What if you could be undefeated, unbeatable, invincible, unstoppable, indomitable, you get it.......seriously fucking overpowered. It might sound attractive of an idea, but trust me it's not. I'm Gary Wilson and I live in a world of superhumans. What people of old called superheroes is now everyone and anyone. Some of us, like me, have one power, others, may have three, four, or even six abilities. Ranging from slightly making you stronger and sturdier to teleportation and time travel. According to the Superelement theory, something I'm studying at college, "Abilities" as we call them are innate, bound to our soul. 

I'm not a dude who wanted power, so that annoying old geezer of a professor must've been wrong. Why the fuck does a normal dude have an undefeatable soul? Anyway, yesterday when coming back from college, I wasn't paying attention and got hit by an armored truck, the whole thing fucking bent, like a tin can of my favorite energy drink. The crew were so panicked.  "OH NO! We killed him" , cried a scrawny Driver A, "WHAT?! who the heck is useless enough to die from a car accident?", Barked a buff macho looking Driver B. 

I got up, stumbling, I groaned, to fake being hurt, I looked at my shirt, it was stained red, perfect. I was attempting to appear shaken which wasn't actually the case since I felt myself becoming a whole lot denser, like how the fuck is that even possible. Looking at my own trembling hands, I realized I had developed another power, as a side effect on undefeated. I screamed, a coarse sound came out : "Not again, FUUUUUUUCK!" Driver B almost fell on his backside, his face contorted by shock, eyes wide and pale looking. He must've been thinking something along the lines of "Again??, Who're ya?! I'm fucked." When I look back at this incident, I feel like his reaction was justified. Hitting a powerful superhuman might have gotten him laid off. I was too focused on how my body changed to even register his reaction. I felt so dense, like steel, but my body also felt light, If I ran normally, I would totally be able to attain my normal speed. It felt unreal, Undefeated often generated useless powers, but that one time, I had developed something major. It was absolutely terrifying. What about my life, can it remain normal? That's definitely something major, I'm gonna be scouted, won't I? So in the upmost glory of a normal college student I ran, I ran like my life depended on it. Luckily, my place was near so I could hide for a while.

I climbed the stairs, each step groaning under my weight like an old man with a bum knee "sorry! sorry!" I muttered while passing in front of my neighbors. I rushed to my door, a tinge of sweat coming down my back and reached the handle. It made a snapping sound, a "crack!" followed by a resounding "clang!", and it fell off, hitting the floor, scratching the wooden pavement inside. It felt incredibly cold, the frigid air, and the dim looking industrial concrete of the mass produced apartment complex only soured my mood more. I couldn't help but swear a little "SHIT! SHIT! FUCK! FUCK!, Fuck my life!!!". At the time, all I could think about was the staggering cost of the repairs and what explication to come up with when I'll declare it on my tax report. Urggg! adios my normal life I guess.... as if! "This is not an excuse to go rambling unholy words, young man." I shifted my head to the right and recognized my neighbor. She was a relatively old looking lady, small like a shrimp and dried up like and old fruit, she admonished me on my behavior and it helped me get a grip on my current reality. Although I was speechless, with my eyes squinted, I still came up with a good reason to declare to the revenue agency and still look normal, I'm a genius. "ma'am, I fear my door handle may have been a bit rusted, please forgive my indecent behavior." She looked at me, suspicious, her blue eyes and metallic gray hair were scanning my face for any trace of lies, after all, she was reputed for disliking youngsters. "Rusted? Really? When sir Ducal invests so much in repairs?" I had a wolfish grin on my face. "yes, I fear sir landlord hasn't made any inspections this year..." she was obviously not convinced nonetheless, she did not pry. "If that's what you say kid, I won't pry. But don't swear anymore or I might send in a word to the Ability monitoring department" I was shocked, what the fuck was that old hag Henderson saying now. I couldn't hold my disbelief and made a face of pure astonishment, eyes wide and mouth agape, the whole "astonished" package. Mrs. Henderson grinned, almost as if she had found a new pass time for her retirement days. "I jest! I jest!" I jest my ass, I really lost my composure back then. For the many years I lived with Mrs. Henderson next door, I've known she was a believer of law and order, someone whose principles clash with someone who's a criminal like me. It has been illegal for many years to not declare my powers. I've exploited a bit of a loophole after all. When Undefeated sensed I was going to be "Defeated" by the registering machine, it invented "Conceal", which conceals itself and Undefeated. the only power that appeared on the measuring device, a kind of tablet that you put your hand on and then displays your powers by the "Element name" I still don't know exactly how this naming thing works but that's how I evaded it. Officially my only power is the mysterious "Restore" but I don't even know what it does. After all, "Naming" only name your abilities, it doesn't give any form of description. After my mental rumination, I tried to use restore on the doorhandle, It did nothing, like always. I suspect that restore might be a passive. So I left it as is and went to bed. 

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