Greg Veder the Misunderstood (Worm/Five Nights at Freddy's)

[Paxkun12]

When Greg Veder woke up, he felt numb, his muscles ached, and his chest burned, especially in the stomach area. He got up, removing the debris on top of him, wincing from the effort.



He tried to remember what had happened to him and why he was waking up in so much pain all over his body, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't recall the last thing that happened to him. He got up shakily, feeling a strange sensation in his stomach as if he were about to vomit, yet not quite, just discomfort.



What happened? Why do I feel so strange? Did a cape attack me?



Greg opened his eyes once he realized he couldn't remember what had happened to him but knew how it all began to end up in so much pain. Now that he thought about it, he opened his eyes while looking around and realized he didn't know where he was at the moment, only that he was in a part of Brockton Bay.



He stood up with unsteady feet, momentarily staggering, letting out a shaky sigh. He remembered leaving Winslow High to walk home, but due to some bullies following him—probably to intimidate him again—he had to take several detours to get home because he certainly didn't want them to know where he lived.



Some Empire kids had tried to recruit him, falsely assuring him that they would protect him in exchange for doing what they wanted. Despite all the teasing and threats, he stood firm, always rejecting.



Greg could endure being mocked, called immature, stupid, an idiot, lacking tact, among other things that certainly hurt, but he wasn't foolish. He knew that joining the Empire would only ruin his life even more (even if it was partly his fault, he felt resentful towards people because they couldn't understand him).



He tried everything to stand out, and to make friends. He talked about various topics: capes, video games, movies, music, and PHO news, and even tried discussing school subjects to make friends. But nothing he did satisfied anyone. He tried to please people to make friends, but he always failed.



Sure, he had Sparky, but he was sure they were more acquaintances than friends. Greg suspected Sparky didn't distance himself from him because Sparky was indifferent to life, except for music. To be able to have a conversation with Sparky without Greg feeling like he was talking to himself and becoming more uncomfortable due to Sparky's lack of response, he dedicated himself to learning and listening to various types of music. Only for nothing to change between them.



He was the one who always sought him out. He was the one who always started a conversation. Never Sparky (he was angry that no one appreciated his efforts, his dark thoughts wondered if he was a nuisance existence for anyone).



He couldn't even consider Taylor a friend because she had her problems. No matter how much he tried to help her with bullying, it only resulted in her looking at him with disgust, and him getting bullied for helping her (the worst part is that she didn't even help him once when he was being bullied by others, or at least pretend to help him to return the favor when he had helped her).



And GstringGirl was his only "friend" on PHO who didn't judge him for his behavior as XxVoid_CowboyxX. She was someone he felt comfortable with, but they weren't close, and they didn't know each other's lives. So, she might as well be just another stranger.



And if Greg were honest, he was tired of his life. It was boring and monotonous. Sometimes he fantasized about being a parahuman to be relevant and be someone in life. Greg Verder, a nerd with no friends, who would probably die alone, because they also made fun of him for not grasping social norms.



And speaking of death.



Greg walked shakily out of the destroyed place before stealthily walking, avoiding being seen by anyone. Sneaking perfectly until reaching a window without making any noise.



When he looked at himself in the mirror of an apartment window, he felt a lump in his throat.



He didn't recognize the look that stared back at him in the mirror, but despite that, his face was very similar to how it was before.



His face, once full of baby fat in the cheeks and somewhat chubby, had changed. His jaw was now defined like that of a man entering adulthood, as well as his chin. The fat and pimples on his cheeks had disappeared, leaving only smooth, soft skin with few flaws. His once perfectly bowl-cut hair was now long, reaching just below his neck, the dull blond color from years of neglect turned into a shiny blond.



But what stood out the most and terrified Greg were his eyes. Those bright blue eyes, like the sky he was so used to, had changed to a deep and vivid light purple, to the point where it could be confused with violet. Even though his face had changed so much, it wasn't the only thing affected.



His body was larger, taller. It's not that he was short for his age, it's just that now he seemed to have become much taller than Taylor. And she was tall, and that says something; he probably now measured almost two meters in height, but Greg wasn't sure until he stood completely upright and had something to compare it to, but at the moment, he was too unstable to try to figure out his new height.



The shirt he had worn to school was destroyed or torn along with his sweater. The most confusing thing is that there would be a hole large enough throughout the shirt, not to mention that it was starting to annoy him because the shirt was now smaller than his body. It was truly a miracle that he hadn't been there for his abrupt "growth."



There was dried blood on his body and shirt. He really didn't want to know whose blood it was; just thinking about it made him tremble in fear and feel nauseous.



Now Greg was really regretting taking a detour to get home and losing the bullies. He let out a shaky sigh before slowly taking off the torn and blood-filled sweater and then tearing the shirt because it wouldn't come off his head. Taking advantage of that same shirt to clean the dirt and blood that stained his body.



Before looking at himself in the mirror with disbelief. What was once the body of a skinny and somewhat chubby teenager with some fat in his stomach now had muscles all over his body. His arms, forearms, he even had pectorals and a six-pack now. This impressed him and excited him before realizing the implications of what had happened to him.



He was a parahuman. One who was physically affected, and it was probably impossible to hide the drastic physical change that had happened to Greg. Everyone would notice that he probably had a Trigger Event. Which was very bad. Not that Greg complained about his new body shape, but he certainly would have preferred something discreet, something that would have been blatantly obvious.



But how did he get powers? He remembered taking a detour before accidentally bumping into one of Purity's crusades while attacking ABB. Again, he didn't remember what happened, but Greg came to think that he got too close trying to record it and get some relevance on PHO but bit off more than he could chew. He remembered the pain in his stomach (it was unbearable agony), he remembered the lack of oxygen, he remembered feeling dizzy and cold.



Something had pierced his body, and looking at the destruction of the nearby buildings, he came to assume that debris or several had hit and impaled him. He touched his stomach, grimacing in pain at that fact, and now that he thought about it, he didn't have a scar or any trace of injury he could have inflicted on himself.



He looked at himself again in the window; his purple eyes shone brightly, illuminating the window in which he was seeing himself. He looked at his stomach and checked his whole body, but found nothing out of the ordinary. Even pressed his stomach to see if he found anything wrong with it, but the only different thing was that his stomach now had muscles and was hard, not soft and chubby.



He was pale. Very pale, as if blood didn't circulate inside his body. And he was also cold. Very cold, almost like a corpse.



He was white-skinned, but not to the point of almost looking like a ghost, not to mention that he never had icy skin; he always wore sweaters or coats to protect himself from the cold, and they had heating at home, so it wasn't a problem. Not to mention the disturbing fact that despite having icy skin, he didn't feel cold, and that was weird considering he was shirtless.



Damn. Why couldn't he remember what happened to him in his Trigger Event? And the assumptions his mind was coming to scared him. Besides, how long has he been unconscious? Greg clenched his fist to try to calm down as he tried to remember, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember what had happened.



Greg sighed, touching the bridge of his nose; clearly, what he was doing was a waste of time. Putting that problem aside, he was now in an even bigger one. "What should I do? If I go back home as I am, my mother will ask me a bunch of questions, not to mention that I don't know how long I've been unconscious in this nasty place." He frowned.



"A week."



Greg jumped, hitting the window with his head, grimacing before turning around in panic to look at the person who had answered him. Before freezing at what he was seeing and letting out a confused "Huh."



"A week. That's how long you've been dead in this shitty place. Kiddo."



What was talking to Greg was not human or at least not anymore, he could feel it. The man's skin was pale, sickly, and of an unnatural gray color. The man's clothes were strange, very similar to those of a security guard, only the color purple decadent, not to mention the blood that stained almost all of his clothes. And the hole in his clothes was so similar to the one Greg had in his, but at the same time so different.



Greg swore that for a brief moment, he could see a massive hole in the man's chest, showing that he was without organs, and his ribs poking out before he shook his head and that horrible vision disappeared. But what stood out the most, apart from the fact that the man himself was floating as if he were a ghost, were his eyes. They were a purple color exactly like his, only the man, instead of having white sclera, had deep black, tears or a blackish liquid (very similar to tar) that simulated tears falling down his cheeks but not off his face.



"Who are you? I swear I don't have lunch money. School bullies stole it from me, and they've probably already spent that money on some drugs, or wait... are you going to eat me? Please don't eat me; I'm not very tasty." Greg let out a nervous laugh before realizing something.



"What?" The man asked, puzzled by Greg's reaction.



"Wait, now I'm a parahuman. Haha." Greg smiled triumphantly. "I'm sorry, but today I don't plan on dying." Greg's smile disappeared as he realized what the man had said earlier and didn't catch it due to nervousness. "Wait... what do you mean I've died?"



The man gave him a strange and unbelieving look before shaking his head. "That's what I said, kiddo. You died... well, you should be dead, but you're not. Like me, but you're better off than me." The man gave him an envious and jealous look before shaking his head with guilt and letting out a sigh of resignation. "And I am what you would call your Parahuman power. I guess..." Then the man put on an expressionless look. "Seriously, who was the idiot who came up with that name to classify people with powers?"



"Hey," Greg was offended. "Parahuman powers are incredible. I always dreamed of having one, and now that I finally have one, I can be a superhero." He paused before staring at the man intently. "Now that I think about it, Parahumans instinctively know what their powers do and how to use them. So why don't I know anything about them?"



The man shrugged. "Beats me. Maybe it's because you died, and your body rotted completely before coming out as a new kid. I mean, your body was that of a geek who never exercised, and most likely you just stayed locked up doing nothing, but now you look the same physically and the same height as when I was alive. So it makes me suspicious that it has to do with my Remnant in your body."



Greg furrowed his brow, confused about what the man was telling him. He didn't know what he was referring to with Remnant, but there was something much more important than that. "That doesn't make sense; if I had died, I wouldn't have been able to trigger an event. And even if I had triggered before dying, my powers should have stopped working the moment I died. Unless my power makes me immortal." Then Greg smiled, realizing. "So I'm not only immortal, but my power has put me at the pinnacle of humanity. That's cool."



"Weren't you listening? Your corpse was exposed for a week, entering a state of decay. I'm pretty sure all your organs rotted, including your brain, not to mention all the disgusting insects inside your body. That was before my Remnant entered your body and completely restored you to an astonishing level that I didn't think was possible."



Greg strangely fell silent for a few moments. If that was true, his Trigger Event is quite strange. Unless it's not a Trigger Event and it's something else. Honestly, he should have been scared, but he was strangely calm as if there were some kind of familiarity in this, but when he wanted to know why, that feeling went away. Almost like déjà vu.



Another thing he noticed was that his mind was more organized. There were almost no random thoughts, well, he still had a few, but now it feels like he had installed a filter that was broken before. As if he could think carefully and calmly and in an orderly manner. Whatever this Remnant was, not only did it improve his body to an incredible level, but it also improved his mind to a disturbing level, but Greg wasn't upset. Instead, he was strangely satisfied.



He was no longer a nobody. Now he could be someone in life. Someone more than the Greg Verder everyone hated. He no longer wished to attract people's attention to make them his friends. Of course, he would still try to make friends, but he wouldn't be so insistent; now that he could think more clearly, he could see the signs telling him to stay away.



That made him wonder if he had a form of autism or if he was just an idiot who fell off the bed when he was little. Anyway, continuing with the problem of his strange transformation, other problems were coming.



His mother must be very worried if he disappeared for a week. They probably think he was kidnapped or murdered. A normal thought considering the city they lived in. And the other problem was his appearance.



Greg looked into the man's creepy eyes seriously, something that would have surprised even himself. "Who are you? Are you really my Parahuman power? Also, what is this Remnant you keep talking about, not to mention the fact that you talk about it as if it were something common for you, but I have no idea what you're referring to."



The man looked at him amusedly, raising an eyebrow. "And here I thought you were an idiot—"



"Hey."



"—But it seems like you have a good head on your shoulders to some extent. Besides, even if they separate your head, you can always stick it back." The man somersaulted in the air before gesturing to himself. "If you thought you were going to have a boring and normal life, erase that thought. Because now you will experience a completely different life than you have imagined. And on this journey, I will be your companion and guide." The man made a gesture of guns with his hands. "My name is Michael Afton, but I prefer you to call me Mike. And I welcome you to the world of the supernatural, Greg Veder." The man smiled in a terrifying but at the same time gentle and warmly affectionate way.



Greg was bewildered but strangely excited by the strange introduction. "Supernatural world?" He could only hope that what the man named Michael Afton was going to explain wouldn't be a headache.



He was wrong.

 

[Creepymaster566]

I'm loving this so far looking forward to more.

 

[Red_Faux]

The second chapter is called chapter three, the first chapter doesn't have a thread mark, this is a mess.

Fine story though

 

[Paxkun12]

"All right, Kiddo. Pay very close attention. The Remnant is much more complicated than you think, so it will take some time to explain." Michael floated around Greg while scanning the city's surroundings. "Maybe we should find a better place. We might attract unwanted attention here, not to mention the fact that you're going to look like someone talking to an imaginary friend. That won't give you a good reputation. So, it would be great if you have a place where we can have privacy."



"Eh? What do you mean?" Greg had an idea, but he wasn't really sure.



"You're the only one who can see me since I'm somehow linked to you. So to others, you'll look like someone talking to an imaginary friend. That won't give you a good reputation. So, it would be great if you have a place where we can have privacy."



Greg furrowed his brow. "Well, that will be a problem. A really annoying one. My transformation in my body was very obvious, so people would suspect that I had a Trigger Event. And even if we deny it, they'll probably lock us up in Master/Stranger protocol with the excuse that it's for our safety. Not to mention there's the risk that my mother will be scared by what happened to me."



"That's messed up, but hey, this could be worse." Michael gave a nervously amused smile. "At least you're not a freaking stinking corpse, probably having to avoid the damn happily ignorant society while trying to dodge the damn police or the government trying to capture you for experimentation. So, in a way, it's a win in my books." Michael looked him up and down while squinting his eyes. "Also, if the issue is your appearance, I think I might have a solution to that."



Greg tilted his head as he pondered the possibilities. "Wait... don't tell me you can revert my body, my old body, and my body in perfect condition at will... oh even better, we affect people's brains and make them believe I have the old body, but in reality, I always have my perfect body. Like a Stranger effect."



Michael looked at him in surprise before shaking his head in amused exasperation. "If I'm being honest, I didn't think you'd come close to getting it right, so color me impressed Kiddo." Michael smiled at him as he put his arms behind his head and slowly floated backward. "The solution to your problems is illusionary discs. A very advanced technology that can cause illusions or hallucinations by producing some high-pitched sound waves."



Greg looks at him in amazement before smiling excitedly. "That's amazing. If I have the right materials then I can build one of the disks so that it produces a rhythmic pattern of five sound waves with different frequencies that coordinate and then de-coordinate repeatedly creating a predictable frequency" Greg exclaimed as the ideas came to his brain as if he had always known all this from the beginning. "If I create the right rhythm and the right frequencies then it can alter people's perception and even to any security camera or any recording electronics." Then he frowned "Although I'm not sure if it would affect the technology modified by another Tinker."



Michael looked at him with childlike amazement and scientific interest. "That's really how a parahuman power based on Tinker should work; this is truly incredible. I'm a bit envious; that power would have been very useful instead of wasting decades studying robotics and technology." Michael shook his head, still incredulous about what happened, but he had seen many strange things in his life, so accepting another one wouldn't be a problem for him. "Right now, this is very useful. It means you don't have to waste time studying what I have studied, and I don't think we have to worry right now about Tinker technology. The only problem with this plan is that we have nothing to build an illusionary disc."



Michael pointed with a furrowed brow.



Greg nervously bit his lips as he thought carefully about the plan that was slowly coming to him. Despite the potential dangers and how foolish it was to expose himself so openly to that place, it was the only thing he saw as the better option.



"I think I have some money so we can buy basic materials for construction at a store. I just hope it's not too expensive." Greg sighed as he began to check his pants for his wallet. "The rest of the materials, we can get at the Docks or Boat Graveyard. The only problem is that the place is monitored by all the city's gangs and even the PRT. From what I understand, it's a place where Tinkers frequent to find materials."



"I see, that complicates things. I know this place is a dump. The amount of Remnant I feel scattered in the city isn't normal. Honestly, it's quite disturbing that I can feel the excess of Remnant saturating the city, and the authorities haven't done anything." Michael looked at the city with narrowed eyes.



Greg shook his head with annoyance. "The police can't do anything because they don't get involved with parahumans and only act against people without powers. Not to mention, the police are useless against parahumans even if they get involved. And the PRT is like a special police to stop parahumans, but they're incompetent, and all they achieve is maintaining the status quo and being publicity toys."



"Uh... are they really that incompetent at what they do?" Michael asked incredulously.



Greg furrowed his brow. "Yes. Many people think it's because villains outnumber them four to one, but if they were really competent, then the villains they capture wouldn't escape their surveillance."



"Do all these villain capes captured by this PRT escape from their prison cell?" Michael didn't like that piece of information. How hard is it to keep a prisoner in their cells?



"Well, no one has escaped surveillance within the cells of the PRT building, but when they transfer villains to a better prison or the Birdcage, they are always released and set free. Although that only happens in Brockton Bay, in other cities, it's strange for them to escape. At least, as far as I know."



The look Michael gave scared Greg a bit. His pupils had contracted to a small, intimidating point, and the dead look accompanying it sent shivers down his spine. Michael sighed, trying to relax when he saw he was unsettling Kiddo. Instead, he focused on a more important fact. "Setting aside the level of incompetence shown by the authorities, there's something else that worries me. You mentioned gangs in the plural, not singular. Or did I just hear wrong?"



Greg furrowed his brow. "Shouldn't you know all this?"



Michael rolled his eyes before giving him an expressionless look. "I've been dead for a long time, Kiddo, and even though I've gained some knowledge due to our connection, I don't exactly know what's going on with the world during my absence. The last time I checked, parahumans didn't exist. What year is it, anyway?" Michael looked at Greg with curiosity.



Greg looked surprised before nodding; what Michael said made sense. "So, you must be from a time before parahumans. We're in the year 2011. When I passed out, it was specifically February 5th. If a full week has passed, it should be February 12th or 13th."



"2011." Michael looked at him with surprise; his "eyes" dilated, making his pupils larger before returning to normal. "That doesn't..." He shook his head in disbelief. "No matter, it's not important right now. Anyway, back to the gangs."



Greg gave Michael a strange, thoughtful look before shrugging. "There are the Azn Bad Boys or ABB, mostly an Asian gang, and even though they have only two capes in their gang, they're equally dangerous as the Empire because of the strength of Lung and Oni Lee. The Empire is a Nazi gang."



That took Michael by surprise. "Are you saying those damn Nazis still exist?" Disbelief was evident in his voice. "How haven't the authorities done anything? Please tell me they don't have a powered-up Hitler."



Greg blinked in confusion, tilting his head. "Hitler?"



The palpable relief in Michael confused Greg, but Michael didn't explain why. Instead, he said, "Don't worry about that, Kiddo. Keep going. You were talking about the damn Nazis."



"So, the Empire doesn't have capes as strong as Lung, maybe the idiot Purity, but honestly, I'm not sure who would win in a showdown. Although most likely, one of the two will back down regardless of the damage they cause in the city or the deaths they may cause." Greg commented with a furrowed brow before giving an audible sigh. "The Empire also doesn't have a cape as versatile as Oni Lee, but what the Empire lacks, it makes up for in numbers. They have many capes, some more dangerous than others."



Michael looked thoughtful as he waited for Greg to continue.



"There are also the Merchants, low-life gang members, and the majority of them are drugged because they pose a minor threat to capes, but the average citizen can still die or be mugged by these idiots. Even their leader Skidmark is taken as a literal joke. And the PRT doesn't even consider them a threat compared to the other gangs."



Greg then snorted with a hint of mockery before continuing. "I think there's also a minor villain named Coil, but not much is known about him. The Undersiders are a small group of criminals who usually engage in robbery, so it's unlikely that they'll bother us. The Faultline Crew is a group of mercenaries formed by Case 53. Unless we attack them, they won't be a problem. Then there are the clowns Uber and Leet, but it's unlikely that we'll encounter them. There are other capes, but they're either Rogues like Parian or independents like Sere."



"That's a lot of capes for one city, has the PRT ever thought that maybe their level of incompetence is due to a leak or a spy? I mean compared to other PRT branches and their quality, I want to believe that there is a possibility that there is sabotage in this city's branch, otherwise, this would be just unfortunate, sad, and disappointing."



Greg blinked before nodding. "It's possible, but I generally believe that all this is a government conspiracy to make more money and then take over the world or at least the city while controlling the gangs in the shadows."



Michael gave him an expressionless look before snorting and rolling his eyes. "You're watching too many novels, Kiddo. Stop mixing fantasy with reality."



"Hey. This can be a very real possibility that we can't dismiss." Greg, seeing that Michael just gave him a mocking and amused smile, pouted before sighing. "Fine, but when my theory is true, then I'll tell you. I told you so."



Michael just sighed as he looked at him with a nostalgic and amused smile mixed with sadness. "Sure, Kiddo, but when it's not true, then I'll tell you. I told you so." Then he smiled playfully before looking at Greg seriously. "Anyway, don't worry about these low-life criminals. No matter how strong they are, I'm sure we can easily defeat them." Michael Afton made a dismissive gesture, not caring about the capes, even if they had powers. They wouldn't be rivals for them since both are spirits and unless one of them controls fire, then it simply won't matter who they face; they'll always win as long as they can touch the cape.



"Am I really that strong?" Greg exclaimed excitedly. "Wait... you don't even know the powers of the capes in Brockton Bay. How do I know you're not overestimating my... our cape powers?"



"An excellent question. We are immortal, we can recover from any damage over time. My regeneration was slower, but yours seems to be quite fast. We can heal from any injury, even the most severe or lethal ones. The only way to die is by fire, and that's only if the flames have a high temperature." Michael gave a smug smile.



"But having regenerative ability doesn't equate to victory. We also have to consider other factors. Can we fall unconscious? What if they immobilize us with a parahuman power? Can we be affected by Masters or any power that affects the brain? Do we have anything other than super regeneration?"



Michael tilted his head before sighing. "We can't fall unconscious from a blunt force hit, not even if they tear our heads off our shoulders. We only fall unconscious if we use too much Remnant from our body, not to mention, that we have to replenish the Remnant reserves we spend. I don't think sleeping or eating is necessary, although considering your body, I think you can do both, but I'm not so sure."



Michael then frowned. "Yes they can immobilize us, but let's try not to let that happen, as it would be quite embarrassing. Also, I don't think we can be affected by a master, but I have my doubts, but most likely the Remnant will react negatively and respond violently to the mental attack."



Greg nodded, paying attention, trying not to be distracted by the ideas flooding his mind. Being a cape noctis with no need to eat saved him hours in his life as a Tinker—a highly appreciated advantage considering his powers.



"We don't have anything grandiose like super flight or laser beams, but we can disable any kind of technology. Very similar to a powerful electromagnetic pulse (EMP), this is generally due to our intense, usually negative, emotions manifesting from the paranormal plane to the mortal plane. I don't know what emotion triggers it for you, Kiddo, but once you figure it out, you'll need to control that emotion," Michael explained seriously. "We can also disrupt electricity to some extent. For example, we can cause a small blackout, although not for long. And we can also manipulate communication forms, for instance, interrupting a news broadcast to send a message, although that's very complicated, and I generally wouldn't recommend it because it's too creepy," Michael shuddered. "Believe me, no one wants to receive a message tampered with by the Remnant."



"That's..." Greg didn't know what to say; he was uncomfortable for a moment before speaking. "I've tried to ignore it because, despite the studies people have done on parahumans, no one really knows how they manifest beyond an extra organ in the parahuman's brain. But something about you bothers me." Greg looked at him nervously. "You've been talking as if my powers were very different from those of a parahuman. I've tried to ignore it, but the way you narrate the abilities is as if you've used them before or at least experienced this same power. What is this Remnant really? Have I really experienced a Trigger Event, or are my powers something different from parahuman abilities?"



Michael looked at Greg, letting out an audible sigh. "It's not like they wanted to hide it, but I would have preferred to explain it to you in a safe place for you to assimilate it thoughtfully and calmly. Since we could take hours while I explain it to you, and honestly, it's a miracle that no one has found you while you were explaining gangs to me." Michael then smiled slightly amused. "Although it would have been fun to see the looks on the faces of the people who caught you talking to yourself."



Greg rolled his eyes before pointing at him. "Fine. We'll find a place first, but once we find a place where we can talk privately, you'll explain what Remnant is."



Michael raised his hands in surrender. "Fine. Relax, I promise to explain everything thoroughly, but in a summary. Remnant is a part of the soul of a murdered person. Think of the soul as liquid paint compressed into a protective plastic bag; when you're murdered, it breaks, and the soul, or paint, stains the place. So, the soul is the paint, and you are the protective bag. When you're murdered, you stain the world with your paint, so to speak."



Greg looked puzzled before speaking. "So, you're saying I have your Remnant inside my body. I mean, your soul. Does that mean I have two souls inside my body?"



Instead of nodding, Michael shook his head. "Not entirely. You have my Remnant, yes, but it's in the physical plane. This means that my Remnant is part of the protective bag covering your soul. If you want to make an analogy, let's use a phone; the phone has the motherboard, in this case, your soul, and the phone's casing is your body. Then my Remnant would be the phone protector that reduces damage to the casing."



Greg shook his head in confusion; this seemed much more complicated than parahuman powers. Fortunately, the analogy made him understand much more easily what was happening with his body. "So are you saying that Remnant will reduce any damage caused to my body?"



Michael shook his head before smiling ironically. "Oh, no. You will always receive the same damage as any other human being; what the Remnant will do is restore any damage done to your body, since the Remnant does not surround your body like a protective shield, but permeates your entire circulatory system, pumping it through every part of your body. Obtaining a function almost similar to a blood".



Greg's sweat drops fell from him. "So, doesn't that make the previous analogy useless?"



Michael made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Eh, details. Repairing the body or protecting it, no matter how you look at it, will protect you, and in that way, you won't die. Now, you're immortal." Then Michael gave him a mocking and amused smile. "By the way, that means you'll have this age forever, for the rest of eternity, or at least until someone kills you again this time permanently."



Greg certainly didn't expect that. Most people would be scared of being stuck in adolescence, but for him, it was different. Greg looked at himself in the mirror. Whatever Michael's soul did to his body, it made him look much older than he was, so now Greg looked like a teenager entering adulthood. Which was pretty cool, and he had to admit he now looked quite sexy.



He was going to attract a lot of girls with this body. Although now that he thought about it he looked into his purple eyes before looking at Michael's "eyes" out of the corner of his eye. A doubt began to plague the teenager's mind that gained maturity.



If Remnant restores the host's body, it means it has memory capacity just as the immune system does to fight viruses and bacteria. But I got Mike's Remnant after my death, so Mike's Remnant inside my body couldn't remember what my appearance was before my death. So, if it didn't remember my appearance, the form of my new appearance had to come from somewhere.



Greg looked at Michael. His stomach tightened, really hoping the conclusion he came to wasn't true, but Michael's indifferent demeanor about what was happening to him and the knowledge he had about Remnant told Greg that he was right.



His appearance was not due to the Remnant being adapted to his body to emulate the physical peak of the human body. But because it was exactly the same physical form that Michael Afton had before his death.

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Author Note: This chapter tries to get the reader to grasp Greg's natural intelligence while maintaining some habits before Greg dies. The old Greg at least in this story, could never think in detail because he was always distracted by new ideas before moving on to another. Now that the Remnant has granted him a level of maturity and his mind is much calmer, he can now think carefully before he speaks before he would talk and then think about the shit his mouth had spit out.



He also briefly showed Greg and Michael's personalities and how the dynamic between them will be more or less. Along with a little explanation about soul juice and what that soul juice can do.

 

[Paxkun12]

Michael Afton didn't know what to think when he arrived at this shitty place called Brockton Bay. He thought everything would end in that battle against the animatronic called The Mimic. Honestly, defeating that artificial intelligence was too complicated for his liking.



The Mimic was quite terrifying, to the point that it gave Michael chills, and that says a lot. Since Michael was someone accustomed to the supernatural, to see murdered robots, cursed dolls, corrupt objects, haunted places, and much more ghostly shit, all because of something called Remnant.



He never believed in ghosts or the supernatural. I mean, who believes in such stupid things? Or at least, they were stupid and childish things for Michael, but that was until he was killed by his sister, Elizabeth Afton. She had died years before, but her soul had remained in the Circus Baby animatronic.



The day of his death was the day Michael began to learn about the supernatural. Being a revived corpse left him no choice but to believe; honestly, it was a miracle that the police hadn't captured him to experiment on him.



His death was just another day on the shit list of his damn life. Ranking second, with the first being the Bite of '83. A regrettable event that Michael would continue to regret until his damn existence ceased to persist in the mortal realm. Anyway, the last thing he remembered before seeing a stupid giant whale or some kind of space worm was being surrounded by flames (again) while fighting in a death battle (again) against the artificial intelligence capable of perfectly imitating the compartment and personality of any human being, and it even had illusory discs, so it could feign appearances, not to mention that it could imitate any human voice, whether male or female.



A very frightening and dangerous artificial intelligence that would make Batman run for his money. The Mimic was already dangerous in its own right, but it became much more dangerous when it got infected with AGONY so the same AGONY helped The Mimic infect the local networks of the Mega Pizzaplex shopping center. And thanks to the help of virtual reality games, it was able to infect Vanessa's (a security guard) mind and take control of her body whenever the damn AI wanted.



The Mimic was a pain in the ass. Not only was it clever, but it knew how to plan because it copied the behavior of some talented humans. Honestly, it was terrifying when the damn robot perfectly imitated the behavior and personality of William Afton.



A fact that still gave Michael chills throughout his ghostly body. The only consolation Michael had was that he had gotten rid of the damn artificial intelligence, putting an end to the murders that this robot caused to collect more Remnant. The only cost was the sacrifice of himself, something that he honestly didn't care to do; it's not like Michael had reasons to keep living and existing, except to make sure Gregory, Cassie, or Vanessa were okay.



Fortunately, with The Mimic dead, he was sure that Gregory, Cassie, and Vanessa would be fine without him.



This is for the best. They don't need you, Michael. They can handle themselves; they had done it before and would do it again, only this time, they have each other, and no longer each one on their own... Besides, you have more important things to figure out.



Michael thought as he looked at his new unexpected companion (student?). Greg Veder. He didn't know what to think about the teenager. Apart from talking a lot and sometimes seeming like his mouth had no filter, for everything else, he seemed like someone with a good head on his shoulders, not to mention that he could appreciate talking to someone intelligent and who understood quite quickly.



It's worth noting that the Kiddo has a broad view, which you have to have when working with Remnant. One can only be surprised a certain number of times until the strangest shit becomes normal. For example, Michael was sure it was 2033, but now it was 2011, specifically February. Which should be impossible unless he had time-traveled.



Michael knew it wasn't time travel because he was very sure that Parahumans didn't exist. No human had powers unless they had injected themselves with Remnant at the same time they died, as was his case. When the Scooper ripped his organs out while injecting him with the Remnant of the missing children.



And even then, powers in ghosts were extremely rare. As far as Michael knows, there were only two ghosts who had powers, aside from the ghostly shit that all ghosts could do. As was the case with Golden Freddy and his Teleportation or Puppet with his power to give Gifts.



There's also his power, which kept him safe from many dangers in his life as a walking corpse. His Injector power. Michael could pump memories into people's minds and make them feel those memories perfectly. For example, he could inject the memory of someone being brutally dismembered onto a person. And this person will feel exactly what the dismembered person felt. Both physical pain and emotional feelings, and everything will seem real to them.



And the scariest part of all that Michael has to do to activate his power is think of the memory he wants to transmit and then touch the person. No matter how much protection the skin covers, people won't be able to save themselves once his power is activated. He only needed a touch, however minimal it was.



And the power is powerful enough to leave a person in a coma or, worse, give them a cerebral death. So you have to be careful about how much damn energy you have to use. Because if you use too much Remnant, then most likely the person will die unless that person has great mental fortitude.



This world is damn strange.



Just thinking about all the information Michael obtained about Parahumans gave him a headache. Metaphorically, of course, since he was dead and a ghost, therefore, he didn't feel any kind of pain. And speaking of pain, Michael looked again at Greg, who was walking as discreetly as he could, but even then, he caught the attention of some people, giving Greg strange looks, especially at his glowing eyes.



There's too much Remnant just in this damn city. What the hell are the damn authorities doing? How many people have died and disappeared due to the incompetence of the authorities?

Despite the information he got about the knowledge of this strange alternative land (since it was the only logical conclusion he had come to) through this stupid whale that somehow linked him to Kiddo, the method escaped Michael, as it must be impossible, especially because he's a ghost.



Michael didn't know everything, so finding out from Greg that the local authorities were useless incompetents was a bitter pill to swallow, but one that didn't surprise him. He was used to authorities being useless. It happened with William Afton and the missing children and many other cases he could remember.



Like the murder of Charlie, and the disappearance (death) of his sister Elizabeth. Or even his death. At first, Michael thought Greg was exaggerating because Marvel or DC comics have taught them anything. It's that authorities are rarely incompetent. Honestly, this place reminded him of how they describe Gotham in the comics. He supposed the stench of death must also be impregnated.



Whatever. Don't think too much about this shit; it's just another strange thing that probably only thought was fantasy before realizing it was real.



Michael was going to keep moving forward, without making meticulous plans. He wasn't that type of person; he was more about learning on the go. Whatever brought him here, he wanted of him.

The most important thing right now was to make sure to find a safe place to be able to explain to Greg about the Remnant and the dangers that come with using this kind of "power" or magic, as some would call it, although he didn't particularly care how people defined Remnant. And he honestly liked the name Soul Juice.



Once they found a place to talk, they could make plans to create an illusory disk, and then once the device was finished, Greg would use it to return to his normal appearance and find Kiddo's mother.



"Hmm." Greg stopped as he looked at a group of people entering one of the alleys. From what Michael could tell, it was a group of Asian people, so they must have been one of the gangs Greg had mentioned earlier, and most likely, they were ABB.



Greg then turned to look at Michael, and Michael gave him an excited smile, making Michael raise an eyebrow, puzzled by what was going on. He just hoped it wasn't what Michael was thinking right now because if it was, then it was better to stop him before he did something stupid.



"I have an idea," Greg said as he glanced out of the corner of his eye where the suspicious people had disappeared.



Michael didn't let himself be carried away. Instead, he gave the kid an expressionless look. "I know what you're thinking, kid. And believe me, it's a bad idea. You don't even know how to use my powers besides what I've explained to you, and you already want to jump into action. Honestly, Kiddo, you're being very reckless."



Greg then raised an eyebrow. "I know, but this could be a good opportunity to get some money, not to mention we can get a change of clothes. Think about it. You could go and leave them alone, but who knows what these people might be doing. Most likely, it's something big since it was a good-sized group of people. And if we leave, when can we do something? We wouldn't be any better than the PRT." Then Greg gave him a cunning smile. "Besides, we're immortal, right? So we don't have to worry about the damage they can do to us."





Michael sighed and shook his head. "Even if we're immortal, we can still be captured, remember? So you'd have to be pretty agile not to get cornered against a wall or have your legs dismembered. Not to mention, what's your plan for dealing with a gang?"



Greg thumped his chest proudly before flexing some of his muscles, showing his biceps. "Hit them until they surrender or fall unconscious, whichever comes first."



Michael looked at him incredulously before putting a hand on the bridge of his nose and muttered, "And here I thought you had a good head on your shoulders, but it seems like your brain took a vacation."



Greg looked at him confused. "What? I didn't hear you. Can you repeat what you said?"



Michael shook his head, trying to ignore the irritation in his chest. "You're not going to change your mind even if I try to convince you otherwise, right?"



Greg hesitated, looking at him nervously before taking a deep breath. "I know you have doubts, but I think this is the best way to learn. Besides, they're just a group of gang members; what's the worst that could happen? Most likely, it'll be a one-sided beating on my part."



Michael rolled his eyes. "If things go to hell, then I'll be very pleased to rub it in your face, Kiddo. Anyway, if you're going to play this superhero shit, I'd better tell you that to win against gang members, you just have to touch them."



Greg looked at him surprised. "Huh? Just touch them? Is there something special about my touch?" He looked at him with a curious and intrigued expression, but above all, excited.



"We can leave people unconscious with just a touch," Michael decided not to add that he would have to use his Injector power for that, showing them some memories that would make those criminals reconsider what they were doing with their lives.



Greg grinned ecstatically, like a child receiving the Christmas gift he's been asking for since the beginning of the year. "Oh, man, it's cool and powerful. No wonder you weren't worried about other capes." Then Greg blinked. "Does the contact have to be with the skin? Because honestly, I don't want to touch someone only to be surprised that it doesn't work."



Michael shook his head. "It's not necessary to touch the skin, just that your hand makes contact with another living being. Since this power is more spiritual than biological." Michael doesn't know exactly how Injector works, which wasn't surprising because the soul shit most of the time has no logical or scientific explanation and is more akin to true magic.



The only thing Michael knew about the Injector is that it connected his soul with the soul of the affected person to force memories on them and make the person feel them as if they were real. He had never stayed to see the consequences of his power, but honestly, he never cared enough, since the people he used his power on were mostly criminals.



Greg nodded before starting to walk towards the gang members, before stopping abruptly and looking at himself. Touching his face for a few seconds he frowned as if he were thinking carefully before Greg shrugged it off.



And then Greg turned his gaze back to Michael. "Almost forgot something important. Very relevant to capes."



Michael raised an eyebrow while making a face. "The mask?"



Greg nodded with a grimace. "Yes, but since we don't have one, I'll just use a scarf. Besides, even if someone sees us, we'll have the illusory disks to maintain our civilian identity, so I'm not worried about someone capturing my face. Honestly, even I had trouble recognizing myself." Then he shook his head. "But that's not the problem."



Michael sighed, knowing that something stupid was going to come out of Greg's mouth, but still gestured for him to continue.



Then Greg pouted. "Our cape name."



Michael slapped his face, slapping his forehead.

 

[Paxkun12]

Greg Veder smiled with excitement; he was about to embark on his first battle as a cape. Though a bit nervous, he wasn't afraid. Being immortal, he figured he was safe from any danger posed by the low-level members of ABB. They were just ordinary people, no humans with powers. So, it should be an easy job.



Defeat the gang members and take all the money they have. Also, get a shirt in your size. This is probably one of the smartest plans you've come up with. You're a genius, Greg.



Once Greg made sure his face was covered with his torn shirt and the sweater hid his hair, he started jogging towards where the ABB gang members had gone, with Michael floating behind him, wearing an analytical expression.



He could feel the energy coursing through his body, similar to the way adrenaline pumped, but much better, as if he had a boost of enhancement. Something akin to a strength spell. His body adopted a peculiar running style, much faster than any human could manage.



Instinctively, his body leaned forward, arms moving in synchronization, resembling an athlete's motion but distinctly different. His arms weren't straight, moving side to side as if he were skating on ice.



This feels very familiar as if he were accustomed to running this way. It was almost terrifying how intuitive it was for him.



As Greg approached the gang members, his body instinctively hid skillfully behind a wall. Peeking out, he observed what the ABB gang members were doing. He could see in detail how each one carried some kind of box into the warehouse.



Damn. This is one of ABB's warehouses.



What the warehouse contained, Greg didn't know, but he strongly suspected it was a weapons stash, though he wouldn't rule out drugs. There were at least a dozen heavily armed individuals, not to mention someone who seemed to be leading and giving orders in Japanese.



That guy might be one of the bosses running ABB. How come no one alerted the police? These guys weren't subtle about what they were doing.



Then again, Greg was used to the police being incompetent. They never did anything about Winslow High to stop drug trafficking or gang recruitment. Just thinking about it made his chest burn with anger. Before shaking his head and taking a deep breath to calm down. This wasn't the time to get angry about trivialities.



"Greg," Michael called, making him turn to look at him, raising an eyebrow, wondering what he needed. "You have my Remnant inside you, so you can do what I can do. I want you to feel and expand that energy around you, But not in an aggressive way, but gently and calmly."



Greg furrowed his brow, confused about what he meant, but did as Michael asked. He closed his eyes, trying to find the Remnant within him. Being familiar with this type of energy somehow, he quickly found it, feeling the same warmth he felt in his chest moments ago, only not aggressive.



Once he felt it, he expanded it gently, like creating his sound wave. As it spread, he could sense the living beings around him, much like an energy sensor. In this case, the energy concluded that they were the souls of other people.



Twenty people inside the warehouse, moving with coordination. Greg guessed they were moving and organizing the boxes, but he wasn't sure. He could also sense seventeen people outside the warehouse, but something caught his attention about one of those outside. Their soul felt a bit different from the others.



Something inside him stirred with excitement and morbid curiosity, surprising Greg. He was sure he was more concerned about this than excited. Maybe it's time to reconsider whether this was a good idea.



But if you don't do it, then who will? Will you let these low-life criminals get away with it? Just like those stupid bullies who intimidated you got away with it?



Greg blinked, shaking his head with a slight grimace. For a moment, he thought Michael was talking to him, so he opened his eyes, only to discover that Michael was looking towards the warehouse. He asked, confused.



"What was that?"



Michael turned his head to look at him, confused, raising an eyebrow. "What was what?"



"I... heard as if someone was talking to me just now," Greg whispered uncertainly.



Michael's gaze was confused for a few seconds before his pupils widened with surprise. Then his expression shifted from calm to somber and dark, with his pupils contracted to a small dot.



"It's the AGONY trying to corrupt you. Always ignore the voice. Okay, don't listen to it, and certainly don't let it influence you. If the voice persists, let me know. We'll find a way for you to adapt to it without bothering you." Michael said with great seriousness.



"You never told me about something called AGONY," Greg accused. "What is AGONY, and how dangerous is it?"



"It's very dangerous. A highly corrupt and malicious energy with a certain consciousness. It's not alive as such, but it can become intelligent enough if it grows too much. And to grow, it needs large amounts of AGONY." Michael explained. "AGONY is a consequence of Remnants, which are dark and negative feelings that manifest as corrupt energy. This energy seeks to feed on more AGONY to keep existing because it fades over time."



"That's... Greg didn't know what to say to that, but what worried him was that Michael said it was a consequence of Remnants. "So does that mean I can create my AGONY?"



"Yes, especially us, who generate negative feelings. There's no living being, be it an animal or a human, that doesn't emit negative feelings. AGONY can manifest without the help of Remnant, but only if the negative feelings are strong, very strong. Otherwise, it's rare for it to manifest; generally, it remains as an energy that doesn't interact with the world. Otherwise, the world would be a war zone and post-apocalyptic," Michael shuddered at the thought. Especially because this world has an excess of Remnant; it's a miracle that no fool has found this substance.



Greg's back shivered at that. He really should learn to control his negative feelings because he has Remnant in his body; any AGONY he releases could manifest in the world, and that would be very dangerous. Honestly, he doesn't want to be the reason the world goes further to hell than it already is.



"We can leave that for another time," said Michael before turning his gaze back to the warehouse. "We have a job to do right now. So tell me, did you feel it, Kiddo?"



Greg nodded, quickly understanding what Michael was referring to. "I could feel people's energies as if I had some kind of radar. If I had to guess, my own Remnant synergizes with the souls of other people."



Michael smiled at his explanation, clearly impressed, making Greg smile with satisfaction and warmth in his body. "You got it pretty fast, kid, even faster than I did," Michael said with a proud smile, even if he never had any support from anyone when he was a corpse and was learning about the mysteries of Remnant. "So... how many people do you sense inside and outside the warehouse?"



"20 inside the warehouse and 17 outside the warehouse," Greg frowned uncertainly. "Although one of those outside feels different. Although I'm not sure why."



Michael nodded with a serious look as his eyes were fixed on some part of the warehouse. "I feel it too. It's not something I was familiar with. Honestly, the energy this person emits is similar to that thing, but at the same time, very different," Michael briefly thought of the worm-like whale; their energies were similar but very different. Trying to compare them was like comparing a cat to a tiger. Both are felines, but they would never be the same.



"That thing?" Greg asked puzzled by the comparison he was unfamiliar with. Now Greg had no idea what Michael was comparing the energy they were feeling right now to, but something told him that the thing was not something pleasant or beautiful.



"Don't worry about that, Kiddo," Michael dismissed, but something in his instincts itched at him, telling him something was wrong. He hadn't felt that feeling before he was tricked into entering the Scooping Room, because he ignored that feeling; he died. This time would be different. "I think it's best to eliminate this person quickly. We have to be as stealthy, skillful, and discreet as possible."



Greg looked at him confused for a few minutes before giving him an incredulous look. "By eliminate, do you mean kill?"



Now it was Michael's turn to be horrified. "What?! No!" Michael then sighed in exasperation. "Killing is wrong. Okay, never go with the intention of killing, unless there's no other choice and we're desperate." Then Michael's gaze shifted to his own hands as if he were looking at something that wasn't there. "Believe me, Kiddo, once you kill someone, your hands will be stained for eternity, and I don't want that for you, you know?"



Greg nodded a bit relieved; he wasn't willing to kill anyone either. He didn't want to become that kind of person. He wanted to be better than those who intimidated him, than those who dismissed him as useless. He was going to show them they were wrong here and now.



"What I meant was that we take this person with the unknown energy out of the equation before they become a problem for us," Michael explained.



Greg nodded, feeling the importance of Michael's words, but there was a small problem with that. "But how do we approach this person without others noticing that we're interfering in their operations?" Greg posed the problem, and if he was honest, he wasn't sure how they were going to manage to sneak without anyone noticing them; it was practically impossible.



Michael smiled because he knew why Greg was hesitating about what he had suggested. Then he started pointing at one of the boxes before pointing at one of the posts leading to one of the beams of the building, where you could hide and access one of the halfway-open windows.



Greg looked at him with his mouth open and with disbelief. "How were you able to notice something like that?" Then Greg looked at the box before looking at the post to end up on the beam, only to shake his head in denial. "What you propose is ridiculous. I can't do that. I've never been one of those people who exercise, let alone do gymnastics." Greg hissed with irritation.



Michael looked at him amused. "You don't, but I'm sure my Remnant has. Just let yourself be guided by the instincts of my Remnant. Believe me, sometimes you'll be surprised by the conversation instinct the soul juice has. Or at least, in what concerns my Remnant." Then he sighed. "If you can't do it, then it's better for us to leave this place. Otherwise, I feel this will become very dangerous."



Greg thought about it carefully for a few seconds before nodding with determination. If Michael said he could do it, then he was going to do it to not disappoint him, and it would be quite embarrassing to fail when someone puts their hopes in you.



Even if he failed, he could always retreat. He wouldn't be running away; it would be a tactical withdrawal when he was better prepared for what he was about to do. And there was also the option of calling the police or the PRT.



Greg took a deep breath to calm his nerves. "All right, I'm ready."



Michael looked at him for a few minutes before nodding. "I'll be watching your back, but there's only so much a ghost like me can do without being able to interact with the world. So be careful, and if it's too much, you can retreat. There's nothing wrong with knowing when you're overmatched."



Greg nodded, understanding the point, even if it would leave a bad taste in his mouth if he had to retreat because of non-capes. But Michael was right. It was better to withdraw than be defeated by the pride of proving something.



Greg closed his eyes as he clenched his fists, mentally preparing for what he was about to do. Then he opened them, and although Greg didn't notice, his purple eyes began to glow creepily, showcasing his powers to anyone who looked into his eyes.



Greg moved when all the people outside the warehouse were distracted for a moment. He ran without making any sound of steps before launching and rolling to cover himself with a box. He closed his eyes to sense the people around him and opened them again when it was time to move.



He moved stealthily, using the boxes as cover, heading toward the post, only to crouch down when he felt someone looking in his direction. Greg held his breath while hiding in the shadow of one of the buildings, trying to blend into the darkness. He didn't move for a few minutes before he no longer felt the gaze.



Greg leaped to land in a Spiderman style, making no noise, and immediately launched himself to the post with feline grace, clinging to it for a few minutes before quickly climbing, holding tightly to the post. When he was close enough to the beam, he supported his legs, tensed them, and jumped to grab onto the metal beam. He struggled for a moment before pulling himself up and immediately blending into the nearest shadow.



Honestly, he was incredulous about what he had achieved. It seemed surreal to accomplish something he had never tried before, filling him with euphoria. He could still feel all the adrenaline pumping through his body, joining the strange Remnant energy from Michael, while feeling a reassuring gesture.



Speaking of Michael, Greg discreetly looked around for him and found him looking at him in plain sight with a thumbs-up. No one seemed aware that Michael was there since he was in plain view of everyone. So, it was reassuring and sad at the same time because he didn't want to imagine existing as a ghost without anyone noticing you.



The selfish part of Greg that felt reassured was that if he had never met Michael, he would probably be dead. And worst of all, no one would miss him. The only person who would notice him would be his mother, but he barely spent time with her due to her work. So, he wondered how long his mother would mourn him before forgetting him.



That's why he was relieved because Michael was now his friend, and they were united in good and bad times. Despite all the mistakes Greg might make, he knew Michael would never abandon him because he's the only person who knows of his existence. He was his first and only friend, besides being his teacher guiding him on the path of the supernatural, as he had said. Greg had to achieve his plan. He didn't want to disappoint Michael; he had to show him that he was worthy.



You can't let him look at you the way others do. That's why you have to do whatever it takes to earn his respect and achieve it. You have to impress him and avoid at all costs that he sees you as someone useless.



Greg made a face at that, but this time, he was aware of what it meant. He could easily ignore it while focusing on the task. And although the stupid voice of AGONY was right, Michael wasn't the only reason he was doing this, but to prove to himself that he wasn't useless and that he could make a difference as long as he set his mind to it.



He was doing this even before that stupid voice started babbling. Here was the before and after a new era, a new life for Greg Veder. Everyone would realize the mistake they were making by ignoring him and would start wanting to be friends with him voluntarily.



You don't need them. If they didn't appreciate you before, they won't appreciate you now, and they'll only use you for what you are now. And what you will become.



Greg frowned. He was going to ignore that honestly. He wasn't going to bother with what that thing trying to manipulate him was saying. So, he did what came to his mind and silenced AGONY with Michael's Remnant. He waited a few seconds to see if the results were successful, thinking negative things. Fortunately, the voice didn't return, and he smiled satisfied and proud of himself that it had worked.



Stop getting easily distracted, Greg. You're doing it again. Focus on what you have in your hands right now.



Greg moved stealthily along the metal beam when he felt no one was looking at him. He balanced like a professional gymnast on a tightrope, quickly reaching the window that was half open before making a big jump. He flexed his back and legs to astonishing levels.



Greg landed crouched inside the warehouse. Euphoria tried to dominate him, but he restrained it before laughing out of excitement. This wasn't the time for fooling around; he could boast once he finished what he was doing.



Honestly, the flexibility of my body is amazing, even my grip strength is no small thing as I can climb a pole quickly and easily, plus I can hold myself with just my arms for a few seconds on the metal beam. My powers are more amazing than I had originally calculated.



He clenched his fists to calm the emotions that arose from within. Greg closed his eyes to search for the energy, but he furrowed his brow when he didn't find it in the same place but on the other side of the warehouse.



Strange, I could swear that guy wasn't so far from where I am.



How he moved to the other side without him noticing was beyond Greg. It was almost as if he had teleported to that place out of nowhere, but that shouldn't be possible as far as Greg knew. There was no person capable of using teleportation, except for Oni Lee.



Greg blinked before paling, realizing whose strange energy they had sensed moments ago. Maybe he should leave and abandon this; he wasn't sure about his chances against a teleportation and clone cape.



He closed his eyes to sense the energy before feeling it behind him, making him open his eyes in panic and look back in horror.



A demonic mask with a lascivious grin, and fangs from ear to ear, stared back at him as a knife extended toward his body.



His body reacted before his brain caught up with what had happened moments ago. His head tilted to the side, narrowly avoiding the knife that was about to cut his throat. Then, he immediately reached out to touch Oni Lee.



But before touching him, Oni Lee created a copy of himself, surrounding him on both sides. His arm made contact with one of the Oni Lee copies, and it convulsed violently before disintegrating into a cloud of white carbon ashes.



His instincts screamed at him to move, so he did immediately. He leaped backward while his eyes focused on the katana that had nearly cut him in half. Both clones that tried to cut him stared at him for what seemed like an eternity to Greg, but it was only a few seconds.



Greg frowned as sweat dripped down his forehead. Something was bothering him about all this.



Michael appeared by his side with a somber look, realizing what had happened and why his instincts had been warning him from the moment they realized they had sensed this strange energy.



"He seems to have discovered us the moment we were somehow given his atypical energy," Michael concluded. His eyes moved to where the new clones of Oni Lee were appearing as they surrounded Greg. "Most likely, he sensed our negative feelings or, more accurately, your negative feelings, Greg."



If Oni Lee was someone sensitive to people's malicious intentions towards him, then that would explain why Greg was caught so quickly. The AGONY that Greg was released from his negative thoughts must have been strong enough for Oni Lee to detect it.



Michael doubted this because most people are not sensitive to AGONY, and although he could feel the emotions Greg emanated moments ago, it was rare for a person not familiar with AGONY to feel it. This made Michael wonder if Oni Lee being ability to detect the AGONY emotions had to do with him being a Parahuman.



Greg tried to touch Oni Lee again when he barely dodged the katana, but he got the same result as the first time. The clone convulsed before turning into ashes. He twisted his body in an unnatural way to dodge a direct cut to his heart before jumping and somersaulting while avoiding the other attacks from the rest of the clones. He tried to kick the one he thought was the real Oni Lee, but when his kick connected, it turned into ashes.



Greg didn't land perfectly because he stumbled and hit something with his elbow. Whatever he managed to hit fell to the ground, causing a loud noise that echoed throughout the warehouse.



Greg had only one word to describe what had happened.



"Shit."



Michael frowned, becoming increasingly serious. "Indeed. Shit."

 

[Paxkun12]

The second chapter is called chapter three, the first chapter doesn't have a thread mark, this is a mess.

Fine story though

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Hahaha, what a mess, lmao, but I think I fixed it. Apparently it was a bug in the configuration. So I had to try again.

You can verify that the chapters are correct and marked with threads.

I'm loving this so far looking forward to more.

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Thank you. I fixed the error that chapter two was not showing for some reason, but you can do it now. Just in case you missed them and had a little confusion.
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I'm sorry for the mistake, I'm new to this site so I'm trying to adapt.