The year was 2034. It didn't take more than twenty to thirty minutes for a large portion of D.C. and the White House to be obliterated. In what remained of the Oval Office stood a 30-year-old man with as flaring an ambition as his hair was red. He had his mother's hair.
He could remember back to a time when he was younger and everything seemed so much simpler than it actually was. Back in his youth, there wasn't as much to think about, after all. He spent a lot of time with his family growing up, except when they weren't around (which was always). He was homeschooled, although he hadn't understood why for the longest time, especially since his brother and sister were sent off to a real school every day. Over time he learned to accept this, as his feeling of being a part of the family was always short and fleeting. He enjoyed the moments his brother would help him hold a football and teach him how to run fast across the backyard of the hot, remote desert sands somewhere in the American Southwest; or at least as fast as he could run before reaching the edge of the half-mile wide dome that encompassed the entire house for as long as he could remember. He could recall his mother and father and how much they loved to read to him fantastic stories about people and places from all over the world. In these moments - these distant, sparse moments - he was happy.
As he matured he started to notice that things were different for him than the rest of the family. It wasn't long after each of these small moments of happiness that his family almost always seemed to completely desert him. At first he was visited by nice men in black suits, who would take care of him and watch over him until his middle school years. At that point his family believed he was old enough to be on his own at the house, which he was barred from leaving due to the high security that could only, to his knowledge, be surpassed by a retinal scan of one of his family members. In these instances of desolate solitude in the house, he had time to let a lonesome misunderstanding of his constant abandonment by his family slowly flare into a pubescent rage. Why did his family act so loving while around him just to abandon him on a regular basis? Why was he locked away in his own house? Did his family not trust him? Would he ever be permitted to live a normal life? To not only hear stories about different places and things but actually live them for himself? What did it mean when his parents' constant assurance of "we love you" wasn't reflected in their treatment of him as no more than a pet?
As changes within the body naturally occur during one's earlier teen years, he started noticing extreme changes of his own. He was growing stronger by the day, almost at a rate that scared him. He didn't know how to handle this newly found strength against a backdrop of years of emerging anger about the forced isolation from the world. His family would often come home from their outings to find the house in ruins. Shouting matches between his parents and himself became a common occurrence. One day, the boy finally lost his patience, his hope, and his belief that he was loved. He lost control.
"Mr. Parr? You wanted to see me?" Jack snapped out of his daydream of the past and looked up to find the face of his newest assistant, a stout man that goes by the name of Grudge. Although Grudge himself was built like a tank, he seemed quite intimidated by his boss. "Yes, that's correct," Jack replied coolly as he strode over to the window of the Oval Office. "I need you to dispose of the bodies. It's time to address the nation about the uh, change of hands," he said with a slight smirk. "Sure boss." Grudge slowly gathered up the hundred or so bodies of the President, secret servicemen, and civilians that had become casualties in Mr. Parr's siege of power. Most of them were smoldered and charred. Grudge piled the majority of them together at the end of the White house that was now mostly smoke and embers before snarling out a cloud of hot acid over the corpses and melting their flesh and bones into nothing more than a puddle before it vaporized into the atmosphere as if it never existed. "Taken care of," he reported back moments later to Jack. "Excellent," he said with a smile. "The whole country knows by now. We must prepare...it's time for a little family reunion."
Jack always knew he was different from his family, but for years he could never figure out how exactly. In his eyes all his family members were unique: his brother could run fast, and his dad was strong, his mother was a multitasking queen, and his sister was scary good at going into hiding when asked to do chores. They were all different. What he couldn't understand was why his own unique aspects of who he was were deemed so much worse. Why was it such a big deal that he could entirely morph his body composition into totally different substances such as indestructible metal or flame ten times hotter the sun? Weren't these just talents? And what was the big deal if he turned into a little devil when he was angry sometimes... Doesn't everybody?
In his youth he began to discover just how much he could do. When his family abandoned him when he was almost twelve, he was sitting in the sandy backyard angrier than ever before at his parents, only to realize that the sand around him was melting into a bright orange, molten fluid. Jack himself was taken aback by this discovery at the time, but it soon opened a door for him to discover all sorts of new abilities that he had no idea he was capable of. He began experimenting when his family would leave him and, between his limitless morphing abilities, levitation, ability to pass through solid objects, and his newly found ability to release energy as heat that's strong enough to melt sand, he gained a better understanding of himself. The only thing he had yet to discover, however, was how to trigger it.
Jack found out soon enough, as his treatment by his parents soon pushed him over the edge. At age fifteen he finally lost control of the emotion attached to all the years of feeling unloved, the void of a meaningful relationship with his family was filled with a relentless rage. This rage fueled what would become the most terrible power to be released upon humanity that the world has ever known.
When the anger took hold, Jack released a blood-curdling roar that lasted for much longer than it seemed his lungs should be capable of. His family backed up in horror as his body began to emit an ominous aura of red and purple and he began to rise off the ground. The heat radiating off his body was equivalent to standing right behind a turbine jet engine as his screams became even more deafening. While floating up into the center of the dome as if he were the Angel of Death, his body began to radiate arcs of plasma, one shooting up followed by another, and the massive human solar flares seemed too strong for his body to handle. As his yells mixed anger with pain, the plasma arcs became larger, stronger, and more lethal. The unprecedented power of the sun on earth soon became too much for the dome that had been keeping him locked away from the outside world his whole life. As the arcs of pure energy beat against the inner surface in all directions it began to crack, each crack glowing just as bright orange as the sand had a couple years prior. His family watched in horror from the protection of the house as he let out one final burst and the dome exploded with tremendous force, shattering down like a deadly rain. Jack looked around and tried to make sense of the situation, only to lock eyes with his horrified family members briefly before flying away to never return.
"What's the plan, boss?" Grudge asked in order to better prepare for the battle ahead. Jack Parr just turned his head and looked at him with sadistic joy. "Do you know how long I've waited for this moment?" Jack asked in return, ignoring the prior question. "I have been enjoying the last fifteen years of my life a free man, living how I want and taking what I want. I'm young and have unlimited power at my fingertips, and the world is mine – mine to shape in my own image. I am a god! After all these years, I finally understand why my own family pretended to love me as long as they did while also keeping me secluded from the outside. Pretending I was part of the family was nothing but a cover-up in order to keep me from recognizing my own power. My family, in congruence with the government, feared my potential…" He turned back toward the window. "…and now they will fear for their lives. I have killed countless people, including the President, and they won't be able to overlook my strength any longer. There is no plan, Grudge. There is only my family's defeat. You leave the rest to me."
Surely enough his father, Mr. Incredible, soon arrived. He was accompanied by his mother, Helen, and his siblings, Violette and Dash. "How nice it is to see you all!" Jack exclaimed facetiously. "It doesn't have to be this way!" his mother said, making one last attempt to bring him back to sanity. Jack brushed it off as if he never had a childhood. "Oh but it does, and it'll be quick and painless – like pulling a hangnail." Immediately the Incredibles jumped into action, the siblings obeying their parent's commands as to what to do. All four of them struggled to keep up with the astounding pace of Jack's morphing and use of wit to fend off each of their individual strengths. Nothing could be done to contain him, and nothing could be done to reverse the damage done to him over his mistreated and unloved first fifteen years of life. The rage within Jack burned on, as did his strength as his family members began to tire out.
He began to focus on his parents, the real cause behind his misery, allowing his siblings to escape with their lives once they realized the grim defeat the future held for the battle, which was the last compassion Jack held for anyone within his twisted soul. Shortly after, Mr. and Mrs. Incredible were finally driven to complete exhaustion, and collapsed next to each other against a burning wall of the White House. Jack walked slowly towards them, enjoying every second that his shadow overcame the remnants of what used to be superheroes, and what used to be his so-called parents. "My little Jack-Jack…" his mother said through tears as she tried one last time to reach out to her lost son. "…We did what we thought was best for you. We knew your power would be too great for you to handle, should you discover it. We did it out of love." she pleaded. Jack leaned in to speak his mind. "You never loved me…you pretended, because you feared me – just like you do now." Mrs. Incredible broke down one more time at her son's piercing misunderstanding. "You're a monster…" Mr. Incredible spoke up through lowered eyes before looking his son in the face. "You will never understand what it means to be an Incredible." Jack smirked quickly as his anger fueled him and he began yet again to glow an ominous reddish purple. "You're right, father…because I'm not incredible…" With one giant blow, a flare of hot, dense plasma exploded forth from Jack and ended his parents' life. "…I am supreme."