Day Four.
It's a Thursday. 22 March 1989. I never cared to check before.
I feel like I was run over by a small car. Bad, but not awful. I have a goose-egg on the side of my face from where I face-planted on concrete and while my left hand doesn't seem to be broken, it is certainly swelling. Apparently the wool mask was good for something: it kept the blood out of my eyes at the critical moments. Probably didn't notice the rest because I was running on adrenaline at the time.
Lazing in bed until late morning helps the lesser aches and pains in my ribs and shoulder.
Going to a small clinic I get my hand seen to, put into a cast. Which is really going to put a crimp into any trips out in costume… unless I find a nice set of leather gloves. Which I do immediately afterwards. Can't be too careful.
Still, I made the newspapers again with my antics… seems the two seriously injured guys are still kicking and I got some kudos for helping with the fire.
The trip to the bank was a lengthy and boring experience and involved no obvious bank robbers… are my thoughts appearing in bubbles on a page? Was I too obvious and spoilt the plot lines? Am I a fourth wall breaking character?
This is giving me a headache.
At least my money was still where it was supposed to be. I guess Dad really didn't care for what amounted to his own pocket change. At the bare minimum, it should be enough to get the ball rolling on my own little business.
Once I get as far away from this continent as possible. At least in the US I have a few potentially friendly people I can network with on a regional level. Mostly it is because they are people I know I can trust. Out here I know I have only Fleur-de-lis as potential backup in a serious event. I really don't trust any minor league human baseline character to able to help if I'm being overpowered.
God, I'm still thinking of them as characters… like NPCs in a video game. I'm messed up. They are living, breathing (in most cases) people. And I am really out of my depth. I've jumped into this gig with just raw power and nothing else. I'm Superman without growing up in Kansas. I'm Batman without martial arts training. I'm a complete idiot.
I'd blame the hormones, but I think it's simply that I'm just an impulsive kid. As much as I like to think I'm mature, that is as always a question of time and experience. Reincarnation really likes to give sucker-punches you just never see coming.
I guess that close call with death and very nearly undeath has gotten me into an introspective mood.
Cheer up!
Time to fossick through old junk for treasure that is pretending to be garbage.
I guess back to the phone book for me…
A systematic search is probably the best way to go about it. I assumed. The following hours of mild bemusement and fruitless searching was not what I expected. Sure some of the knickknacks were cool, I mean seeing fifty year old postcards of Wonder Woman is interesting as it is historical reality here.
It isn't until I visit the last, of course, that anything interesting appeared. It wasn't magic, but instead a hunk of red kryptonite. Because yes, apparently I am that unlucky. The glassy, red glowing rock was so damn obvious. Someone had polished it into a rounded, ovoid shape and treated it like a glow in the dark trinket.
Just what I need, the kryptonite of temporary randomness. Heck, Superman probably doesn't even know he has a weakness yet. Let alone several. And this stuff, like all kryptonite is prone to being toxic to humans after a lengthy term of exposure.
On the other hand, I can't just leave it there. And I'm deathly afraid of being involved in a Zod type of incident. I mean I'm baseline human, physically. Not even peak. It wouldn't take an effort for a kryptonian to kill me, let alone powerhouses like Darkseid or Doomsday without my shields. They'd be able to just ignore any regular tricks with metal I use too.
It costs all of five Francs. I asked where it came from, but the owner had no clue. It was mixed in with a geological mineral collection.
Sealed into a little lead block with a lot of effort and magnetic field warping I guess I have a new pendant? Plated in nickel steel, to avoid those nasty health problems. It's just common sense.
So yay? I guess. I got an anti-Superman weapon before Lex Luthor.
This is not something I feel proud of.
10:21 AM, 23rd March 1989.
Red umbrella…
There are no umbrellas.
Just people passing. It is a busy street, but no one seems to fit that one little detail. I settle into a cafe to wait. And wait.
Three hours and several cups of coffee later I was getting jumpy… although it was equal parts caffeine and apprehension. I think the pretty waitress found me amusing, suspecting I was waiting for a date since she was frequently passing my table offering encouragement.
Turns out, the umbrella wasn't an object. It was a tattoo. On the arm of a burly guy, the image being a type of burlesque performed by a blonde using said red umbrella.
The waitress who it seemed had been taking a break, looked this way and nearly choked on a cup of tea, when he sat down opposite me. Apparently a thirteen year old kid stands out, on a school day. The guy in question is quite stiff, probably because he knows who I am. He isn't armed, but a big guy is a big guy.
Just to be cautious, I have the cutlery drawer of the cafe ready to descend on him like a biblical plague at the first sign of aggression.
But he simply slides a manilla folder to me under the table and walks away.
Flicking through the pages of documentation within confirms I am (Illegally) Victor Ignatius Magnus, born in… 1974. I'm apparently fifteen years old on paper… whoops.
Meh. Doesn't matter. Makes it harder to trace me back to one Count Vertigo.
Passport looks real, it even has a previous use… apparently I've briefly visited Spain.
Born in a hospital in the south of Paris… parents deceased, a tropical disease and accident claimed my fake mom and dad respectively. I'm legally emancipated too. Nice touch.
I don't know how well these will hold up to scrutiny but they look good. Beyond that how can I really know?
Calling the waitress for a final snack to go, I mess with her a little.
"That'll teach me to look for a date on the internet..." I add aloud. Yes, a dating horror story meme years ahead of schedule! Mission accomplished.
Afterwards I make a visit to the American Embassy and apply for a change of citizenship and immigration. Surprisingly easy to do, all things considered. Perhaps too easy? The Cold War is still active and shouldn't that make this much harder? Am I overthinking this?
Answers come soon enough.
As a tall blonde woman throws an arm around mine at the entrance and hauls me toward a car.
"We meet again, my White Knight." She teases.
"How did you find me Fleur?" I asked.
"Who do you think helped hush the rumours of your visit to the shadowy side of the tracks and ensured you received genuine identification?" She asked. "Those papers are all as genuine as an alias can be. Did I get your age right?"
"Actually I'm thirteen."
"So young, I was convinced you were older." She stated as I was dragged into a small car. "I must also say, I am saddened you wish to leave our beautiful nation so quickly. You could do much good here."
"It is complicated." I finally replied.
"Is this related to your family?" She asked sliding into the driver's side "Because France will do much to protect her heroes."
"Not entirely. I'm most worried about what happens when the next Superman reveals themselves and proves rotten."
She blinked. "You know about the red blur and the giant bat?"
"You know about The Flash and Batman?" I asked surprised.
"I have seen intelligence reports of these beings. The Flash would be an old man by now." She replied. "But you know them better, don't you?"
"Just a little. Not all of it reliable." I admitted. "This is technically the second Flash. The name is a legacy."
"How do you know?"
"Supernatural means. Some low accuracy, long term precognition." I finally said.
"You are evading the truth. But anything you would elaborate on would be appreciated, for the good of the nation if nothing else." Fleur looked at me closely.
"There are many more coming. With them they will bring rivals and enemies and disasters of global significance. Some are old faces from World War Two. Most are new or finally emerging from the depths of the past. The world is going to become a very strange place and I speak as a man who nearly electrocuted a talking Gorilla the other day." I looked at her. "You have seen or heard of some nasty figures of great power? The League of Shadows, an immortal named Savage, Circe the witch of Greek Myth to name ones you may know. They will become active as those who would battle the darkness become visible and successful. The chaos from the conflict is ever expanding; Earth will learn it is not the lone source of life."
"I have seen photos… reports of things that were inhuman." She admitted.
"Heaven and Hell exist as tangible places. Alien life already exists on Earth, some benevolent some malicious. Even places of legend and myth, the lost city of Atlantis and an island of Amazons wait to reveal themselves." I chuckled.
"I will listen to these warnings, but they are outlandish. What next, fairies?" She asked laughing.
"The Fey exist too." I winced. "Soon we will need teams of people like the Superman to face the greater threats of the universe at large. That is why I'm going to America. It is where they will form."
"Ah. I see."