Genesis 1.2

June 17th, 2010

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

"Excuse me. Spare some change?

"Spare some ch… okay."

"Spare some change? Please…"

His back slumped against the wall as he fell against it, the kid closing his eyes in bitter disappointment as another person walked past him only to avert their eyes. He slipped down the wall, letting out a tired sigh as his butt met the concrete. As his hands fell to his sides, he let go of the crude sign he had been holding. The cardboard itself landed face up between his legs, the torn edges just brushing up against the threadbare hat he used to accept what little change people would give him.

SPARE CHANGE PLS?

The people walking past him didn't even turn to acknowledge him or his sign, simply doing their best to avoid looking at him or getting too close to him as they passed him on the sidewalk. A part of him fumed at the purposeful avoidance, the fact that most of them wouldn't even drop a single quarter into his hat stoking the fire in his chest.

Even then, he couldn't blame them for not bothering to help. He wasn't singing or dancing or doing anything that could be considered entertaining enough to be worth their money. The boy knew that if he was on the other end, he wouldn't even look back with even the slight guilt or pity that was on many of their faces. Yet, it was those looks that made him all the angrier as he glanced at his overturned hat, it's content barely up to a few dollars in change. If you feel bad, do something about it! His face curled down into a grimace as he stared at their retreating backs as they passed him to walk farther into the outlet mall. Don't just look at me like you care when you obviously don't!

He hated when people did stuff like that. They didn't want to admit they were self-centered and selfish like everybody else so they would lie to themselves, convincing themselves that they were good and generous when most of them would only give when they felt that they had almost no other choice, social and societal pressure almost making the choice for them. Even grown-ups have to deal with peer pressure. The kid snorted, brushing the bottom of his nose with a finger. Stupid sheep.

The judgemental sneer disappeared off his prepubescent face, replaced by a practiced innocent smile as another group of people neared him. Lifting his head, the kid raised his sign on the off chance that they would actually look at him for longer than a moment. A moment later, his shoulders slumped as the same thing happened as always. Their conversation dimmed slightly as they caught sight of him, the group of friends (family?) speeding up their pace as they avoided looking directly at him.

The kid sighed and pushed his head back up against the brick wall behind him, his smile disappearing again. It wasn't like he didn't expect it, really. He stuck out like a sore thumb in this environment, compared to the wealthier, white people that frequented this shopping area. It was a conscious choice, his own decision and the sole reason he had made his way over here this morning. It was a drastic change from where he usually stood near downtown, the same spot he usually stood with this sign for… for…

The kid frowned. How long had he been like this?

Been here?

Two weeks? Three? It was hard to keep track of things like that without a calendar or anything like that. Not even feeling the need to think over it, he shrugged. However long I've been in this city, I guess?

He had hoped that in this slightly wealthier part of town, the people here would be more willing to part with their change. He had thought wrong, apparently. Rich people were, if anything, stingier than the average person, from what he could see.

Eyelids drooping slightly, he turned his head to track the next group of people as they entered the outlet mall, walking under the large arch that said "Hamburg Pavilion."

He blinked again, slowly, as he let out a sigh.

Hamburg Pavilion.

Lexington.

Kentucky.

The names rang hollow when he thought them or spoke them, lacking the sense of familiarity he would attribute to things he knew or places he'd lived. Places like Maryland and DC had that familiar ring though every single time the words came to mind, his faint memory telling him that he lived there at one point. That had been comforting, at first. Now, he doubted he'd find his home anywhere there, let alone anything to jog his memory.

No, even if he lived there, he doubted it was the same.

It wasn't as if he had any idea how he got here, in the first place. He had gone over that in his head for days before he just decided to let go, his lack of substantial memories not telling him anything. Well, anything beyond vague hints about what he assumed his life was like and the strangeness of where he was now.

After all, a world where Superman was actually real couldn't be the one he came from.

That one had knocked him for a loop when he realized it. A few days into his new life as a street rat and he found a newspaper as he dug through the trash looking for something to eat. He had almost tossed the paper over his shoulder but the headline made him freeze, startled by what it said.

"Superman Apprehends Mad Scientist"

Now, that didn't make any sense at all. Reading the whole thing to convince himself that it wasn't some type of prank, he received another shock when he realized where this newspaper came from. The Daily Planet. The entire day was like that, one shock after another. Hearing newscasters talk about Batman and Gotham City, a hotdog guy who would tell anyone who listened that he saw the Justice League when they first came together, and a friendly lady waiting for the bus who outright gushed about how Wonder Woman had been her role model her entire life; The boy wasn't sure at what point he accepted that he had been dropped into a comic book but eventually, he did.

Although, he was confused as to what kinda bizarro world this was. No one had heard of the Teen Titans, Wonder Woman had been around for like a hundred years or something, and Superman didn't have any trunks. There was no satellite base in space or on the moon, like he expected. Instead, there was some weird building he'd never heard of called the Hall of Justice that anyonecould just walk into. Hell, there was no Booster Gold, no Supergirl, no Superboy.

That piece of information had actually stung. It just wasn't DC without Superboy, in his opinion. He didn't understand who could have picked him up and dropped him here in this crazy comic-book world. He didn't understand why they had messed with his head and messed with his memories. And most importantly, he didn't understand why Superman didn't have any trunks. It made no sense!

And it still doesn't.

A loud gurgling sound caught his attention, his hand moving to cradle his stomach as he felt it protest for lack of food. The kid frowned again as he leaned forward slightly, trying to ride out the uncomfortable sensation. He had gotten used to this kind of hunger over the last few weeks, even though he doubted he was ever this hungry before.

From what little he remembered, he knew for sure that his parents kept him fed, even allowing him slightly more food than was healthy for a boy his age. He couldn't even remember his dad but he had the stark feeling that his dad would be disgusted at the idea that his son would be hungry like this, to the point of begging random strangers for change.

The type of hunger where you went to sleep early simply because it was better than staying awake hungry. The type of hunger where your stomach felt like it was eating itself simply because there was so little inside it. The kid let out a groan as the pain in his stomach receded, thankful for it. Here, he had no parents, was stuck sleeping in shelters that would take him in for the night, and had no proof that he existed anywhere. At least, wherever he lived before, he had a home.

"Damn it, if this is a dream, it sucks so hard," he muttered under his breath as another person walked by him with the same pitiful look that drove him up the wall. He was damn near starving, and all the money he had was barely enough to get him a cheap burger that would leave him hungry again in about an hour. Man, I'm pretty sure germs were my biggest problem before and now, look at me. The kid glanced down at his dirty clothes, the same ones he had worn for weeks on end, and closed his eyes. I need a shower so bad.

"What's the point of being in a superhero universe without money and powers?" A choked sob spilled from his lips, interrupting his mini-rant, as his stomach curled in on itself again. "... I'm so tired of this."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that."

The kid's eyes shot open wide, his head almost smacking the wall as he jerked back. "Wha-"

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In front of him stood an older woman, maybe in her early forties, with the type of bright, blond hair that the kid had never actually seen in person. She wore a bright blue thin sweater, the color seeming to match her personality judging by her bright smile. Her head tilted slightly, she stared down at him with a pitying smile that made him want to hit her.

Instead, he widened his eyes and stared back up at her, unsure of what to say to someone who actually bothered to talk to him, instead of just dropping spare change in his hat and walking away quickly. "Um… hello."

"Hello to you too," she responded, her voice almost a patronizing coo, almost like she was talking to a toddler. "Are you hungry, young man?"

The kid's eye twitched ever so slightly as his hand clenched around the "SPARE CHANGE PLS?" sign. No, I'm out here, looking like this, because it's fun.

"Yes, ma'am," was what he said instead, his head working faster than his mouth. "C-could you spare some change?"

"Change?"The woman shook her head, looking at him like he gave the wrong answer to a question. "Oh no no no, young man, that won't do. That won't do at all."

"Oh." His teeth clenched tightly as he closed his mouth, fingers digging into the cardboard of his sign even tighter. Why even talk to me, then? Why get my hopes up, you stupid, old b-

"You'll never get anywhere living off change," she continued, unaware of the boy's growing internal rant against her. "Let's get you something to eat! As much as you want. How does that sound?"

The kid stared up at her, mouth open slightly as he tried to process her words. After a moment, he swallowed the saliva building up in his mouth at the thought of a full meal - a real meal - for the first time in weeks. The woman's smile looked almost angelic right now, far from being patronizing, and the kid almost felt like hugging her, so overcome with thankfulness.

Restraining himself, the young boy just nodded rapidly.

"What would you like?"

This time, his mouth was faster than his head and he spoke without thinking, his mind focused on what he had been craving for weeks. "A burger."

She smiled again. "As many as you want." Her manicured hand clasped tightly around the top of her purse, the white bag still under one shoulder as she held out a hand for him to take.

The boy took her hand, his dark skin a contrast against her cream-colored complexion. His back scraping against the wall, he pulled himself up with only a slight groan and returned the woman's smile. I guess everyone's not terrib-

He didn't finish the thought as something slammed into him, knocking him into the wall with a powerful push. Hissing as his head struck brick, the boy's eyes snapped shut as the blinding pain pounded through his skull. Muttered curses spilled from his mouth as he pushed himself off the wall, and the kid blinked, watching as the kind woman went falling back against the ground, a scream on her lips.

"My purse!" Her hand flails in the air in the direction of the street leading away from the outlet mall, a hooded figure running full-tilt with a white purse in hand. Pushing aside people walking by him as he ran like a madman, the man rushed into the crowd of shoppers. "He stole my purse!"

"What?" The young boy's eyes widened in confusion as he realized what just happened. A moment later, they narrowed as he felt himself bristling with rage. I was going to eat with that! That's my money!

Without wasting a moment, the kid took off running after the guy, barely able to keep the thief in sight. Shoving aside the mall-goers as he pushed through the crowd, the young man continued to fume, brimming with a new kind of hate for someone that would basically steal food from his mouth. Pushing himself forward with a surge of energy that surprised him, as it seemingly came out of nowhere, he quickly found himself gaining on the criminal. "That was my meal ticket, dickhead!"

The man glanced over his shoulder at the shot, a dopey look on his face as he spotted the kid tearing after him, screaming at the top of his lungs. Wide-eyed and clearly confused, the thief jerked to the right, sprinting off towards the busy intersection.

"Jerk!" Not even stopping, the boy growled and pushed even harder as he forced himself to run faster than he ever had in the hopes of getting that free lunch. "You still have my money!" Running like a mad dog was at his heels, the purse snatcher tore into the intersection. The man nearly regretted his action as he narrowly avoided getting hit by a car immediately after, stumbling out of the way of an onrushing sedan as its horns blared, the owner screaming a litany of profanities at the idiot who ran into the street.

Not too far behind, the boy sprinted faster than he ever had in what he could remember of his his short life, his lungs burning as he forced himself to keep moving as fast as he could. Sweat and blood dripping down his forehead, he forcefully shoved aside the few people waiting at the stoplight and tore into the intersection, the thief just scrambling to his feet after the near miss. Screaming at the top of his lungs, the kid leapt forward and tackled the criminal.

As angry as he was, the boy was only thirteen and had about as much mass as you would expect for a boy of that age who wasn't severely obese. Even with all his effort, the lunge only stumbled the criminal, the man recovering far quicker than the the kid could react, or even marvel at how ineffective his attempt was, something struck him in the chest, the force of it nearly lifting him off his feet with the sudden impact.

As the kid fell back onto the asphalt, the back of his head slammed against the ground and he let out a pained shout as the jarring pain seemed to reverberate through his head. Biting his lip rather than scream, the kid rolled over and pulled himself to his feet, one hand moving up instinctively to touch the back of his head.

He hurt me again! was the kid's first thought, his hand coming away red. He hurt me again! Strangely, it was also his second thought. Just like that, the kid lunged forward, anger guiding his actions once more.

Horns honked, the people in the cars screaming at the top of their lungs as traffic in one direction was forced to halt on their behalf. The other people still around, watching on the sidewalks, seemed to be cheering and shouting just as loud as the traffic-goers for some reason, some even bringing out their phones. Strangely, they didn't seem to pointing it towards the action, instead lifting it towards the sky.

The kid swung his small fist as hard as he could, not even noticing as a bright glow seemed to flare around his limb. The purse snatcher didn't miss it, however, and his eyes widened as he tried to back away, only to get trapped by the rushing traffic on the opposite side of the street.

The first hit slammed into the man's chest with far more force than the kid thought himself capable of, the man jerking back and letting out a loud yell as if someone had taken a bat to him. Lost in his own anger, he swung wildly at the thief, desperate to punish the man who would steal from him. As he raised his fist again, the kid blinked as he noticed a soft glow encase his hand, the sight drawing his attention as he struck again, fist sinking into the man's unguarded stomach. What was tha…

As the thug fell to the ground, the kid did the same, his knees painfully meeting the asphalt. His body screamed for air as his nostrils flared, his mouth open as he tried to inhale as much as possible. No matter how much he took in, his lungs protested his actions as he tried to pick himself back up. Every move he made seemed to drain the life from his body and he didn't understand why. Blinking rapidly, his head lolled on to his shoulders and he found the world shifting sideways, his body slowly tilting. What's going onnnn…

As suddenly as before, the kid's knees gave out on him and he found himself on the floor staring up at the sky, his eyelids feeling heavier and heavier with each passing moment. Before he could even try to force himself up again, the kid's eyes widened with what little strength they had left, shocked by what he was seeing. A silver man floated in the sky, his hands glowing brightly as he stared down at the two of them. However, his attention was suddenly drawn away as something appeared out of thin air, taking up space in his slowly darkening field of vision.

+25 XP

+$375

You have reached Level 1

EXP: 0/250

Health: 55/110

Will: 0/45

Mana: 60/60

Skill Created!

Power Fist Lv 1

Power Sprint Lv 1

Wha… He blinked again, unsure of what he was seeing, flickering between the flying silver man and the blue words in front of him. For a moment, his mind was drawn to a cartoon he remembered from a long time ago. "Val-Yor...?"

Then, everything was dark.