Marvel : the Author

Hello to all ! Hope you're having a good day. Personally, I'm not bad except when I think that a week's already gone by since the start of my vacation. Time sure flies, doesn't it ?

Anyways, let's get the usual song out of the way. You can read ahead and/or other stories on my Patréon page. Search for Cathbel on the website. I'm also interested in hearing what you think of my stories so, don't hesitate to comment, review or leave a stone to show your support. Thanks !

Now, let's talk about… Star Wars ! Specifically, an awesome fanfic I just finished reading on the FanFiction app. Darth Vader : Hero of Naboo. It bears repeating : Awesome ! The synopsis ? What if Darth Vader was sent back to the beginning of the events of the Phantom Menace. The characters feel real, the universe is, I feel, pretty faithful to the original story. Oh, and Darth Vader isn't exactly the big bad guy he is in the first three movie (4,5,6). There are other things but I can't think of them right now… In short ? Go. Read. It !

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Dad and I are sparring in our usual training haunt : my father's study, expanded via magic. Although it's extremely convenient, you also have to be careful about using too much magic as it is like broadcasting signals for those who can pick up on them. We don't want any of my parents' enemies showing up… Let's not even talk about the growing list of my own enemies.

Oh, man ! I have enemies, now… I think as I dodge a left hook targeting my chin and return a straight for my dad's stomach.

Having enemies isn't exactly something I'm comfortable with. In my last life, which is growing more and more like a distant memory these days, I didn't have any… To be honest and even though it kind of stings, I was a nobody. No. Not A nobody. I was nobody. I loved writing and inventing stories, but I got easily discouraged, lazy or simply dropped something because… Well, there were various reasons in my mind but the short of it was that it was too much work. Have I mentioned I was lazy ? Actually, I still am…

There's a reason why 'lighting a fire under someone' is a saying. If I had not been reincarnated in a death world like this, I might not have done any more than I did before. Who am I kidding ? There's no hypothetical about it ! If I'd been reincarnated in a Dysney movie, a children's book or a comedy, no doubt I'd still be procrastinating and dropping projects left and right. I guess it's a blessing that I reincarnated here… ? I can't believe that's what I'm thinking…

Even if I do survive, there'll be thousands, perhaps millions of people who won't. Actually, I might not even survive in the end… What if I go through one of those events that restarts the franchise ? Or I'm from a timeline with a dark ending ?

I shiver and can't dodge my dad's leg sweep. Looking at the ceiling, I frown, images of marvel's heroes turned into zombies and preying on the populace crossing my mind. Now, that's one reality I don't wish to experience.

I get back up and raises my hands once more, getting into position. I return my dad's silent question with a nod and our spar resumes.

Something I've noticed, ever since I started using the body tempering method… It's working much quicker than I thought. Not that I am anywhere near peak human yet, but I'm stronger and sturdier than I was a week ago. Usually, when I get my feet swept up from under me, I get the wind knocked out of me, making it difficult for me to get up and at it again. That's not what happened here, though…

I got up, after only a second pondering. Also, my dad seems to have a harder time against my onslaught. That being said, I'm still feeling pressed because of the thoughts I had… I simply don't think I can get strong enough for all this.

Gradually, I forget myself. Forget my fears, forget my hopes for the future. Even the aches and pains are forgotten. All that's left is my father in front of me and how to take him down. I'm so focused I do not notice I've reverted back to my natural form.

Dodging comes almost naturally in this form. That's what having no bones can do for you : I can contort in any way I can and come back up as swiftly. And since I'm on autopilot right now, my body's moving on instinct. I don't feel the unease and discomfort I usually do when fighting under this guise.

After a while, we both stop and dad points out :

« You mostly complied with the rules of our sparring session but… No magic also means no transforming in the middle of the fight, alright ? Next time, choose a form and stick to it ! »

That's when I realize that I changed for the first time. Needless to say, I'm surprised and say so, and start to think back on the fight. It almost seems to me that Dad had a harder time fighting me by the end of it… A theory I'll have to test out in future sessions. For now though, we're both exhausted. Besides, mom's been calling out to us for a while and with an increasing amount of tension in her voice… I want to hide out, but I'm afraid of how much worse it's going to get if I do. No choice but to weather the storm, then !

* * * * * *

An hour after lunch and a shower, I'm now testing out the changes in my original altered body. Each time I do, my mind commands some ink to write down notes on a notepad. However, since I don't want my - possibly flawed - observation to taint what the ritual is doing to my body, this ink is just used as what it is : ink. And not a medium for my power.

First I take a letter opener. It's a little blunted, but theoretically, you can even stab and cut yourself with a butter knife with enough force applied. The idea here is to test out my skin. Or at least, it would, but… I have no idea how much force I needed before this to puncture my skin.

With a sigh, I comment :

« Oh, well… Let's pay attention from now on! » Then, I pause as I realize. « Yeah… But, how can I measure the force ? »

Dropping the letter opener back into the pen carrier, blade first, with a sigh, I decide to conduct another test.

Using one tentacle, I grab one of the many soda cans I saved just for this. Some are empty, some are not. Some are open, others are still sealed. With a light squeeze, an empty can is crushed. I grab another. But this time, instead of the side, I grab it from the top and bottom. I think it's supposed to be harder to crushed in this way…

Another squeeze, and another crushed can. I'm not satisfied with how it was bent, however…

« Oh, well… »

I grab another empty can with my left hand, dip my pen in my ink and write on it :

« This can is hermetically sealed. »

With a pop, my writing becomes true. Now, I'm not that good in physics, but if I'm not mistaken, it should make my task of crushing this can significantly harder this time. What with no place for the air to go until it's pierced and all… Let's test that theory !