like just destroying the hand cannon killcannon has on his hand with his strength which would be as simple as crushing some ant, but he's gotta punch him for the heck of it,' I mused, smirking as I twirled the lollipop stick. Killcannon groaned in the rubble, already stirring, and I figured round two was about to start.
Invincible—didn't stop with that first punch. He kept going, hammering Killcannon with a flurry of blows, each one landing with a thud that echoed down the street.
His fists flew, and Killcannon's body became a battering ram—crashing through parked cars, smashing them into crumpled heaps, and plowing into a fire hydrant that ripped free, spraying water everywhere.
Another punch sent him skidding across the pavement, tearing up asphalt and slamming into a storefront, shattering the glass and bending the metal frame.
Property damage piled up fast—cars totaled, windows gone, water gushing—and Mark didn't even pause to think about yanking that cannon off Killcannon's arm. He just kept swinging, rookie adrenaline in full gear.
After a wild minute of this, Mark had punched Killcannon a full kilometer from where the police were, leaving a trail of wrecked streets behind them.
Killcannon sprawled in the dirt, battered but still conscious, coughing as he pushed himself up on one elbow.
His armor was scratched, his face smeared with grime, but he wasn't out yet. "Who the hell are you?!" he rasped, glaring up at Mark.
Invincible hovered above him, chest heaving, fists still clenched. He pointed down, voice steady despite the mess. "You might as well give up. I'm Invincible."
I watched the whole thing from a few hundred metres away, standing with my lollipop dangling from my mouth, staring at them like they were a couple of idiots.
'Really?' I thought, popping the candy out to sigh. Mark had punched this guy a kilometer—a kilometer—through buildings and cars, and Killcannon was still awake, just scratched up and dirty.
The collateral damage was insane, and all for what? A thug who wouldn't quit? 'He got power and a lot of it with his viltrumite DNA, but no brain yet,' I mused, shaking my head.
I teleported down to the sidewalk near them, hands in my pockets, and called out, "Really, man? You punched him from a kilometer away to here? Maybe use your brain a little next time and just wreck his hand cannon instead of half the city." Mark turned, startled, his goggles slipping as he registered me.
Before he could argue, I smirked and raised two fingers. "Watch this—Reversed Cursed Technique: Red."
A sharp red glow flared from my fingertips, and I aimed it straight at Killcannon's arm cannon. Red's all about repulsion—pure, raw force that pushes whatever I want it to.
The energy hit the cannon like a sledgehammer, zeroing in on the metal and circuits. With a loud crack, the weapon shattered—bolts popping loose, the barrel splitting apart, wires sparking as the whole thing crumpled into a useless heap.
The force was tight, controlled, blasting the cannon off Killcannon's laser cannon arm without touching the rest of his body or the street.
Bits of twisted metal clattered to the ground, and Killcannon yelped, clutching his now-empty forearm, staring at it in shock.
I lowered my hand, smirking at Mark. "See? Problem solved—no extra holes in the city. You're welcome." Mark hovered there, mouth half-open, while Killcannon groaned, finally slumping back, too beat to keep fighting and his laser cannon arm blasted away.
Yeah, it's one of those things that really sticks out once you start noticing it—heroes letting villains do their thing instead of shutting them down immediately. Dr. Seismic is a perfect example. The guy literally relies on smashing his gauntlets together to cause earthquakes, and what do Mark and Eve do? They let him.
Like, come on. Eve could've easily wrapped his hands in solid energy restraints, keeping him from clapping them together in the first place. Problem solved—no earthquakes, no destruction, no unnecessary fight. Mark? He could've just zipped in at super speed and crushed the gauntlets like they were made of tin foil. Done in a second.
But no, they always have to let the villain show off first—let him get a few good hits in, cause some property damage, and make things "dramatic." It's like an unspoken rule: "We can't stop him too fast, or it won't be a real fight."
I get it, though, sometimes they cant as some villains are just too much for them alone to handle or sometimes not even in a team and for now, they're still learning. Mark's a rookie, and Eve, while experienced, isn't the type to go for immediate aggression. But from a logical standpoint? So many fights could be over before they even start.
It just makes you wonder—how many of these so-called "villains" are only dangerous because heroes don't shut them down efficiently?