Freshly bathed and clothed in a black skinsuit of ultra-elastic material that he squeezed into through the neck hole Johnny stood waiting in the sterile room of tile and glass. Focusing on the clear barrier he could see the glass was thick enough to hold back the pressure of an ocean at its floor, hold back a hurricane or the vacuum of space.

The skinsuit felt odd, as if nothing was there, conforming to his every nook and cranny while concealing things deemed best hidden by society. On first touch it was clear to anyone who thought about it that it was, perhaps, the least protective material ever conceived of. It didn’t even slow down airflow. Grabbing it, even at the collar where his skin was exposed, was difficult and involved digging fingernails into the skin to get under the stuff. This, the little nerd in glasses had told him, was what a hero would wear into the field, so he felt some pride in getting to wear it.

Looking over at the bald mass of wrinkles beside him, at least one-third head, Johnny received what he believed to be a pleasant smile. Coming from someone whose mouth was wide enough to swallow an average human being whole though it seemed a little menacing He was suddenly aware that his companion had been speaking; voice blending into the background..

“You doing okay, dearie?” She was The Grip and she was very concerned over Johnny’s unfocused demeanor. Nearly as tall as Johnny, she was also nearly as wide as she was tall. Dressed in a pale blue jumpsuit that made her look like a mechanic of cartoonish proportions she placed a very warm, comforting, 2’ wide hand on Johnny’s shoulder and searched for eye contact.

Finally looking straight at her Johnny replied; “Sorry. Yeah, it’s … it’s just a lot.”

“It is, I know. I’ve been in this business for over forty years now. Of course, heh, I didn’t have the advantage of being a ruggedly handsome young man.” Was she flirting?

“And you’re sure you’re a girl?” Johnny blurted out in a moment of supreme inappropriateness.

This got a laugh out of the Grip. “Pretty sure. Too close to a bomb testing ground during World War Two. My skin started growing thicker, then other things got bigger too.” Her tone and cadence did seem feminine but the Grip’s voice was deeper than any man’s. “Could be worse. Ever see a Radium Girl?”

Suddenly self-aware Johnny felt his face flush. “Oh, geez. I’m sorry, that’s, that was rude. I just … I’m just nervous about stuff.”

“Understandable! You’re gonna get evaluated by the standards of the most powerful heroes in creation, hon’. This is big. Real big.” Showing her many, many large teeth Grip gave a big grin, giant blue eyes squeezing shut.

Up in the control room, the main glass section, Revenant sat with Simon. “Y’know, Megadude’s suit looks a lot like my suit.”

“Yes, I know. Same material.” Simon animatedly manipulated the data on his weird, transparent board display. Rev tried his best to focus on the thing.

“How the hell does that thing even work? It’s a computer, right? How are you doing anything without a keyboard?”

Simon curled his lip. “This is a computing slate and I’ve programmed it to recognize shorthand touch-typing no matter where the touch of my finger hits.

“I ain’t seen this in the stores though.”

“And you won’t. Not for at least twenty years. Even then … I don’t think the world will be ready for transparent circuitry. Maybe in the 2030’s…” Simon trailed off before swiping and tapping and the control panel in front of them both lit up, all commands having been entered without the panel ever being touched.

The green, vector-driven display showed almost nothing but acronyms and shortened terms no doubt obvious in meaning to the super-inventor but utterly alien to any onlookers. “Hope it’s in English by then. Sheesh…”

“Hello Jonathan! I hope you’re feeling at home now that your genitals aren’t partially exposed and covered in dried offal.” Simon’s voice reverberated in the test chamber.

“Oh, Simon, that’s just vile! Pay him no mind, deary.” Grip came off as some sort of monstrous grandmother, protective of the boyish wannabe.

But it clearly wasn’t offensive to Johnny, who snorted, struggling to speak at first. “Yeah, uh, it’s cool! I can see all my muscles and stuff. Plus it smells better!” Grip grimaced.

“Wondrous. Now, you know you’re here to undergo a barrage of tests, yes?”

“Oh yeah, I heard tests but, like … what kind? What do I do?”

“Well Jonathan, here’s the trick; I can’t really tell you. First, I need honest reactions, both from you and the instruments that are currently trained on you, measuring every aspect of your being, both biologically and the energy pattern that makes you more than merely a man.”

“But … what do I do?”

“Wellsir, first off … react.” Simon replied, a joyous lilt in his voice.

Suddenly the warm, reassuring hand on his shoulder became a massively powerful constrictor as a second gripped his calf on the same side. Johnny yelped in sudden fear, having never felt such force, not even the Jersey Devil’s bite had squeezed him so hard (though this wasn’t nearly as sharp).

“Sorry, hon, but…” with a grunt Grip heaved Johnny overhead before slamming him hard into the floor. To those inside it felt like the world shook while the control room felt nothing. “...we need to see how you deal with an ambush.” Segueing into a mounted position on Johnny’s back she gripped the top of his head while keeping his leg in hand. Stepping on his back she pulled him up, trying to make his heels and head meet.

“Ngah! Grip! I … mmf, why!?”

“Like I just said; ambush. I’m sure it hurts but that’s what Simon says the tests require.” Johnny tried to fly but succeeded only in sliding along the floor, Grip riding him like a scooter. “Sorry again, hon, but while I got ya like this, I’m the captain, you’re the boat.”

His mind, already established as his weak point, abstracting from the pain of the hold and the fear of his loss of control, Johnny skidded along the floor in a frantic, terror-induced fit that upended the tiles of the floor (which, it turned out, were columns of adjustable height) and elicited whoops and hollers from Grip, who surfed him like a pro.

“Why’d it take me seventy-two years to learn how to properly ride a man!? Whoo-hoo!” she shouted, the old girl having the time of her life.

Up in the control room; “Wow, thirty seconds into the sparring match and Grip’s already making dirty jokes. Gotta be a new record.” Revenant looked over at Simon. “You even paying attention?”

“Oh, I see it all, Sal. The transparent display lets me see them with myriad details overlaid. Megadude’s energy pattern is churning out energy like nothing I’ve ever seen but the source is completely unidentifiable. There’s no inflow, nor even the pull you’d see with someone fueled by sunlight who is cut off from that source. It’s all internal…”

“Right, but, to be clear; big like a nuke but not actually nuclear?”

“Oh, no radiation at all. But there is a circular backflow as unused energy is sucked right back into the source right at the center of gravity. It’s at near zero now, because he’s in a struggle, but I noticed it when he was at rest. The potential energy … remarkable.”

In the test chamber Grip was struggling to maintain balance as Johnny shriekingly plowed into every surface and more and more columns raised up, looking like Giant’s Causeway. “So … when we pull the plug on this? It looks crazy in there.”

“When Grip looks to be in danger or when our newcomer’s clearly had enough. Not before.”

Finally, as they looked on in awe of the pinball-like magic they saw, Grip’s core gave out, she lost control and the pair went airborne. Spiraling out of control they slammed into the barrier protecting the control room, separated, and fell vertically.

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From the inside it was a dull “thunk” but Revenant still reacted with shock. “Holy shit! Simon, they…” and trailed off, looking down at the nerdy super-scientist, unphased, staring at his little device.

“They’re fine, Sal. Please control yourself.” He tapped away at the display, seeming to make a note on a spike on a graph.

“They hit the glass! That doesn’t freak you out?”

“That ‘glass’ as you call it is anything but. It’s a special variant of polycarbonate, nearly ten-feet thick. A literal nuke could go off in there and we’d be fine.” Simon shook his head, smugly.

“Nuke … wait, did you think Megadude was literally nuclear?”

“I had no way of knowing until he was here. He’s not. Let’s be glad for that.”

At that Revenant sputtered, anger building, struggling to find the right words. Down in the chamber Grip had found her feet first. “Here we go” she said, grabbing the stunned youngster up by the neck, forcing him into a kneeling position against the wall. “They tell me you’re maybe the toughest ‘Altered’ person ever discovered. Told me not to hold back.” Gigantic hands doubling up around his neck, head and half his face disappearing beneath the pressure, Johnny whimpered again. “Sorry dearie. If it’s any consolation, I gotta think of the worst men ever born to be able to do this. You’re so innocent but … until we’re done, you’re Hitler to me.”

With a squeak Johnny’s air was cut off. The Grip’s face cinched up, skin that was, perhaps, six inches thick bunching and forming into crags, teeth clenched, she attempted to choke him out and end the encounter. First, he tried again to fly, but, with his neck bent back as it was, his body followed, and both of them slammed into the wall, more moving parts of the chamber unsettling as tiles pushed in around them.

“Damn. Even the Scion would be passing out by now. Do you not need oxygen? Does blood pressure in your brain not matter? Ow!” With a shock Grip realized that her right thumb was being peeled back, painfully. “You’re just full of surprises!”

With a violent swing he thrust Grip’s hand away, but it came back instantly, slamming down on top of his head. Now it was a fight; Johnny felt the betrayal and it made him angry. He felt the blow not at all, slamming a fist into the Grip’s midsection.

With a pained grunt Grip showed obvious surprise. “Okay, you definitely hit harder than I do!” Grasping at the air, trying to block, catch or otherwise defend herself from his blows, she did little more than demonstrate why she was the team’s Brick, absorbing abuse. Charging forward, gripping his neck still but also his chest, Grip pressed him into the wall, hard. “But you showed me already that you can’t grapple for shit!”

Struggling with the Grip’s immense tendon strength, which allowed her to crush things even most Bricks couldn’t touch, Johnny struck at her inner arms repeatedly until the one gripping his head bent. Finally, able to lean forward, he flew into her and she struggled in vain to stop herself sliding backwards.

“Whoa! You’re … so … strong!” and Grip lost her footing, then her hold on Johnny, her heels struck a raised column and she started spiraling end-over-end before slamming into the far wall. A fraction of a second later Johnny slammed into her.

In the control room a tremor was felt. Having been told repeatedly that nothing was wrong Revenant didn’t budge. Having already yelled at Simon for not telling him the potential nuclear risk that didn’t actually exist he was basically checked out. Simon, on the other hand, found his feet. “Oh. Oh no.”

“What? What the hell do you mean oh no?” Revenant floated up, weightless, over the control panel and right up to the transparent window.

“We shouldn’t have felt that.” Scrambling for the microphone he cursed. “Fuck, why didn’t I build audio into this thing?" Tossing the slate aside. "Megadude! Shit!” Fumbling, he mashed the button that turned on the audio connection for the test chamber.

Inside Johnny had floored the Grip, who staggered out from the wall, where some columns had slid out so far that a few were trying automatically to retract but had difficulty, pulling, clicking and falling back out again. “Okay. Okay, kid. I think you…” she looked back. It was clear that Johnny wasn’t hearing. “I think…” and, suddenly, for the first time, the Grip was afraid.

Charging forward, he slammed a fist into Grip’s jaw, the thick, super-tough leather rippled, absorbing the impact, but she staggered. Repeated body shots, interspersed with batting her arms aside as they attempted to hold onto him, led to an uppercut that sent her spiraling to the floor. “Megadude! Stand down! Do you hear me!?” and Johnny’s eyes sprang wide, at last hearing Simon's voice.

Laying on the floor, flesh around her left eye turning purple, the Grip grinned as she pushed up into a seated position. Spitting blood, she checked her teeth.”

“I’m sorry! Oh God, I’m so sorry!” Johnny was beside himself with grief, tearing up in understandable emotion. He'd gone farther than he'd meant to.

Looping an arm around him, Grip attempted a half-hearted hug. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Oh, careful of the ribs.” She got to her feet with his help. “I started to tap out but, boy, you got scary in a hurry. I hesitated when I was talking and took a few extra shots. It happens.”

“No. I, no, you, when I hit you into the wall. I knew you were hurt but, but all I could think about was when I couldn’t breathe.”

“It’s okay, kid. Back in 1963 I got impaled by this guy, he thought he was Odin from those old viking stories, y’know? Now that guy hurt me. You? You just won a sparring match.”

“Oh, okay. You’re sure?” Johnny sniffled.

“Sure. I may have a few ribs that need tendin’ but nothin’ a nap won’t fix.”

The pair shared a chuckle, ending in the Grip coughing and holding her floating ribs. Simon and Revenant floated down, Rev carrying the bespectacled genius. “Hard reset, occupancy aware.” At that, the columns on the wall having difficulty clicked twice, all the columns around them shot out, bringing the problem pieces into alignment, with all pulling in and the other disturbed tiles and columns disappearing into a single, smooth surface again.

Both found their feet then walked over to the sparring partners. “That was nuts! I’ve never seen anybody overwhelm Grip like that before.”

Chuckling nervously, Grip avoided eye contact. “Oh, I don’t know. The Scion’s pretty hard to deal with in a spar, what with that Solar Glare of his.”

“Yeah, but Grip, pure physicality? I thought you were invulnerable to, like, impacts and shit.” Now both Simon and Grip were looking at him incredulously.

“Yes, well, moving on.” Simon began. “It’s true, whatever energy is fueling your powers is off the charts, Jonathan. The Grip here is named such because her tendon strength is the highest ever recorded. She could, if she had the patience, make diamonds with just her hands.

Grip piped up. “Takes too long. Like a day. Did it once; never again. Plus the jerks who certify diamonds say it don’t count and they aren’t worth much uncut. Like, what? Are diamonds valuable or not?” Simon stared daggers at her.

“Yes, well, if we can focus. John, we’ll all be going up into the control room now and you’ll be dealing with our mechanical tests now. These tests will determine the power of your strikes (without wrecking my facility), ability to lift, push, etcetera, and your resistance to all manner of attacks; physical, energy and chemical.”

“Okay.” Johnny replied shakily. “And … what then?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do I get into the Nine then?”

Simon started, glancing at the powerhouse, then at his tablet. “I … I can’t promise that. We are full-up right now but … if your results are exemplary and you maintain emotional control an auxiliary position may be available for you. It is, effectively, the same as a spot in line to join the Nine…

With a joyous grin Johnny took to the air, flying a loop before setting down in the middle of the room. Revenant floated up, grabbed Simon under his arms and turned to Grip. “Sorry lady, I’d take you up if I could–”

“Don’t sweat it, Sal. I know how it is. Nobody ever accused you of being able to carry eight-hundred pounds.”

“Ahem. Uh, yeah. See you up there.” And they took off.

As she left the first test was already unfolding; a vertical press. It could crush a one-foot cube of titanium steel into foil but Johnny stopped its descent, struggled, then pushed it up just as she exited.

Walking to the elevator felt endless. Breathing hurt but it was a kind of hurt she’d felt before. There’s no setting ribs and no normal doctor could wrap her tight enough to make a difference. She’d get the ratchet straps for towing cars out later and that’d do the job. From the sub-basement to the third floor, finally, the elevator had brought her to the control room. Shoulders brushing the sides of the elevator door, she exited, but she wasn’t alone.

There, standing in front of the control room door, was a tall, blond, handsome man in a white skinsuit, yellow sun design running down his chest and back, his head forming the center of said sun. Arms crossed, jaw set, he shook his head before speaking without turning. “Grip. Welcome to the party.”

“S-Stan, hello. How are you feeling?”

“Oh, no, far too familiar Gladys. Codenames only right now. I mean, we’re on the clock, right? Base is so … active. Second I lay down to recover from being uniquely envenomed by a giant dragon man, there’s a tremor. Imagine my surprise seeing some random … kid, having clearly beaten you senseless, helping you up. Perfect timing … I see Sal and Simon touching down. It’s downright … conspiratorial…”

“Now, now Stan, it’s really not. Nobody wanted to bother you. Simon detected a high-powered Altered and wanted to screen him. To, to make sure he was safe out there in the wild.”

“And clearly he’s not.” The Scion's voice was grim.

“Why? But he is.”

“Your left eye is swelling shut, Gladys.” The Solar Scion glared down at Grip. “You’re telling me you’re comfortable with a power of that level being on the loose? If nothing else what if he lost control?”

“We were sparring! He stopped the second the match was over. I promise, he’s just an innocent young man.

But the Scion didn’t seem to hear. “Yes, what if he did lose control? Nosir, not on my watch. Not today…”