Carl was pretty sure he was dreaming. Everything that he looked at in the waiting room had that somewhat surreal feel, while strange ideas and thoughts popped into his head as if they were facts that only made sense while dreaming. But once you wake up, you wonder why it completely made sense that you could only fly around the neighborhood only as long as you could hold your breath. Things like that only make sense in the dream.
So since he was dreaming, he decided to go with the flow and see where this dream was taking him. Looking around, he saw that everyone else had a magazine and pen in hand, so he reached down next to him and grabbed the first magazine he saw.
At first he was just going to pretend he was reading while idly flipping through the pages and watching what would happen around him. But as soon as he opened the first page, he began to read through the magazine he was holding.
DC Comics Jumpchain CYOA
CYOA Written by
Carl squinted at the page. It wasn't signed by an actual name; it looked like a little black and white outline of a quarter moon with a squiggly line coming out of the arc that reminded him of a cat's tail.
Shrugging off the idea that it would have to be one big cat to have a tail the size of the moon, he continued to read.
[text removed]
[text removed]
[text removed]
The lists of superpowers and weaknesses are taken from the DC Wiki, and have been reproduced here for ease of access. Some entries have been removed, added, or modified to better fit this format.
The DC universe is long and storied one, in more ways than one. It's a universe filled with adventure around every corner, not least among them on Earth, an unassuming but cosmically significant planet out of the way of most space territories. Heroes and villains, from the bottom of the Dark Multiverse to the top of the Monitor Sphere, endlessly struggle for justice, for power, and for control over the fate of the very multiverse itself.
You start with 1000 Cape Points (CP). Discounted options are 50% off. Discounts only apply once per purchase. Free options are not mandatory.
[Continuity]
Continuity doesn't change during your time here, since each continuity has a past and a future unconnected to the Crises. If you're in Post-Crisis you'll blow right through 2011 instead of seeing Flashpoint. This changes if you take the relevant scenarios. You can choose your starting date.
Carl yawned lazily as he scanned over the various starting points for continuity. Apparently this was one of those magazines that made little tests or questionnaires to fill out to find out stuff like if the guy and girl were good in their relationship, except it was a fun diversion for those who liked comics instead, creating a character that they could play as if the character was in the world.
Looking around the waiting room at the other people who seemed to have their noses buried in their own magazines, Carl didn't think anyone would care if he filled out the form with the pen that hadn't been in his hand just a moment ago. Everyone else was doing it, so why not him?
'Let's see, the Early Golden Age (eGA) starting date is in 1939.' Carl figured that since no one else was talking, that he should keep his thoughts to himself too and respect the silence. 'The Golden Age (GA) starting date is 1941. Silver and Bronze Ages (SA) starts in 1956. Post-Crisis (PC) begins in 1985. The New 52 (N52) starting date is 2011. Rebirth (Re) re-starting date is 2016.'
'And this is where not having read much comics comes back to bite me, since I don't know which one is better. Well, I've at least heard the term Post Crisis, so I'll pick that one.'
Carl circled that choice in the magazine.
Post-Crisis (PC)
Default Star Date: 1985
New Earth was a world of revised and consolidated backstories, rewritten to make it easier for new readers to jump in and follow the plotlines. Entire planets had their histories turned upside-down, and many characters were left behind entirely. However, this wasn't a true reboot, and for the most part characters' lives continued on the same path they'd been on before and didn't start over from square one, barring prequel-style backstory comics.
In 2006, the Crisis survivors who'd been living in a pocket dimension utopia attempted to bring back their homeworld. They failed, but their actions had grave consequences, bringing 51 other universes into existence alongside New Earth, and Mister Mind would go on to alter the histories of each in his hyperfly form.
This continuity takes place in a single universe, until it becomes a multiverse of 52 universes in 2006.
[Toggles]
Elseworlds: You can go to any DC continuity without a jump, like the DCEU or Last Knight on Earth.
Mainstay Character: By default, your visit here will last for ten years. A long time, but nothing compared to the timescale of many events here. If you want, you can stay as long as you like. But be warned, for as much adventure to be found here, there is as much danger lurking in the shadows. You can optionally set the jump to end at the time of your natural death.
Legacy Character: If you've been to a DC jump before, you can go back to the same continuity for this jump, or have that continuity be an alternate reality present in this multiverse.
Lost in the Sliding Timeline: You can decide which parts of canon you want to use. Ignore what doesn't make sense, events or character moments you think are stupid, or even just jump to a single author's run while ignoring everything before and after it if you really want to.
Carl just shrugged, not really knowing what different options there were as far as different timelines, worlds, and continuities, so he left Elseworlds alone.
He didn't think it was fair that his character would be booted out of the game after only 10 years of game time, so he circled Mainstay Character.
Since this was the first character he had picked, he had no Legacy Character, so he ignored that option.
Carl liked having the option of choosing his own starting time, which he figured Lost in the Sliding Timeline gave him, so he circle that. After thinking about it, he decided to skip past the 1980s and wrote 1996 for the starting time. By then the internet should be much more developed than in the 1980s.
He grinned a bit at that. Of course it didn't make sense to want his character to have the internet, but hey, dream logic. Besides, even though he didn't really know any of the stories, he figured having a bit of veto power against the Dungeon Master would be nice. Very aggravating for the DM, but whatever. The DM shouldn't be giving a power to the Player if they don't want it used against them.
[Multiverse Alignment]
Light Multiverse
You were born in one of the worlds of the positive multiverse. As you grew up, you saw heroes triumphing over villains, leading the world into idealism and hope. You carry this message with you and fight for the peace and safety of all good worlds. Although there may be a cost, heroes have the advantage and will always triumph in the end.
Dark Multiverse
You arose from one of the worlds of the Dark Multiverse, a failed creation damned to sink and disintegrate, annihilating everything and everyone within. Dark Multiverse worlds are created from the fears and mistakes of those above, and due to their instability they degrade and collapse when the person they originated from overcomes their struggles. Pain is inevitable here, and the villains have the advantage and will always come out on top in the end. If your world is destroyed before your time here ends, the Batman Who Laughs will arrive and offer you a position as one of his Dark Knights.
Carl shook his head in disgust at the Dark Multiverse and quickly circled the Light Multiverse several times. No way was he dealing with an evil universe in his role play.
The next section had to do with choosing what race his character would be.
'Hmm. A lot of options here.' Carl thought when an idea came to mind. He had just read a story online by Dogbertcaroll about Xander from the BtVS world choosing to dress for Halloween as a cross between Lobo the Czanian and a Bizarro-esque dimensionally fractured clone of Superboy.
The super healing ability of Lobo fixed the issues with being a Bizarro dimensionally fractured clone, and he ended up being an overpowered being with practically none of the weaknesses of a normal Kryptonian.
Even though blue kryptonite would cause his Kryptonian-esque powers to be weakened to that of a regular man, he still had plenty of strength and abilities from his Czarnian half. And since Lobo was able to go toe to toe with Superman, being that strong in his weakened state was nothing to sneeze at.
So Carl circled the Hybrid option at the very bottom of the list.
Hybrid
Variable CP
You're a member of two races. Your parents must have quite the story. You have the powers of both at half strength, and pay half the cost of both racial prices.
He figured that the overpowered healing ability of the Czarnian race would fix a lot of that, including the half strength nerf. After all, this was a dream, and he had been practicing his lucid dreaming, so he got to decide things like that in a dream. Besides which, he got veto power over the DM with that one toggle. So he figured he could veto that "half strength" rot. As such he crossed out the "half" and scribbled in "full".
Czarnian
800 CP
Homeworld: None; you start off wandering through space. One of the last survivors of the same race as Lobo, somehow you survived the genocide he committed against his own people. Whether you can survive further will be up to you.
Carl then began editing the Kryptonian section.
Kryptonian Bizarro Clone of a Kryptonian
PC – 1000 CP: A cold and sterile race that originated on the planet Krypton, the Kryptonians neglected the outside worlds and turned inwards, advancing their knowledge of science to an incredible degree even as their society stagnated. This proved to be their downfall, as reactions within the planet's core converted it into the radioactive kryptonite before detonating and killing all but a few, with almost none off-world at the time to survive.
Kryptonians are identical to humans under the light of a red sun, such as their home star of Rao, but when exposed to yellow light their cells store the energy and use it to great effect.
You may take Linguist (Kryptonian) for free and up to 8th Level Intellect at a discount.
Carl made his little adjustment, smirking at how he was gaming the system. After all, Superboy was supposedly weaker than Superman due to being only half Kryptonian. But his character was going to be a clone of a full Kryptonian. He chuckled a bit at that, since with his change he wouldn't be the love hate child of Lex Luthor and Superman.
After looking one more time at the list of skills and abilities a little further down, Carl decided that he may as well go ahead and grab one more race to throw in the mix since Magical Blood was 200 CP and the race he was throwing in was only 100 CP, which would give him Magical Blood for free.
That would give his character access to learning magic. And this was the DC universe where magic was a thing. And while Kryptonians weren't more vulnerable to magic than normal humans, they didn't have any special protections against it. So he was just shoring up his weaknesses a bit.
Atlantean
100 CP
Homeworld: Earth
Inhabitants of Atlantis. Mildly superhuman but on land they tire out faster.
You can take Magical Blood for free.
The next section was History, and Carl chose clone, since that was the whole reason he was able to mix all those races together for his character.
Clone
Modifier to Heritage
You're a clone of another person, possibly multiple people. You share their appearance and genetics, although powers and other traits will depend on what you purchase below. You've recently escaped containment. Or, take 400 CP in exchange for still being held captive by the people who first created you, unable to escape just yet without great difficulty and being used for testing and experimentation.
Carl went ahead and circled the option to take the 400 CP, since his race choices made him go into the red, point wise. Moving on to the next section, he had to choose his Family life. Seeing the chance for more points, he circled Broken Home and Orphaned for 500 more CP.
Broken Home
+200 CP
They say every functional family looks the same, but every dysfunctional family is broken in its own unique way. However it happened, your family life was cold and hard, and every day was a struggle. Maybe you found out your father was secretly a supervillain, and he reacted violently when you refused to follow in his footsteps. Or perhaps your older brother turned you in to the police after you came to him for shelter, betraying you and turning his back on you in your time of need.
You either have painful memories of your childhood that you'll have to deal with sooner or later (and you will have to deal with your past in some way or another, whether you do it on your own terms or try to run until it catches up with you), or members of your close family are actively hostile to you.
Carl chuckled. As a clone being experimented on in a lab, that would definitely count as a Broken Home.
Orphaned
+300 CP, can be taken with Broken Home
You had a great relationship with your family, and you all loved each other more than anything. Then your parents were killed, right in front of your very eyes. After this event you were either raised in an orphanage, by a responsible older sibling, or by a family friend.
You never fully recovered from the trauma, and while you can live a normal life the memories have haunted you ever since. Expect to have nightmares, as well as issues with raising a family of your own. If this is taken with Broken Home, one of your family members directly caused the death of the others, the ones who truly loved you, and will resurface sooner or later with plans for you.
Carl figured that it wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility that one of the scientists that had been responsible for cloning him might show sympathy and caring for their creation. And then, just because there are some seriously screwed up villain assholes, another scientist could have had them killed for planning to help free their property. Yup, totally messed up, but he needed the points.
The next section was Career. The only choice that made sense to him was Adolescent. He certainly wasn't starting as Law Enforcement, Superhero, Criminal, or Supervillain when he was a clone.
Adolescent
0 CP
You've been here for a while, but not that long. Your age is 1d8+10, and you're still growing up with the family you chose above. You have some responsibilities, but you're still a kid. You aren't expected to do much more than listen to your guardians and prepare for the rest of your life. You have some friends you get along with well, but none of the bonds forged in fire many superheroes enjoy.
Carl saw an eight sided dice appear next to him on the coffee table and didn't think it was odd at all in his dream. He rolled a 4, which made him a 14 year old looking clone. As a clone in a lab, he was definitely expected to listen to his "guardians". And he no doubt had imaginary friends that helped him through his day.
The next section was a selection for Teams. Carl shrugged, since he figured he might get on a team after his character escaped the lab. So he chose the Teen Titans, figuring that since he was a teen it would be appropriate.
The next section was Natural Abilities. Since the Kryptonian race gave him up to 8th level intellect at a discount, he wrote that down which ended up being 400 CP.
Intelligence
The levels of intellect refer to how many distinct trains of sophisticated thought a being can hold simultaneously, each working together to exponentially compound their ability to understand patterns and solve problems.
By default you start as a 0th level intellect, the human baseline. You can purchase more levels for 100 CP each. For reference, the entire 21st Century human population together is a 6th level, Batman is a 6th-8th level, Lex Luthor is a 9th-11th level, and Brainiac is a 12th level.
If you take at least 1st level, you get three specializations free and can pay 25 CP for more. Specializations are fields of learning you're particularly talented in and enjoy doing, progressing much faster in them than others.
Because this was a DC universe, and he wanted to shore up his magic weakness, Carl scribbled down next to it Specialization: Magic.
Thinking a bit, he figured that he wanted his next one to be Specialization: Technology. He didn't know if a Dungeon Master would allow such a broad category, but hey. He should at least try. For his third Specialization he figured he would write down Specialization: Combat. This was a world where he was sure his character would have to fight, if only to escape the lab.
He then circled the Magical Blood ability that he should get for free from having Atlantean in the clone mix.
Magical Blood
200 0 CP
You possess the ability to wield direct magic. Either because you're a pure Homo Magus or another magical race, a direct descendant of one, you grafted their DNA into yours, you stole their powers in a magical ritual, etc.
Carl nodded at the next item down the list, which was Emotional Capacity, which governed his character's willpower. That would be useful against any of those magicians or any psionists running around.
These use willpower as the default, as that's the most useful in isolation. For other emotions use the analogous amount.
Legendary
400 CP
Talk about stubborn. You have as much willpower as the average Green Lantern, enough to overpower the combined will of your home planet. Your willpower is functionally limitless, short of using a Lantern Ring and pushing to your limit.
You may take a Power Ring for free.
Having that strong of an Emotional Capacity would help his character get over their shitty back story and help deal with whatever his character would face. And getting a Power Ring for free was pretty cool. Naturally he chose the Green Lantern Ring, since that was the only color ring he was even passingly familiar with.
Flipping to the next page of the magazine, he saw that it was the Skills list.
Skill Level
Any skill or field of experience. Skills related to your career above Basic level are discounted for adults.
Basic
25 CP
Enough to complete your task competently.
Proficient
50 CP
A cut above the rest. You'll quickly rise through the ranks of your career.
Expert
100 CP
As far as most people can go, but not quite the ceiling. Most others are faceless mooks to you, but that's all you are to the real titans. Equivalent of a Robin or an average League of Assassins member.
Master
200 CP
One of the best in the world. When someone needs help, when they've got a problem that seems all but impossible, you're the one they come to. Equivalent of Batman, Lex Luthor, or Zatanna.
Legendary
400 CP
The best, hands down. You're the gold standard in your field, and all others are judged by how closely they come to you. Equivalent of Lady Shiva, Brainiac, or Timothy Hunter.
Looking at the Skills section, Carl realized that with enough points he could buy his character instant mastery in any one field of experience. That was a heady temptation. But the point cost alone made him shy away from the idea of going deeper into CP debt; not to mention that it wouldn't really make sense for his back story.
Even if the scientists that created his clone character had the level of mastery of a skill to be able to download the information to his clone brain, why would they? The crazy scientists that do these clone experiments always want control over the clone for whatever reason. They want a virtual slave. So giving away that level of skill and knowledge would be the last thing they would do, since they would be afraid of their creation breaking his chains and escaping.
Aside from that, his character was going to be an 8th level intellect. And an adolescent. He wouldn't really be expected to pull heavy duties in any career for a while, so he would have plenty of time to study. And due to the tier his intellect was in, he would be able to attain Master status in anything he studied in time.
He knew enough about Batman, Lex Luthor, and Zatanna to know that that level of mastery in any field of experience was very respectable. And added in with his overpowered heritage of a Bizarro Kryptonian / Czarnian / Atlantean, well…Carl had already stacked the deck quite high on his side.
So Carl skipped the rest of the Skills section and flipped the magazine's page to the next.
[Plot Armor]
World of Cardboard, Men of Steel
0 CP for the jump, 200 CP to keep, discounted for Light Multiverse Inhabitants.
You don't cause any unintended injuries with your powers. Hug your partner without crushing them and knock out a criminal without causing brain damage. You can be sure that sticking a grenade into the mouth of an invulnerable supervillain won't be too much for his durability to handle and explode his head, merely enough to knock him out, and that the warsuit deflecting the policemen's bullets is strong enough to take your punch rather than using micropoint force-fields that cause the person inside to crumple like a paper bag when you hit them with anything larger than a bullet. You can also control your emotions enough that you won't do something you'd regret a moment later. Whether you'll do something that you'll regret the next day is another matter, though.
Carl figured spending 100 CP to make that permanent was a decent deal, just so that his character didn't accidentally roll a 1 and kill his own teammates.
Yawning, he looked around once more and saw that the waiting room was empty of the people that were there earlier. He frowned a bit. Come to think of it, what was he waiting around for? Even if this was a dream, it was kind of boring to just be filling out some role playing forms from a magazine.
Seeing an open door at the end of the room, Carl got up and moseyed on over to see what was on the other side of the door. The moment he stepped through the opening, everything faded to black.
Unknown to him, the magazine that he had left behind on his chair flipped open once more. There was a large red number -900 CP on the first page. Pages began flipping quickly, pausing at one section of the Plot Armor section.
Earthling Whisperer
100 CP, free for aliens
Contrary to popular belief, most extraterrestrial races across the universe don't all speak English, and communicating with alien cultures can be tricky when such a language barrier is in the way. You pick up new languages extremely quickly, and your overall communications skills are improved. You could be speaking a language fluently after a few weeks of watching people speaking it, and can get your ideas across with great clarity. Even if you don't yet speak someone's language you can communicate simple concepts by universal signals like gestures and facial expressions.
Apparently it was decided that since Carl was 2/3 alien, he qualified for the item, and it was highlighted, with the CP cost going to 0.
Pages began flipping quickly once more, pausing at the Superpowers section. The 600 CP that was set aside for choosing superpowers was absorbed by the CP debt that Carl had left behind, to leave his total at -300 CP.
The pages then began flipping onward swiftly, until it arrived at the Drawback section. The first +300 CP drawback was highlighted, cancelling out Carl's CP debt.
More Useless than Aquaman
+300 CP
It doesn't matter how powerful you are, people just think you're stupid. Aquaman could flood half the world and invade the other half with giant sea monsters, and commands an army versed in ancient warfare and magic. Does he get any respect?
"lol, he just talks to fish."
This can be mitigated somewhat, but you'll have to be a real badass. I'm talking growing a huge beard, never wearing a shirt, and losing a hand in a fight and then replacing it with a hook.
The magazine then flipped closed with a bang that reverberated through reality, more felt than heard; completely unsuited to the simple visual of a magazine flipping closed.
The next time he became aware, Carl realized there was something really wrong with him. His thoughts and mind felt like it was split into several different directions, some of his thoughts seemed to be turning inward and fighting him, causing him to feel completely confused and befuddled.
His body was completely unresponsive, and he was simply experiencing the sensations of intense pain, and his body parts being in the wrong place and moving in ways they shouldn't.
He finally realized that his eyes were open, and he was seeing something in front of him, but it was far too confusing to try to work out what he was seeing at first. He tried closing his eyes, but he was still able to see the horrible kaleidoscope of confusing jumbled images. And worse, he continued to feel all that pain.
He had no idea how long it went on. It felt like it was nearly an eternity, living through the pain. His thoughts unable to coalesce into a coherent whole.
It just went on, and on. Pain and confusion, unending.
And then, one day, something changed.
At the bottom corner of his vision he saw a pair of kind eyes peering in at him through what looked like a pool of water. But that blended in just above with an arm, connected to a leg, which waved a female torso dressed in a lab coat on top of it. To the either side of him he saw a hand pressing into buttons on the walls. And everything he was seeing was soaked in a pool of water.
He then heard voices speaking, slightly muffled through the water. And he actually understood them.
"What do you think you're doing here, Doctor?" A sharp and angry voice demanded. The kind eyes spun around, and he saw the long brown hair of a woman. Hovering just past her hair, Carl saw a man's bearded face hovering, glaring. His gaze alternated between the hovering female head and directed directly at Carl's eyes.
"I'm doing what I should, Director. Despite what you think, he's alive and deserves the chance to be healthy and live." A strong female voice stated calmly.
"It is property, Doctor." The sharp retort came with the wagging of the beard. "CADMUS' property. And you were ordered to dispose of it. You know what the consequences of betrayal are."
Carl realized that something was flowing through his body. It was soothing in a strange way, even though it alternately felt hot and cold. But in its wake, his body felt like it was coming together in a way that finally made sense. Like it was putting his body back to the way it should be, instead of this jumbled mess that he awoke to.
Suddenly his fractured vision snapped into place properly. And he finally comprehended what he was seeing.
He was floating naked in a large glass tube that was full of some kind of fluid. It wasn't water, exactly, he could taste that much. But he was able to breathe the liquid just fine, for whatever reason.
Just outside the glass tube, he saw a woman with her back to him, being confronted by a brown bearded man with two security guards flanking him. The two security guards were aiming their guns at the woman.
Thoughts about his situation flashed through his mind quickly. It didn't take him long to realize that he was some kind of experiment. And added on with that strange dream of a waiting room where Carl had filled out some form for this exact scenario, he could only conclude that he really was some kind of clone now in the DC universe.
How very short-sighted of him not to take that dream seriously and come up with a better back story for himself. Because now he was stuck in a tricky situation, trapped and slated for "disposal".
And he really appreciated whatever that woman doctor had done to fix what was wrong with him. It was probably Czarnian blood or DNA or whatever that she had injected into him that fixed him, based on what he had chosen on that character sheet.
It can't have been easy to get a hold of a sample of Czarnian blood, not when Lobo could supposedly regenerate his whole body from a single drop of blood. So he had no doubt that CADMUS would be furious at the "waste" of resources using it on a failed clone would have been, in their eyes.
"I know what I've done." The woman stated, still in that calm tone of voice that sounded somewhat dull to Carl's ears.
The bearded man merely wordlessly scoffed and ordered the guards to, "Do it."
Not even a second later, the two guards fired their rifles at the woman. Her body jerked at the impact. Carl watched helplessly, eyes widening as he saw holes blossom in the doctor's back. She wavered on her feet for a moment while red began soaking into her white coat.
Carl then noticed that the rounds from the rifles must have gone right through her and impacted on the glass of the container he was in. There were cracks in the glass, and the fluid began leaking out.
The bearded director noticed at that time that Carl's eyes were open and tracking what was going on around him. His eyes narrowed while glaring at Carl.
"She must have injected something to help it recover. Not good. He's not gone through indoctrination. Kill it before it escapes."
The female doctor had collapsed face down on the floor by this point, and the guards turned their rifles Carl's way, causing his adrenaline to spike.
Even though he knew he should be some kind of Bizarro Kryptonian clone with a Czarnian's healing ability by this point, he hadn't had any chance to test those abilities. Up until just a few minutes ago he was still a normal human, so having guns pointed at him was quite a fearful experience.
But he didn't get a chance to do anything before the guards began firing at him. His arms reflexively shot up to cover his face, and he accidentally smashed into the glass, breaking it further as the bullets were smashing into the glass from the outside.
It was too much for the glass, and it broke apart, spilling the fluid out in a gushing rush that caused Carl to flop out and down to the ground; the rushing water staggered the three men's stance when it washed against their legs. Thankfully it meant they momentarily paused their shooting, giving Carl a chance to think about what he should do.
Seeing a nice big shard of glass right next to him, he grabbed it and scrambled to his feet. Desperate to get to the guards before they could open fire on him again, he dashed forward. It was only a fraction of a second before he reached the guard, but it felt like time was stretching out. He could see everything that was happening in front of him as if it was slow motion.
The guard's eyes began widening as he slowly, ever so slowly, began pulling his rifle back into firing position.
Before the guard had moved an inch, Carl was there. He pushed the shard of glass forward, aiming at the man's neck. With a sickening squelching sound, the glass slipped into the man's neck. Carl hadn't held back, so his hand continued moving forward, to smash into the man's neck, throwing him back while he heard a sickening crunching sound from the man's neck.
The shard of glass had broken off in the first guard's neck under the force of Carl's clenched hand, but he figured after his first attack that he didn't need it anymore to deal with the other two men, based on the way the first guard had flown back. Obviously he had some super strength and speed.
He turned toward the next guard, who was still desperately pulling his rifle around. Without any further thought, Carl pulled his arm back into punching position as he stepped forward, then let the punch fly at the next guard's neck.
Another sickening crunching sound echoed in Carl's ears as the guard flew backwards.
Carl felt quite nauseous at what he was doing, but he felt like it was necessary. These men had killed a good woman who was only trying to help him, right in front of him. The director had ordered his own death. This was a matter of life and death, and he wasn't going to hold back until he was safe again.
Spinning around, he sweep kicked out at the knee of the director, intending to cripple him and demand answers from him. His kick connected just where he wanted, cracking and bending the doctor's knee sideways in a way it shouldn't bend. But the kick followed through just as he had been taught to kick through what he was aiming at, in what was becoming apparent was his previous life.
Back when he was taught to follow through in his kicks and punches, he had been a regular human. So it was necessary to maximize the force of the kick or punch by aiming beyond what you were punching or kicking. Otherwise you would pull the punch or kick before the full force was imparted, making the hit too weak to do anything.
But now he was a crazy mix of Bizarro Kryptonian, Czarnian, and Atlantean. And his kicks were much more powerful.
His kick continued and smashed into the director's other leg, also breaking it in a most sickening manner. The director's body followed the force of the kick and his legs shot off upward and to the side, which caused his upper body to sharply impact the floor. And since he hadn't been able to brace himself at all, his head smashed into the floor with permanent results.
Carl paused for a moment, gasping in deep breaths of air as he surveyed his surroundings. All three men were on the ground, completely still. He finally began calming down from the adrenaline spike.
He was still in the middle of hostile territory, so he didn't completely calm down. But he was at least able to think through his next actions and try to plan a way to escape. First up was to check the three men to see if they could be a threat to him anymore, unlikely as that seemed.
Kneeling at the director's side, Carl checked for a pulse and found none. Oh well, he wasn't going to mourn the loss of such an uncaring and evil man.
The door to the room was still closed, and judging by how everyone seemed to know how this evil organization dealt with betrayal, Carl didn't expect anyone to come running to see what was happening, even with the sound of gunfire. They would probably be keeping their heads down and hoping that they wouldn't be swept up in the "clean up".
He was pretty sure he had killed the two guards already, but he quickly checked to be sure he wouldn't be surprised while he tried to figure things out. Thankfully they were already dead, so he wouldn't have to debate with himself about whether to just tie them up or finish them off.
Carl heard a faint sound behind him. Realizing the female doctor was still barely alive, he stood up and grabbed the first aid kit that he had seen on the wall near the door and moved to the doctor's side. He carefully turned her over onto her back, laying her out straight.
Just as he was opening the first aid kit to try to staunch the bullet wounds, her eyes fluttered open.
"Just stay still while I try to stop the bleeding." Carl muttered at her when she tried to feebly lift her head.
"No." She whispered. "I'm afraid I'm fading too fast. It's only what I deserve, really, for working for this pit of vipers for so long because I was afraid to stop. Afraid of their threats."
Carl frowned and thought about trying to do something to stop the bleeding anyway, despite what she said. But looking at her chest, his vision suddenly began becoming clearer, and he saw down into her torso. He could see that her heart was nicked, and blood was pooling up in her body.
With that, his vision returned to normal and he sighed in resignation. Even if he could plug up the entry and exit wounds, she would die long before he could get her medical help. He was still in the middle of a no doubt hidden lab of science of questionable morals, so the amount of time it would take to get her to a surgery team was…too long to save her.
The director had definitely been evil. But judging by the doctor's few words, she had come into the organization with lofty ideals which had been worn down from fear of the consequences. And when it became too much for her to handle anymore, when she couldn't stand her guilty conscience anymore, she had done something about it that she no doubt knew meant her death.
He wished he had more time to get to know her.
"What's your name?" Carl whispered as he took one of her hands in his own and began smoothing back her hair from her forehead, trying to comfort her as best as he could.
"Caroline." She whispered faintly. "I'm just glad to see…"
And then she simply stopped.
Her eyes stared blankly back at Carl, her mouth tilted up slightly at the corners, and a look of peace was on her face.
Reaching out, Carl did the thing that they always did in the movies and gently closed her eyes.
He then folded her hands across her chest and stood up. Only then did he realize that tears were leaking down his face and a stuffiness was lodged in his chest.
Taking a deep breath while looking around the room, Carl tried to get himself together. He still had to escape this damned place.
Looking down at his naked and pale white body, he shook his head. "And get some clothes."
Looking at the three men in the room, he realized that the shortest of the guards that was about his height was the one he had stabbed with the shard of glass. He was still only 14 physically, according to that document, so it was good that he was apparently a big for his age 14 year old so that he could dress in the guard's uniform.
And while the uniform was going to be sticky with blood, at least it was black in color, so it shouldn't show up too much while he was making his escape.
A few minutes later he had dressed in the military style cargo pants, boots, undershirt, and coat, with a hat tugged down low on his head. He had decided that going commando was ideal, since he was not going to strip a dead man of his underwear and put it on.
Checking the pockets, he found a number of items. Car and house keys, a sci-fi book, some mints, a Swiss-army pocket knife, and the man's wallet. In the wallet he found six 20 dollar bills and a few ones, the man's driver's license, and various cards. He wasn't surprised that the guard didn't have a cell phone on him at work, if they existed at all in this time.
He did work in a super secret lab. There was no way his employers would want their workers taking selfies and posting them on social media while they were working on such things, or while murdering their employees for having a conscience and a backbone.
"Hmm." Carl looked at the credit cards, membership cards, and the house address on his license. He then thought of the keys in his pocket. "I dunno if that's a smart idea, or a dumb one, to try to steal the man's money or loot his house. I've no idea if he's even got a family that would be at his house."
But assuming he could get out relatively quietly and soon, he wanted to be able to have some time to figure things out before he contacted any of the super hero groups of this world.
"It's really not paranoia when a secret lab full of evil scientists want to clone you." Carl muttered, and got himself moving.
He finished dressing by putting on the guard's wide belt that had a pistol in a holster, a tazer, handcuffs, mace, and extra magazines. He then switched the rifle's magazine so he had a full load, and slung it over his shoulder by the straps already there.
Carl quickly looted the other guard and the director, gaining another 273 dollars in cash, and a couple more wallets. He stowed the lock knife and multitool that he found on the other guard, grabbed the spare magazines of ammo, and was ready to go. He had what he assumed were the guard and director's security key cards in his breast pocket, ready at hand to be used to open doors.
Looking around once more before he left, he paused when he saw the computers sitting in the corner. With a shrug as if to say, 'why not', Carl moved over and checked to see if he could get into the computer to maybe download incriminating files that CADMUS would no doubt prefer be destroyed.
Unfortunately, the computer was locked with a password. Looking at the setup, he realized that it was a normal looking tower setup, not some crazy advanced alien tech. So he powered down the computer and soon had the hard drive stowed away in one of his cargo pockets.
Looking down at Caroline for a long moment, Carl wished he could do something to help her. At the very least take her out of this place that killed her so the people wouldn't destroy her body to get rid of the evidence. But if he tried to carry her out, he would no doubt be caught and shot at. And he didn't want her body to get shot up more in the crossfire.
And if he was being completely honest with himself, he didn't want to decrease his chances of escaping. As much as he tried to tell himself it was to "honor" her sacrifice for him, and as loathe as he was to admit it, he really didn't want to risk his questionable freedom by taking her out of here in so obvious a manner. If there was a way to get her out without risking himself, he would take it. But it just didn't seem feasible.
With a sad sigh, Carl turned away. Cracking open the door to check if the hallway was clear, he was flabbergasted and somewhat pleased to see a gurney with a body bag on it sitting in the hallway, since it gave him the thing he had been wishing for just a moment ago. It had to have been the director and his guards that brought it here, probably to dispose of Caroline's body.
If Caroline had brought it along with her under the guise of smuggling him out that way, she would have probably brought it into the room with her. But the director probably already planned to kill her and dispose of her, so he left it in the hallway to have his confrontation with her being unaware of his intentions.
His own body, even if it was "terminated", would have no doubt been sent to the lab for study, rather than put in a body bag to be disposed of.
Carl thought about the opportunity that was given him here. It could maybe work. After quickly moving the bodies so they weren't in line of sight of the door, he pulled the gurney in and shut the door. He gently placed Caroline in the body bag and on the gurney, ready to leave the moment he was ready.
He then had an idea and took a moment to think back to the feeling when his x-ray sight had been used to see inside Caroline's body and spot her injuries. Focusing on that feeling, he began looking around the secret lab complex, trying to map out a route for him to escape by.
It was a bit difficult at first, kind of like those Magic Eye 3D pictures. The way he had to focus to "see" a certain distance so he could follow the passageway instead of seeing straight through everything was quite peculiar, but he was getting the hang of it quickly.
After several minutes, he had the route to the exit. It was quite strange that they appeared to be located under a section of a city. He had expected the lab to be out in the middle of nowhere. But maybe it was easier to hide their power usage in the middle of an industrial section of the city. There appeared to be several factories in the immediate vicinity.
Without any more pause, Carl wheeled the gurney out and closed up the door behind him. He set a normal walking pace, attempting to affect an air of boredom that he imagined a guard in such a facility would have. It couldn't have been the first time the guards had gunned down a defenseless scientist, not with how they hadn't even paused after being given the order.
Yet another thing to help him not feel guilty for killing those human scum.
As Carl was making his way down the hallways, he became aware of just how easy it was for him to hear the many sounds around him. The faint squeaking of the gurney's wheels against the floor. The sounds of movement and breathing in several of the rooms he passed.
He shook his head to break his concentration when he began hearing what sounded like heart beats. He didn't need the distraction of his senses right at that moment when he had to concentrate on his escape.
There were two exits that Carl had found in his visual search. There might be more bolt-holes for all he knew, but he was working under something of a time limit, so he didn't continue searching. One of them appeared to be the "front" entrance for employees. The other lead to a loading dock. And just before getting to the loading dock, there was an incinerator off to the side.
So in order to not appear unusual by bringing Caroline's body out the front entrance, he was heading for the loading dock. Luckily there was a connection between the loading dock and the parking structure that he could only assume that the guard's and the director had parked their cars at.
The employees of this secret lab must have known something was going to happen today, but no one was wandering around. It was easier to deny knowledge of a crime if they didn't witness it themselves, no doubt.
Which pleased Carl, since he made it to the loading dock with no problems, contrary to his expectations. He would have thought that his escape would consist of a running battle after someone caught him trying to leave. Maybe it was because he didn't immediately try to smash his way through all the walls to his freedom and in the process alerting everybody that something was happening?
With a shrug at himself since he didn't know the answer, he continued through the loading docks to the parking lot and tried to figure out which was the director's car. Thankfully it had one of those key fobs, so after wandering around a bit clicking the lock button to get the car to beep, he found himself in front of a nice four door BMW.
Opening up the back door, he carefully put Caroline Wallace in the back seat. He had found her own identification on her and learned her last name, but left her money and cards alone. He only felt it was right that he know the full name of the woman who had given her life for him.
After dropping the gurney down on its wheels so that it was as small as it could get, he put it in an out of the way corner where it wasn't easily seen. Un-strapping the rifle and the belt with a pistol, he placed them in the passenger seat where they would be at hand if he needed them for whatever reason. Just because he was now a super strong Bizarro Kryptonian/Czarnian/Atlantean hybrid clone was no reason to give up using useful tools.
Starting up the car, he found himself pleased at the smooth sound of the engine turning over. In other circumstances he would have enjoyed going on a long car ride in such a comfortable ride. As he pulled out of the parking garage, he made sure to look at the street signs and address of the building so he would know the address for later.
It wasn't long before he was headed away from the industrial part of the city and towards the more populated areas. He kept on the lookout for any phone booths that might have phone books for him to get an address from.
But the more he looked, the more it appeared that there were no phone booths around. According to that document he had filled out, the default starting date was 1985, which would have had plenty of pay phones around. But then Carl remembered that he had written down that he wanted to start in 1996. So that's probably why. With a frown, Carl came up with a new plan and pulled into the first gas station he found.
Parking the car as far as he could from everyone else, he entered the convenience store part of the gas station. He saw some magazines and newspapers on a stand, which gave him a date of Tuesday, April 30, 1996.
Looking around the store, he soon saw the paper maps near the cash register. Grabbing one of them, he saw that he was in Jump City, California. It was apparently located where San Francisco was in his past life. He had somewhat expected that he was in Jump City based on the address of the guard's ID, but he hadn't been positive, and wanted to confirm it. He dropped the map on the counter for the cashier to ring up for him to pay with his looted money.
"That'll be $4.95." The cashier said in a bored tone of voice after ringing up the map.
"I don't suppose you know the address of the nearest police station, do you?" Carl asked as he was handing him a 20 dollar bill. His question caused the cashier to straighten up and stare at him suspiciously, for some reason. "A thief stole my cell phone." Carl lied on the spot, having seen some people walking around with them so he knew they were a thing here. "So I'm going in to report it for insurance purposes, even if there's no chance of catching them."
"Oh, yeah. That sucks man. Uh…just a second and let me look it up for you."
"Thanks." Carl said and watched as the guy pulled out his own cell phone and used the map search function to look for the nearest police station. Carl thanked the man again after getting the address, crossroads, and directions.
"Good luck with all that." The cashier said as Carl left, which caused Carl to thank him again with a wave goodbye.
Carl tensed a bit when he stepped out of the door because he saw a police car parked next to his stolen car, and two officers were just getting out of their car. He took a breath to steady himself, and casually walked towards his stolen car with firearms and a body in it while casually nodding a greeting to the officers as he passed them.
He didn't want to create a scene here at the gas station. And he was positive that his reception would be very different if he walked into the police station himself to report the crimes that the people of CADMUS had committed, rather than being arrested here at a gas station for having a murdered woman in his car.
Good thing the windows of the director's car were heavily tinted, so it was very difficult to see inside. Otherwise things may have devolved badly if the officers spotted the body bag and guns. The two police officers just nodded back with smiles and made their way inside to grab whatever they were getting.
With a relieved sigh at the non-confrontation, Carl got in the car and carefully pulled out of the gas station with another sigh of relief.
He had been thinking about his situation in this new world, and he had come to the conclusion that even though he wanted to take the time to get his bearings and look around at what kind of world he was in now before he put himself out there and contacted any authorities, he probably shouldn't.
If he reported Caroline's murder and the location of the secret lab that was doing unethical experiments immediately, there was a much higher chance of catching the people responsible before they had the chance to cover their tracks. He felt he owed it to Caroline for what she did for him to try to get the organization that basically had her enslaved under threat of death, and was ultimately responsible for her murder.
Not to mention that reporting it himself and being cooperative with the police as they investigated was much more likely to get him integrated into society and get himself an identity than if he tried to do it himself. Hell if he knew how to find the seedy underside of society that could give him a false ID. And hell if he knew how to contact the superhero groups in this world.
And it had occurred to him that if he waited too long, the organization behind cloning him and murdering Caroline could have used this opportunity to blame all the deaths on him, claiming that he was a murderous experiment gone wrong. They could then get the superhero groups to clean up after them by attacking him, essentially using them to wipe their asses clean.
And Carl just didn't want to end up being the target of all the superheroes coming after him with false impressions and a determination to "stop the monster from killing again". Nothing worse than a bunch of stubborn people who were convinced they were in the right and refusing to listen to reason. They tended to attack first and ask questions last.
Carl pulled up outside the police station and debated about where to park his stolen car. Once he alerted them to what was happening, they would no doubt cordon it off to gather evidence, and he didn't want it to be a big inconvenience to traffic in and out of the police station. So he pulled into the nearest visitors spot in the parking lot, which seemed to be a decent place out of the main flow of traffic.
Taking a deep breath to brace himself for what would no doubt turn into a very long day of endless questions, Carl got himself ready. He unloaded the rifle and pistol and left them in the seat next to him, and he left behind anything that could be considered a weapon. But he took the wallets and IDs of the director and guards with him.
Just before locking up the car, he pulled of the cap and tossed it into the passenger seat. He wouldn't need it to attempt to hide his face anymore, so he left it behind.
Inside the station he looked around a bit, before walking up to the desk that seemed to be where visitors signed in.
"Hello." Carl said, and the older looking police officer looked up from his computer screen. His eyes widened in shock for some reason that Carl didn't bother to ponder. "I'm here to report a murder."
He was right. It was a long day.
