As my sight returned to me, I found myself in what seemed to be a dirty alley. The sky was dark, and the air was uncomfortably moist. The mix of moisture with the smell of the trash that littered the alley walls made me a little nauseous. However, the sharp prickling I felt in my bones took away my attention. Whatever that God had made to send me here removed the pain medication from my blood, because the pain I was feeling was a lot worse than usual. As my attention shifted to my body, I began to notice the differences. If my arms before were thin from years of battling a terminal illness, now they were almost skeletal. I also noticed how my line of sight seemed slightly off, and realized I had got an inch or two shorter. Quickly I remembered about the drawbacks I chose, Weak Body and Sickly, it seemed they were responsible for these changes.

I almost began to regret my choices, but I steeled my resolve instead. My choices were already made, and they were made for a good reason, I should focus on using my powers to heal myself instead. While thinking about my powers I realized another problem. I couldn't feel them. This brought me back to my choices of drawbacks, Sink or Swim, and Natural Trigger. My anxiety spiked. At any moment now I would go through a life-or-death situation traumatic enough to make me trigger, and I was dreading it. As if the world was listening to my thoughts, I began to hear approaching footsteps and increasing voices coming from one of the sides of the alley. My body froze and, as if in slow motion, I began to see three figures appearing on the side of the alley I was closest to.

The three of them wore all black, with leather jackets and shaved heads, all looking to be somewhere around their late twenties to mid-thirties. As the one with a stylized 88 tattooed on the side of his head saw me, he turned to one of the other two men.

"Hey Marv, look at that bum ova'there. Fucker looks as if he came straight out of a concentration camp," he said with a slight slur in his voice.

"Looks like just another junkie to me," the tallest one responded with contempt.

"Hey, why don't we rough him up a bit? Don't want the thrash to think they can just keep lounging around, polluting our turf, do we?" Said the last one. He had a vicious smile on his face, one that showed too many teeth.

"Sure. Been a while since we had some fun," answered the one with a head tattoo.

"Both of you can go, I'll have a smoke," said the tall one as he leaned against the wall and took out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket.

Soon, the two men began to walk toward me. My mind began to race a mile a minute, If I understood the drawbacks correctly, this event could turn out to be very much lethal. Noticing how the man with a tattoo was staggering slightly and remembering his somewhat slurred speech, I assumed they had been drinking before. Taking the alcohol in their systems into consideration, I assumed I could probably run from them. So I turned to the other end of the alley and began to run, being followed soon after by the two men.

"Oh, he's a runna huh"

"C'mon, let's get him!"

The moment I left the alley, I slowed my run. I had no idea where I was, the street that greeted me felt wholly unfamiliar. Unsure of where to go, I just picked a random direction and continued to run. However, I had forgotten to take my body into account, and with the drawbacks, I was even weaker than before. I had barely ran a few blocks before I began to slow down. My lungs burned while I heaved and my legs screamed from the pain, each step sending jolts of pain through my bones. After running one more block, I tripped, scrapping my elbows and my knees on the pavement while trying to break my fall. Tears threatened to leave my eyes as I felt untold pain irradiating from the bones of my elbows and knees, but I couldn't stop, I had to keep going. Just as I was trying to stand back up, I was brought back to the ground with a kick to my chest that left me completely winded.

"Damn, the fucker can run for someone who looks like a corpse," said the tattoed man.

"He sure can," the other man responded before turning to me, "I was just gonna rough you up a little, but now that you made me run all the way over here, I've changed my mind."

I tried to crawl away, but I was met with another kick. Before I realized it, I was hunched on the ground being kicked by both men. When one of the kicks landed in a place where my cancer was more developed, I screamed from the pain. They just kept kicking me, every time I tried to protect one place with my arms or legs, they would just kick somewhere else that I wasn't covering. The beating seemed to drag for what felt like hours, but eventually, the kicks stopped coming.

"It's no fun, he is not even moving anymore"

"Whatever, let's go back before Marvin gets annoyed"

They turned around and began to leave, as if they hadn't almost beaten a man to death. As they left, I kept shaking on the ground, the pain now covering most of my body. With the adrenaline gone, I felt drained, I could barely move. But slowly, I began to feel cold, my extremities stiff and numb as if they had almost been frozen. Understanding the direness of my situation, I forced myself towards another alley, where I crawled over to a pile of garbage bags and brought myself to the middle of them. Garbage bags weren't the best of insulators and they had a horrible smell, but I didn't have much choice if I didn't want to die of hypothermia on the street, so I covered myself with them.

While I was lying there, I was desperately hoping that someone would appear so I could get help. My body was cold and hurting, and I was pretty sure that I had either broken or bruised ribs from the beating I got. It was surprising how much I was afraid of dying now that I knew I could be cured considering I was the one who ended my last life. It was dark, and this place didn't seem to be considered safe, so barely any people passed through there. The few people that did were either too far to get their attention or ignored me when I tried to call for help, probably thinking I was begging or trying to mugg them. So when a middle-aged woman actually stopped at the entrance of the alley, my hope reignited.

"Hey there! Please, I need help!" I pleaded to her, my voice coming out weak and hoarse from constantly calling for help.

"What is it? I don't have any change," she said while giving me a guarded look.

"I need to go to the hospital, could you call an ambulance? I just got jumped by a few thugs, I think they were from the Empire," I asked.

The moment I mentioned the Empire her posture immediately became alert. She looked around as if a monster could appear out of any corner before she turned to look at me. She flashed a conflicted look for a moment before her expression returned to being guarded, then she turned around and began to briskly walk away from the alley. My heart sank, the street had become more and more deserted and it was unlikely someone else would appear, and even if they did, with the state of my throat I wouldn't be able to call for help again.

"Wait, Please! Come back!" I tried to shout, but my throat was so raw from all the shouting for help that what left my mouth was barely more than a whisper.

After around half an hour of resigned silence, I began to think about my life post-diagnosis, about how the disease slowly took everything away from me. First, it took away my ability to move, letting me only walk short distances before the pain became too much. Then, it took away my hope when the treatments proved ineffective. After, it took away my family, slowly driving me apart from them. Finally, it took away my will to live when it became too much to bear. And even now, after I had come back to life, it still kept taking from me. The thought filled me with rage, I felt like a furnace against the cold air surrounding me. I hated the unfairness of it all, I hated the being who brought me here, I hated the men who beat me, I hated the woman who just abandoned me, I hated myself for deciding to go here by my own choice, and I hated how my body fought against me each step of the way.

In the middle of that torrent of anger and helplessness at my situation, I felt something crack at the back of my mind. Immediately, the world seemed to shift. Everything seemed clearer, sharper, as if suddenly everything was more than before. Together with the clarity, I began to feel overwhelmed by the sudden explosion of information that I was receiving, suddenly I could feel every neuron and nerve in my body. My nervous system looked like a phantom limb or a new sense that I had just discovered. In my mind's eye, I could almost see it, looking like a bulb with roots sprouting out of it and branching all over my body. I couldn't help but laugh at the irony, a hoarse, bitter laugh. I wanted to trigger to get my powers and eventually cure myself, but now that I had triggered, I was going to die in an alley surrounded by garbage.

The trigger was the last straw, my energy was finally exhausted. I was cold, tired, everything hurt, and now I was seeing the sides of my vision darkening. As I felt myself losing consciousness, I could almost hear the distorted sounds of what seemed like a muffled voice. The last thing I felt before the darkness greeted me was a pair of hands pulling me from the garbage bags and placing me over something.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

...

I woke up startled, almost disbelieving that I was still alive. As I examined my surroundings I found myself in what seemed like a makeshift hospital bed while wearing a medical gown. The bed looked cheap and put together with only functionality in mind, to my side there were two other beds, both of them empty. When I tried to lift myself, I felt a sharp pain in my chest and couldn't help but let out a hiss of pain. Soon after, I heard a pair of hurried footsteps. A few moments later the door to the room I was in opened and from it came out a scruffy middle-aged man with a thinning hairline and wearing a doctor's coat over what seemed to be a set of old and worn casual clothes. He looked somewhat surprised seeing me awake, but slowly his expression turned to a tired one.

"Don't move, you have two broken ribs and a few more bruised ones," he said while

"Sorry, I won't try to move again. But how did I end up here? The last thing I remember was lying injured in an alley," I asked cautiously.

As much as it seemed like he was helping me, this was clearly not an official hospital, he could just as easily be trying to sell my organs. This is Worm, after all.

"My wife called and told me a man was dying in an alley, after she told me the address I drove there and pulled you into the car and brought you here," the man said with clear frustration when mentioning the incident.

"And where would here be? I don't want to sound rude, but this doesn't seem like a licensed clinic to me."

He gave me an appraising look for a few moments, before seeming to come to a decision.

"This clinic I run is not licensed, but the work I do here is no less important. The usual patients tend to be the kind who can't go to a proper hospital, if you get what I mean," he spoke slowly but firmly.

"I understand. Not everyone can afford it, and some just want to avoid having to answer uncomfortable questions."

"Thank you for your understanding. But I have something I need to tell you. While I did an x-ray of your ribs, I found the results quite concerning," he said hesitatingly.

"I have cancer, I'm aware," I replied resignedly.

The man seemed to relax minutely after hearing that.

"I'm sorry for your situation"

"It's okay. But now that you helped me, I can't help but wonder how much your treatment of me so far will cost. The men who jumped me took all the money I had..." I lied.

When I arrived in this world I had nothing with me except for the clothes on my back, so it was safer to lie than to explain how a man without identity or money popped up at Brockton Bay out of nowhere.

"It's fine, considering your situation I won't charge you. As for your ribs, they should heal in a month or two, just take some painkillers and make sure not no move your chest too much. Besides that, you are pretty much free to go home."

"I don't have a home... Not anymore, at least... I spent all my savings on cancer treatment and couldn't afford rent anymore. After getting jumped, I lost the last of what I had," I said trying to garner as much sympathy from the man as I could.

I felt bad lying so much to a man who had practically saved me from death's doors, but I had nowhere to go and I was still terminally ill. If I managed to convince him to let me sleep here or maybe even let me work as a helper or a handyman everything would be much easier. I would have time to begin exploring my powers and begin trying to cure myself. My doctor had estimated that I had only a few months left to live before I decided to end things on my own. The earlier that I could find a place to sleep and money for my tinkering, the more time I'd have to find a way to save myself. If everything failed I could still try to find Panacea, however, with the way her powers worked, I would out myself as a parahuman the moment she touched me.

"I'm sorry for your situation, truly. If you need you can stay here until tomorrow at least."

"Do you need any help? I could be a helper or a handyman. As long as you offer food and a place to sleep I would be willing to work for you."

"I. Um. I'm sorry, I don't need much help around here and we don't have a lot of food going around. But if you need, there should be a homeless shelter cl-"

"Please, I don't even need the food if you don't have it. I'm already dying, so I don't have long to live. Just let me stay here for a month or two, I could even sleep in a spare room or a closet. If I'm left on the streets I won't last a week!" I pleaded.

The man seemed very uncomfortable. He firmed his expression for a moment, making me think he would refuse. However, his expression soon softened to one of deep tiredness.

"If you just need a place to sleep for a month or two, I do have a Spare room you could use at the clinic. I will give you a blanket, but you will have to find a bed for yourself. Just don't bother my work or the patients, or I will kick you out."

"Thank you! I promise I won't cause any trouble, I just need a place to sleep. Oh, and I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Mark."

"I'm David. Now, stay still while I remove the IV."

After removing the needle connecting a half-empty IV bag filled with saline solution from my arm, David showed the overall layout of the clinic. He showed me where I could go, where I couldn't, and finally, where I was going to sleep. It was an old and dusty broom closet, just barely large enough to fit me lying on the floor. After he gave me my now-washed clothes, I thanked him one last time before he left. Soon after he left, I sat down and I began to explore my powers.

When I triggered, everything seemed clear, as if a fog had been lifted from my mind, but now I didn't feel that anymore. So I concentrated on the feeling in the back of my mind, and suddenly everything became clear again. I could instinctively change the way my neurons connected, I could make the synapses faster, and more efficient. Whole sections of my brain, like my frontal lobe and my cerebellum, began to work in tandem, like coordinating independent AIs. Each moment that passed my senses improved and my thoughts cleared as my brain had more time to absorb and associate information. However, I was already feeling an intuitive limitation. After my brain adapted and absorbed enough information, its improvement would stagnate. What I got from my power roughly translated to: No matter how good the software, if the hardware is not enough it will bottleneck. As it was, this would leave most functions of my brain at a barely superhuman level, just extrapolating my ordinary brain's capabilities to its biological limits.

Soon after, I tried to control my neurons. My Master power was a minor one, and I even had added a specialization on top of that so, unsurprisingly, my control was rather weak. The nanobot specialty should allow much finer control when it came to using the nanobots I would make, but I felt my range limited to an inch outside of my body, adding another large limitation. At least I had gained an intuitive understanding of my neurons, I could even somewhat control them like dampening their reception of pain. After a while of experimenting, I dampened the pain receptors around my cancerous tissues and injuries just enough so they would be bearable.

Finished with testing the Thinker and Master aspects of my power, I decided to finally test its main one. As I focused more and more on the feeling in my mind, knowledge of biology that I vaguely remembered from High-school before began to feel trivial. Information that I knew began to be instinctively connected and expanded upon. Wild Ideas began to sprout in my head, from things like making a computer that was basically a brain on a jar made to run AI, to nanobots made of small clusters of neurons supported by calcified structures. But before I could lose myself in daydreaming about possible tinker tech, I focused on my main problem, materials.

All the ideas I had used exclusively my tissue, my cells, and so I began to think of how to cultivate my own tissues. While focusing on this line of thinking, soon ideas began to sprout in my mind, and before long, I found a feasible one, stem cell cultures. I could extract stem cells from my bone marrow, then create cultures for it, and using those cultures with the right equipment, I would be able to grow my tinker tech inside vats. Another problem that I would have is food, without ATP or organically generated energy from food, I wouldn't be able to grow my cell cultures. I'm also pretty sure that the current knowledge of biology doesn't support those ideas, but I had a feeling that most problems I ran through, my shard would help me find a solution or a workaround.

My stomach began to rumble, which reminded me that I probably haven't eaten anything for the best part of the day considering it seemed to be around noon already. There was a small problem, however, I had no money. In my mind, I began to create objectives for me to achieve. They ranged from my immediate ones, like getting food to eat, all the way to surviving Gold Morning. After thinking for a while, I listed the main objectives in my mind. I may not have formed a plan, and the objectives were admittedly vague, but now I had an idea of what to do.

First I would have to get food, which shouldn't be too difficult. With the current state of my body, I was more likely to get change If I begged. Also, by my understanding of my powers, I should be able to learn how to steal food or pickpocket rather quickly with my improved brain functions. If push came to shove, I could ask David for help, but I'd rather not considering the amount of help the man already gave me. I'd prefer to work for money, but I was too weak to do any physical labor and those jobs were the only ones I qualified for while not having any documents or residence.

Thinking about my options I decided to steal. Begging would be too reliant on the goodwill of the people of Brockton Bay, that's not even considering how the homeless could get quite territorial about begging spots. As for pickpocketing, If I got caught, I would be at the mercy of the whims of the person I was trying to steal from considering the state of my body. Finally, stealing food from rich areas like downtown would at worst get me a beating from the security. Stealing food was too lowly of a crime to call the PRT for, and I was pretty sure that would be the way that would give me the most food with acceptable risk.

Having made up my mind, I get out of the medical gown and put on my washed clothes. They were not expensive, but with them, I wouldn't look like a hobo anymore, which was essential for stealing. If I looked too poor or suspicious, I would be either watched carefully or kicked out depending on how bad I looked. After thinking for a while, I decided to go to the boardwalk. From what I remembered from reading Worm, the boardwalk was a relatively safe touristic place that sold overpriced merchandise to tourists. Considering this, the boardwalk was the best place to go since it was likely to have many food stalls and cafes.

The only problem now was getting there. David had told me that this clinic was located at the docks, so it shouldn't be too far from the boardwalk. With this in mind, I went to ask David for directions. He did give me a weird look when I said I wanted to go to the boardwalk, even warning me that they would kick me out if I begged. However, I quickly denied any intent to beg and lied to him instead, telling him that I had an old friend that worked there that could give me some food. I hated having to lie to him again and again, but I wasn't sure he would let me stay here if he knew I was stealing.

Now, after a short explanation and with a vague and hastily drawn map in my hand, I left the clinic and went toward the bay.