A few minutes earlier
“Jesus, how many lab coats do you need?” Calvin muttered as he opened the next locker filled with hangers and stacks of the same article of clothing. His brows raised in surprise, however, seeing as some of the lab coats were unusual. “They come in other colours? Woah— so it isn’t all white. The movies lied to me again.”
He formed a fist in pretend anger before thumbing through the lab coats in the locker. The mischievous side of him sparked and he started throwing the lab coats out of the locker as protest and revenge against the vile scientists that ran the place.
“Hmm… this red one looks cool,” he mumbled, taking out the dark crimson lab coat and holding it up against the light. “At least they won’t see it if I’m bleeding.”
He tossed the cool one towards the entrance, planning on wearing it on the way out— after he finds a shirt and a pair of pants since he figured he’d look like a pervert otherwise. Thankfully, the locker over was rife with articles of clothing that covered his lower body. He didn’t know who the weirdo was that only stored three sets of different-patterned pajama pants and a pair of pink wooly slippers, but he thanked them internally nonetheless.
‘Wait, no don’t thank them. Fuck you, evil scientists.’ He thought as he tossed two of the pajama pants on the ground before putting on the last one, the blue and white sheep-patterned pants. It clashed with the pink slippers, but fashion was the last thing on his mind right now.
The next two lockers over had piles of papers and books and pictures of children, husbands, and wives behind the locker door— all of which found their way to the floor via Calvin’s sense of justice.
“Food!” Calvin exclaimed as he immediately snatched the Tupperware full of granola bars after opening the adjacent locker. He pried open the container with his glutonny-induced strength and grabbed one of the granola bars.
An itch formed in his mind, one telling him to smell the food before eating it. And so he did.
“Hooh… honey, brown sugar, sesame seeds, sunflower seeds, raisin, apricot, peanut butter, coconut oil, and cinnamon—”, he paused, eyes widening as he stared at the granola bar, “—what the fuck was that? How did I— oh!”
His confusion overpowering the sense of urgency of the blaring alarm, he opened the Super Information screen with just a simple thought.
Super Information
Super Name None Super Attributes Super Status Alive, Cold, Malnourished, Spirit-severance Super Body 0 Super Quest None Super Mind 0 Super Points 0 Super Spirit 0.5
Super Powers
Impervious Pebble Gourmand's Instinct
“[Gourmand’s Insight]. That was the other… Super Help!” Calvin exclaimed.
Super Help
Gourmand's Insight The Super is now able to know the ingredients of any food item via any sense, as well as instinctively sense any additional ingredient in the vicinity that would enhance said food item.
“So that’s what it does,” he muttered, re-reading it idly while munching on the bar. He let out a low moan as the nutty and fruity sweetness spread itself all over his tongue. “Fuck… that’s really good.”
He finished the bar and closed the box of goodies, hesitating for a moment before sliding it over to the entrance alongside the red lab coat. His thoughts were already a step ahead of his current situation, as was a constant reminded on all those survival videos he had watched. Food would be needed whether or not he escaped the lab, either for survival or as bait. Although he didn’t know if he’d use it for the latter.
“Pyramid of needs, Calvin,” he reminded himself, checking off from a barely-remembered diagram he was shown once when he was still going to school. “Food and some warmth gained, I need water— or a gun. Preferably a gun.”
He moved on, continuing his streak of pilfering and vandalism as he opened more lockers with useless objects inside. Ironically, there were quite a few action figures of superheroes from comic books he’d never seen.
“Woah this one’s heavy.” He groaned, opening one of the lockers with a door that had an unexpected weight on it. A whistle escaped his lips as he saw the objects of cause. “Holy sh— that’s a big golden wrench.”
Attached to the door of one of the lockers was a collection of golden novelty wrenches. From ones the size of his petite little pinky to the gigantic sledgehammer-sized tool that was as long as his lanky arms. He could only imagine the price tag for one of these, not to mention the entire collection.
The size of the tool was impressive, but Calvin wondered about its performance.
“Heh, now it’s my big golden wrench.” He uttered before grabbing the biggest one to try to lift it. Emphasis on ‘trying’. “Hnngh!”
Unfortunately, the malnourished and fatigued Calvin who had the body fit for being a poster boy of malnutrition was no match against gravity’s hold on the opulent wrench. The gigantic tool was only nudged a tiny bit from the notches holding it in place, with no indication that it would free itself with the strength he bore.
“Damn it… fine. Small one it is.” He took the largest he could carry with one hand, the one that was about less than a foot long. It was heavy, heavy enough to give a concussion, which was essentially why he was grabbing one in the first place.
“It’s not about the size…”, he muttered, his glances looking back and forth between his and the big one. “Okay, weapon secured. And future money, I guess. Now I just need a shirt.”
He ran to the entrance and dropped the wrench there, an attempt to throw it over not even crossing his mind now that he realized the paltry strength in his stick-like arms.
Scouring the other lockers yielded no result in his quest to find something to cover up his torso. He did find someone’s half-empty bottle of water, which he briefly hesitated on drinking on account of evil scientist cooties. The parched inside of his mouth won in the end and the bottle was downed in an instant.
“Fuck, is this the last one?” He cursed, looking around the room to check for any other unopened locker, only to find his observational prowess trustworthy.
Calvin looked to the last locker, the one near the end of the room. The locker seemed a bit more peculiar than the rest, in that there was nothing unique about it at all. Other lockers in the room had scratches, name tags, stickers, and drawings of genitalia, but this one looked clean— no, abandoned.
Of course, it didn’t matter to the otherworlder with the pointy nips. All he hoped for was to find something he could wear inside.
“Seriously?” He blurted out, sighing at the contents.
There was only one object inside. A plain white shirt, pinned to the back wall of the locker like some sort of trophy, exactly what he needed. It would‘ve been a great find if it wasn‘t fit for the size of a two-month-old toddler.
“What the hell is this?” He couldn‘t help but chuckle at the ridiculous shirt. “Well, souvenir. Yoink.”
Super Equip
Super Gear: Plain White Shirt detected. Equip? Yes No
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
“Super Equip and Super Gear… I’m surprised the options aren’t ‘Super Yes’ and ‘Super No’.” He joked, his gaze promptly looking back and forth between the panel and the baby shirt. “Super equip… is it going to force me into the shirt if I say yes? Surely not, right?”
He waited for a moment to see if the Super Help would respond, which unfortunately didn’t happen. Nevertheless, he took a gamble and pressed the button to equip.
The shirt in his hand transformed into motes of white light which slowly streamed towards him. Not a second later, Calvin felt the texture of cloth caress his upper torso, a feeling of warmth and energy suddenly filling him as the white light disappeared and revealed the [Plain White Shirt] already being worn by him.
He looked down, wondering in amazement at how that tiny piece of cloth expanded to fit a size that he’d consider perfect. Not too small, not too big, just enough to push his legs into, get into a fetal position, and pretend to be a rock.
“Cool, but I look ridiculous.” He muttered with an amused chuckle, seeing his naked self wearing only a plain white shirt. “Uh— so what does Super Gear do?”
Super Help
Plain White Shirt A piece of armor designed by its creator to hide in plain sight. Automatically conforms to the Super‘s preferred dimensions and enhances the Super‘s body.
“Super,” he quipped, glancing down again with a gaze filled with exponential amounts of appreciation towards the ordinary-looking shirt.
He was tempted to go to other locker rooms now to pilfer more of these lockers, but the blaring alarm he had been trying his best to ignore was not a pitch higher. There was no indication of danger level, but he figured if the alarm was practically screeching at him then it mean that he should get the fuck out.
“Shirt acquired, time for the rest of the ensemble.”
Jogging over to the entrance, he grabbed and wore every article of clothing he’d decided to wear on his way out. After equipping them in a non-super way, he looked down at himself to admire his egregious crimes against the fashion industry.
[Plain White Shirt], sheep-patterned pajama pants, pink woolly slippers, random socks, and a red lab coat on top. With a plastic container of food under his arm and a golden wrench in his right hand, the mad-billionaire-hobo look was finally complete.
“Time to go,” he muttered, unlocking the door and cracking it open just enough to peek his head through. “Coast is clear. Move out.”
He pushed it open and entered the hallway, immediately jogging towards the fire exit that was just a room over. Pushing lightly on the handle, the door opened without resistance prompting him to quickly go inside and close it behind him.
Turning around, he found a stairwell in his immediate front, along with a map by the side and large letterings on the wall to determine where he was at.
“B-twelve?” He read the writing before turning to the map and squinting to find a clue about his location. “Oh. Basement twelve… where is that— fucking fuck. Of course. I’m in the deepest goddamn floor of the deepest fucking evil lab in history.”
He turned towards the stairs, then to the exit, then to the huge number on the wall. “Elevator. There must be an elevator somewhere.”
Quickly skimming the map in the wall, he traced a finger over the middle of the facility. “If there’s an elevator, then it should be—”, he tapped the smallest room in the map with the big letter ‘E’ labeling it, “—Elevator!”
He traced the path to the elevator, memorizing it before going out of the door with excited haste. A lengthy jog that practically made him backtrack to where he came from, he was reminded of the guard from earlier. As he recalled, the man came from the other hallway, the one he didn’t go through, and the direction where the elevator was supposed to be.
Sure enough, a few rooms over, there was the elevator. And it was open.
“Lucky~”, he sang with a smile and entered the lift. He looked to the side where a holographic display was doing its job and was showing him the list of floors, “Zero, B-one, B-two, yep— it’s an evil scientist lab, being underground is a requirement. Checks out.”
He pressed the holographic ‘0’ on the display, feeling the machine whir to life as the doors closed and a tiny melodious ding rang out followed by a cheerful jingle. A satisfied smile appeared on his fatigued face, happy that he thought to look for an elevator seeing how long the floor number indicator took to change with every movement.
‘Either this elevator’s slow as hell or the underground bunker of an evil lab is dug deep.’ He thought idly, watching the number go up. Calvin would’ve bet for the latter if he had anything to bet with.
A sudden whirring made him tense up, the elevator started slowing as it neared B3. Calvin briefly wondered why the elevator was stopping there before his eyes widened and his face visibly paled— someone else was using it.
“Fuck… why am I so dumb.” He muttered, gritting his teeth and readying the wrench in his hand. The thought of someone else using the elevator never occurred to him.
The realization of his own lacking insight, the painfully irritating existence of hindsight, and the dreadful tension of someone discovering his escape all added up to a gigantic hand snuffing the fire of his celebratory mood.
A cheerful ding rang from the elevator followed by the prompt opening of the doors served like fanfare to reveal his fuckup to the three people waiting on the other side.
Calvin’s heart started beating out of his chest as he looked at the three cosplayers.
One of them wore a gold and white latex form-fitting bodysuit and a detective’s coat, complete with lightning motifs on his ankles, waist, and mask. Even with Calvin’s own lack of insight, he could still guess why the man’s suit was designed like that.
Another was cosplaying a certain witch from a certain wardrobe, giving her own take on the witch‘s dress by replacing everything with blue flowers, vines, and leaves. She still maintained the witch’s golden hair, alongside a white crown connected to a half-mask that looked like something to be worn to a pompous masquerade.
The third and final one was a clock. That was it. He, or she, was a normally dressed person who had a clock for a head. Sure, they had pajamas on, which made him feel a bit of kinship towards the person, but the fact that his head was a literal clock disabused him of any notion that they would be friendly. He didn’t know why, maybe he had an internalize trauma with alarm clocks.
The four of them stood frozen, staring at each other. Calvin couldn’t handle awkward silences, quipping to break the ice. “Uh… what floor?”
The man in white and gold flinched, breaking out of his daze with a glare towards him. His figure blurred, making Calvin’s brows furrowed in confusion. Before he could rub his eyes to check his vision, he felt a force pushing him to the back wall of the elevator. The man had pinned him down.
“What the—”
“Lightspeed!”
“Who are you?” The golden man asked, his voice deep and stern.
Still in shock, he answered honestly. “I’m… Calvin?”
“Really? Are we attacking kids now?” The white and blue witch annoyedly asked.
“For all we know he’s a super.”
“B—but Brainmatter said there are no—”
“I’d be a moron if I believe a supervillain.” Lightspeed barked back before turning his attention back to Calvin. “What are you doing here, Calvin?”
“What do you think? I’m using the elevator.” He replied promptly with undisguised annoyance.
There was a momentary silence that was broken by the woman’s stifled laughter. “Pft.”
“You little— Timebender, do your thing. We need to hurry.”
“O—okay.”
The clockperson walked towards them and motioned to grab Calvin’s arm. He felt dread for some reason, looking at the arm coming towards him he instinctively pulled it away from Timebender. Unfortunately for him, he was still caught and abruptly sent into a wave of nauseous hell.
A simple touch was all it took for waves of revulsion to echo and reverberate from where he was grabbed, hitting him like a metaphorical train in his literal stomach. His vision spun, his head whirled, and he felt like the time when he was a kid and played around in the swivel chair for an entire day.
Timebender paused, releasing Calvin and looking towards him with flustered confusion oddly represented well by the movement of the clock hands.
“Timebender?” The fast asshat turned to the clock. Calvin still wasn’t in slow-mo. He was just about to ask him to hurry up when he heard his hostage start to retch.
“Hurk…”
“Uh— Lightspeed, is he okay? He doesn’t look too good.” The girl asked worriedly at the sight of Calvin’s quickly paling face. “Calvin? Are you goo—”
Splatter. Green goo, mixed with an assortment of nuts and dried fruits, spewed out of his mouth like a broken faucet directly toward the fast man‘s face.
“What the shit?!” The man recoiled, letting go of Calvin who fell to his knees and hands.
“Eww…” The girl jumped away from Calvin’s noxious attack.
“I don’t understand…” Timebender muttered, blissfully ignoring being in the splash zone.
“Cough… ugh…” Calvin groaned on the ground, his entire body feeling more than just fatigue. He felt empty if that made any sense. He craned his neck up to look at the clock. “What did you do to me?”
The clock ignored him, still furrowing the clock hands on their face while in deep contemplation and confusion.
The elevator doors whirred, letting out its joyful ding as a signal to let him know they were closing.
Knowing he didn’t really want to be stuck in an enclosed space with a man in latex who was eager to pin him down and a clockperson that could make him projectile vomit at will, although the woman seemed to be nice, she made no effort to stop any of it. With that in mind, Calvin made the least dumb decision he had made so far in his time in this evil lab— he escaped.
Kicking the back wall of the elevator, he shot out and dove forward through the closing doors. He tumbled for a moment before ending up on his back, looking like a starfish drying under a sunlamp.
He craned his neck up, looking at an upside-down elevator and an upside-down masked man covered in vomit and shooting a rueful glare towards him.
There were three options open to him right now: one was to try and talk it out with the man and subsequently get hit in the face, two was to try and run away from the man and get hit on the back of the head, and three— summon a pebble.
And so he pulled on his will and summoned an [Impervious Pebble], right in front of the man’s forehead. The second least dumb decision this day.
“You f—”, the man blurred, as Calvin expected him to, then subsequently got knocked back, as Calvin hoped he would. His speedster motifs clued him to his speedster powers, which gave him the idea of making a roadblock.
“Martin!” The girl suddenly shouted as the doors closed, finally leaving Calvin to his lonesome.
“Immovable object versus completely stoppable force— pebble wins.” He commentated while panting heavily on the ground.
A bout of silence passed as he lay on the cold evil lab floor, slowly waiting for the nausea to go away. It did eventually fade, but only slightly, like a feather’s tickle kind of slightly. He still felt like absolute shit.
He craned his neck again and checked the number on the elevator— they had gone up to the top floor already. “I need to move.”
Forcing himself, he stood up and wobbled a bit, grabbing his dropped wrench before marching forward to where the fire exit ought to be. ‘So there are superheroes in this world and it’s not just the weirdo of a system slamming the word ‘super’ in front of everything. Superpowers, superheroes, and maybe supervillains. This place might be a supervillain lair…’
He thought back to the three from the elevator. “Budget flash, white witch, and vomit boy— although technically I’m vomit boy… still, fuck that guy. Alarm clock-looking ass… I’ll summon a pebble in your stomach, see how you like it.”
Grumbling while power-walking down the corridor, he paused his adventure upon meeting a pile of groaning men in black armor. A moment’s thought was enough to recognize that these people must’ve been henchmen of some kind, and probably deserved what had come to them. Still, the blood and mangled bodies were a gruesome sight that upset his already empty stomach.
“Good thing I’m not going there,” he muttered, turning away to head towards the other corridor. Nearly slipping on the icy floor, he walked with more care while following the path of ice he assumed was made by the trio. “Damn… why is it so cold down here?”
A bit more of a walk later, he arrived at a busted pair of doors on the floor and a heavenly smell in the air. He turned to the opened room, glancing for a moment towards where the fire exit should be before prioritizing his empty stomach.
“Energy. I need energy.” He coped, waddling over the frost-covered floor and into the room. A smile blossomed on his face while he subtly pumped his fists as he saw the familiar inside. “Cafeteria!”
Penguin walking over to one of the tables, grabbed one of the perfectly-shaped bananas on a tray and devoured it in one go, barring the skin of course. He wasn’t that pea-brained.
“Banana…” He muttered. [Gourmand’s Instinct] got triggered upon touching the food, informing him that the banana was indeed made of pure banana.
While peeling and eating another of the yellow berries to replace the nuts and a grain he had covered Lightspeed with, he traced the path of ice and mess the trio had caused. “So they went through here… why? Got hungry in the middle of infiltrating?”
He scratched his chin as the gears in his brain clanked and whirred like a dying antique sewing machine. “No, the doors fell out of the room so they probably— fuck it. I’ll just go check. There might be a superfood in here or something.”
He started sliding on the slippery floor, grabbing another banana from a table before heading towards the other door. Entering what looked like a room-sized pantry, his eyes started darting around for any clue or any kind of food with the label ‘super’ on top before pausing as something peculiar caught his attention— a fridge.
A fridge isn’t out of place in a pantry. It would be odd, but not weird.
A fridge to Narnia, however, was a different story.
“That‘s some Monster‘s Inc. shit,” He muttered, walking over to the fridge. Calvin squinted as he looked inside, seeing only a dark corridor with dim lights and no obvious way out. “So they entered from here. Things are making sense in a weird way.”
He looked back to the room, hesitating for a moment before deciding to go with his theory. Pilfering a bag of chips from the side, he entered the fridge and closed it behind him.