Chapter 1: Chapter 1: A Soulless Awakening
Darkness. It was all the creature had known since its creation. It was a part of it, as much as the amalgamation of beings that formed its essence. It didn't understand kindness, love, or fear—not in the way others might. But it did know instinct. And now, that instinct screamed one thing: **Survive.**
The creature stirred within the confines of the pod, a cold, unfeeling prison of metal and energy. The stasis that had held it for so long was slowly releasing, and with that release came confusion. Where was it? Why was it here? A vague memory, if it could be called that, lingered at the edge of its awareness—something about a mission, a purpose, but it was lost in the haze of its fractured mind.
It was not like the others. Not a pure Kryptonian, not a being of singular origin. Instead, it was a fusion—a monstrous blend of creatures, all gathered and forced into one form. It had no identity, no soul to guide it. It was a tool, created for a purpose it could no longer remember, and now, as it awoke, it felt nothing but the cold void within itself.
Suddenly, the ship shuddered. The creature's pod was jostled as the vessel began its descent through the atmosphere of an unfamiliar planet. It felt the heat of reentry, the rumble of engines as they struggled to maintain control. And then, with a sudden, jarring impact, the pod was thrown violently to one side as the ship crash-landed.
For a moment, there was silence. The creature's senses, dulled by the stasis, slowly began to sharpen. It could hear the creaking of the ship's hull, the hiss of steam escaping from ruptured pipes. And then, for the first time, it opened its eyes.
The pod's door creaked open, revealing a landscape of rock and rubble. A thick fog hung in the air, and the sky was overcast, a dull gray that matched the creature's mood. It emerged cautiously, its movements slow and deliberate as it took in its surroundings. It didn't recognize this place, but something deep within told it that this world was hostile, dangerous.
The ground beneath its feet was unfamiliar, the air too light, too filled with scents it couldn't identify. The creature's instincts screamed for it to retreat, to find a place to hide, to observe. It scanned the area, seeking a place of shelter, a place where it could watch without being seen. Spotting a dense thicket of trees nearby, the creature made its way toward it, moving with surprising speed and agility despite its recent awakening.
The days that followed were a blur of confusion and fear. The creature kept to the shadows, watching the world from a distance, never daring to approach the beings that inhabited this strange planet. It was different from them, and it knew that difference would make it a target.
The creature's nights were restless. In the darkness, its thoughts grew louder, more chaotic. It began to remember fragments of the past, flashes of a world long gone, a world of metal and crystal, of beings like itself but different—whole, complete, with purpose. It remembered flashes of commands, voices that spoke of missions and objectives, but the details were lost in the fog of its fractured mind.
Hunger eventually drove the creature from its hiding place. The small animals it had hunted did little to satisfy its growing need. They were weak, insignificant, nothing like the prey it instinctively knew it could hunt. It craved something more substantial, something that would quench the gnawing void inside.
One night, the creature ventured closer to the human settlement. It moved silently through the shadows, its senses heightened by hunger and desperation. The lights of the small town glowed in the distance, a beacon of warmth and life, but also a reminder of what it lacked. It crept closer, drawn by the smells of food and the sounds of human voices.
As it approached, the creature saw a group of humans leaving a building, their voices loud and full of emotion—joy, excitement, contentment. It recognized these as positive emotions, the kind it had seen in the humans caring for others. The creature stayed hidden, watching them from the darkness. It did not understand why it was drawn to them, why it felt a strange, twisted desire to be a part of their world, even though it knew it never could.
The humans passed by, unaware of the creature lurking just beyond the light. As they moved on, the creature slipped into the building they had left. It was warm inside, filled with the scent of food and the echoes of laughter. The creature's senses were overwhelmed, and for a moment, it stood frozen, unsure of what to do.
It moved cautiously through the room, its eyes scanning for anything that could satisfy its hunger. It found a table laden with food and began to eat, though the taste was bland, unappealing. Still, it ate with a desperation born of need, consuming far more than its body required. Yet, even as it gorged itself, the emptiness within remained.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, and the creature froze. A figure stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the light. It was a man, tall and imposing, with an air of authority that even the creature could sense. The man stepped inside, his eyes narrowing as they adjusted to the dim light. He looked around the room, his gaze finally settling on the creature.
The creature tensed, ready to flee, but something in the man's eyes held it in place. There was a familiarity in his gaze, a cold calculation that mirrored something within the creature itself. The man didn't seem surprised to see it, didn't react with fear or aggression. Instead, he took a step closer, his voice calm and measured.
"You don't belong here," the man said, his voice devoid of emotion. "But you're not without purpose."
The creature tilted its head, trying to understand the man's words. It didn't know what he meant by purpose, but the way he spoke made it seem important. The man continued to approach, slowly, as if not wanting to startle it.
"You're lost," the man said, stopping a few feet away from the creature. "But I can help you. I can give you direction."
The creature remained silent, its eyes locked on the man. It didn't know why, but it felt a strange pull toward him, as if he held the answers it sought. The man extended his hand, not in friendship, but in a gesture of control.
"I am Lionel Luthor," the man said, his voice steady and commanding. "And you are going to help me."
The creature didn't fully understand, but it knew it had no choice. It had been alone, lost, without purpose, but now this man offered it something—what, it wasn't sure, but it was more than it had before. Slowly, hesitantly, the creature took a step forward, accepting Lionel's offer.
In the days that followed, the creature found itself in a place it didn't recognize. Lionel had taken it to an underground facility, a hidden laboratory beneath a grand mansion. The creature was surrounded by machines and equipment it couldn't comprehend, and the people here treated it with a cold detachment. They didn't speak to it, didn't acknowledge it as anything more than a subject for their experiments.
Lionel watched from the shadows, his eyes always on the creature. He ordered tests, experiments that pushed the creature to its limits, probing its abilities, its nature. The creature endured, driven by the same instinct that had kept it alive since it had emerged from the pod. It didn't understand the purpose of these experiments, but it complied, knowing that to resist would mean destruction.
The experiments were brutal. The creature was subjected to pain, stress, and deprivation, all designed to test its limits. It adapted quickly, its body and mind evolving to meet the challenges thrown at it. It grew stronger, faster, more resilient, but with each new test, it felt the void within grow deeper. It was becoming something more, yet the emptiness inside remained, an unfillable void that gnawed at its very being.
Lionel was meticulous in his observations, noting every change, every adaptation. He saw the potential in the creature, saw what it could become, but he also saw the danger. The creature was too powerful, too uncontrollable. It lacked a soul, lacked the humanity that would allow it to be tamed. Lionel realized that his creation was a monster, one that could not be controlled or contained.
And so, he made the decision to abandon it.
One night, as the creature lay in its cell, weak from the latest round of experiments, it heard footsteps approaching. The door creaked open, and Lionel entered, flanked by two guards. He looked at the creature with cold eyes, his expression unreadable.
"It's time for you to go," Lionel said simply, as if dismissing a failed experiment. "You have no place here."
The creature didn't resist as the guards lifted it, dragging it out of the cell and into the dark corridors of the facility. It didn't understand what was happening, didn't comprehend that it was being discarded. All it knew was that the void within it was growing, consuming what little it had left.
The guards drove the creature through the city, to a place it hadn't been before—the Slums of Metropolis. This was a place of darkness, a place where the unwanted and the forgotten were left to fend for themselves. The buildings were crumbling, the streets filled with filth and decay. It was a world away from the sterile laboratory where the creature
had been kept.
The guards stopped in a narrow alley, roughly shoving the creature out of the vehicle. It stumbled, weak and disoriented, as they drove away, leaving it alone in the darkness. The creature looked around, trying to make sense of its surroundings. It was abandoned, discarded like so much refuse. It didn't understand why, but it knew one thing: it was alone again.
The slums were a brutal place, and the creature had to learn quickly if it was to survive. It hid during the day, moving through the shadows at night, searching for food, for shelter, for anything that would keep it alive. The void within it grew, consuming what little hope it had left. It had no purpose, no direction. It was nothing.
Weeks passed, and the creature became a part of the slums, just another lost soul among many. But even here, it was different. The others avoided it, sensing the danger it represented. It had no friends, no allies, only the darkness to keep it company.
But then, one night, as the creature wandered the streets, it encountered someone new. A man, but not like the others. This man exuded a power that the creature recognized immediately—magic. It was an ancient power, one that the creature had encountered before, though it couldn't remember where or when.
The man was tall and imposing, with a face that seemed to hold a thousand secrets. He looked at the creature with interest, as if seeing something valuable in the broken, soulless thing before him. He smiled, a cold, calculating smile.
"You're a fascinating one, aren't you?" the man said, his voice smooth and confident. "So much potential, so much power… and yet, so lost."
The creature didn't respond. It didn't know how to. But something in the man's presence compelled it to stay, to listen.
"I've been looking for something like you," the man continued. "A tool, a weapon… something I can shape, mold into what I need."
The creature felt a flicker of recognition, a memory of Lionel Luthor's cold gaze, of the experiments, the tests. But this man was different. There was a darkness in him, a malevolence that matched something deep within the creature itself.
"My name is Richard Wilkins," the man said, stepping closer. "And I can offer you something no one else can… purpose."
Purpose. The word resonated within the creature, stirring something it hadn't felt in a long time—hope. It didn't understand what Wilkins meant, but the promise of purpose was enough to make it stay, to listen.
Wilkins studied the creature, his eyes gleaming with interest. "But first," he said, "we need to make you whole."
The creature didn't know what he meant, but it followed Wilkins, drawn by the promise of something more.
Wilkins led the creature out of the dark alleys of Metropolis, through a series of backstreets and narrow corridors. It was a journey that took them to the outskirts of the city, where a sleek, black car awaited them. The creature hesitated for a moment, but Wilkins's confident demeanor left no room for doubt. It climbed into the car, feeling a strange sense of finality as the door closed behind it.
The journey was long, and the creature remained silent as the car sped through the night. It watched the landscape change from the urban decay of Metropolis to the vast, empty stretches of road that led out of the city. Hours passed, and the creature's sense of time began to blur. It didn't know where it was being taken, but the thought of a new purpose, a new beginning, kept it from despair.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the car came to a stop in front of a large, unassuming building. It was a place that exuded an air of mystery, with tall iron gates and thick walls that seemed to hold a thousand secrets. Wilkins stepped out of the car, motioning for the creature to follow. The creature obeyed, its curiosity piqued by the strange, foreboding structure.
"This is Sunnydale," Wilkins said as they walked through the gates. "A place where things like you can thrive. A place where power is not just appreciated, but cultivated."
The creature followed Wilkins into the building, through a series of winding corridors and staircases. The deeper they went, the more the atmosphere changed. The air grew colder, the walls seemed to close in, and the darkness became more oppressive. The creature felt a sense of familiarity, as if this place resonated with the dark power that had been a part of its creation.
At last, they arrived in a chamber deep within the building. It was an ancient room, filled with symbols and artifacts that spoke of old magic, of rituals long forgotten by the world above. In the center of the room was a stone altar, and lying upon it was the broken body of a young boy.
"This boy," Wilkins said, his voice filled with a dark reverence, "is your future. Together, you will become something greater than either of you could be alone."
Wilkins began to chant, his voice low and melodic, the words unfamiliar to the creature but filled with power. The room seemed to darken, the shadows growing deeper, more oppressive. The creature felt a pull, a force drawing it toward the boy, toward the altar. It didn't resist, didn't fight. It allowed itself to be drawn in, feeling the power of the magic taking hold.
The process was excruciating. The creature felt itself being torn apart, its essence split and mingled with the boy's. It was a merging, a fusion of two beings into one, but it was more than that. It was the creation of something new, something with the potential to be more than either had been before.
When it was over, the creature—no, the boy—lay on the altar, gasping for breath. He was different now, changed. The void within him was still there, but it was smaller, more manageable. He felt a sense of purpose, of direction, for the first time in his existence.
Richard Wilkins looked down at him, a satisfied smile on his face. "Welcome to your new life, Alexander Harris," he said softly. "Together, we're going to achieve great things."
Alexander Harris, once a soulless creature, once a broken boy, now something more, looked up at Wilkins, feeling a strange mix of emotions. He didn't fully understand what he had become, but he knew one thing: he was no longer alone.
And for the first time, that void within him didn't seem so overwhelming.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
EpicFuzionTales
EpicFuzionTales plot line resembles Awaken Sleeper by CraztDan but divergent in context.
**Update changed that Xander kept his soul. I didn’t realize I kept that he lost his soul and have written a ton of stuff with souled Xander in it and I refuse to rewrite that. but at least this keeps the original story and this one different enough
Weekly Power Status
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