As I stood before the Dark Knight, the weight of responsibility settled on my shoulders, heavy with the burden I never asked for. Damn, I was tired of tiptoeing through life, terrified of the cataclysmic consequences that awaited a single misplaced touch. But amidst the shadows of doubt, I saw a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. This training offered a chance to reclaim a semblance of normalcy. It held the key to freedom from the suffocating fear that plagued my every step.
Batman's steely gaze met mine, a silent understanding passing between us. It was as if he could see the depths of my inner turmoil. With a subtle nod, he motioned for me to settle into a leather armchair near the main monitor, its mesmerizing array of screens humming softly in the background.
"Clark," Batman's deep voice broke through the silence, his stoic expression softened by a hint of gratitude. "I appreciate your willingness to come here. Our objective is clear— to guide you in harnessing your powers responsibly, ensuring they become a force for good rather than an instrument of chaos."
I nodded in acknowledgment, though a trace of skepticism lingered in the corners of my mind. It was strange to have someone else fling my own insecurities back in my face.
"To learn control, you must first comprehend the full scope of your powers. Understand their breadth and boundaries." Batman raised a hand and motioned towards the vast expanse of the cave.
Responding to his unspoken invitation, I swiftly rose from the comfort of the chair, and fell into step beside him. His purposeful stride led the way through the winding maze of corridors in his hidden sanctuary.
"Allow yourself to be immersed in the training, honing your skills until they flow effortlessly, becoming an extension of your very being." Batman explained as we passed a display of meticulously organized grenades. From spherical orbs to cylindrical canisters, each bore cryptic markings, hinting at their distinct properties.
"It's about finding that sweet spot, the balance between control and instinct." Pausing at a bank of computer consoles, Batman turned towards me. "Now, as you are well aware, I possess certain... insights into the extent of your abilities." Under the cowl, his piercing gaze seemed to dissect my very essence.
"Starting with that little incident, which made it abundantly clear that bullets pose no threat to you." He emphasized, a wry smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
Regret pierced through me like a blade, my lips parting involuntarily as I relived the stupidity of my actions.
As if noticing my distress, Batman offered a reassuring smile. "Rest easy," he said, "I've taken care of erasing any trace of the footage."
A sheepish grin spread across my face. "Thanks," I muttered in relief.
"And during our last encounter…" Batman's voice trailed off, "I have to hand it to you, not just anyone can keep me rooted in place with their bare hands." His lips curled into a faint smile.
A cringe flickered across my face, replaying the awkward scene in my mind. I unconsciously rubbed the back of my neck, unsure of how to respond.
But without missing a beat, Batman went on. "To create the ideal training routine, we need to explore the full spectrum of what you can do." He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What caliber are we dealing with here? Are we talking heavy dumbbells or small cars? Have you tested your limits?"
I stood before him, mouth agape, unable to conceal my embarrassment. Truth be told, I had given little consideration to the true magnitude of my powers. The memories of unintentional havoc flooded my mind, fragments of incidents where objects shattered and broke under the sheer force of my existence.
The fiery chaos at the quarry… The blistering heat that had seared the earth, the deafening explosions that sent rocks hurtling through the air. It all roared back to life with a vividness that made me shudder. The image of my mother, her face twisted in pain as she clutched her ribs, flashed before my eyes like an ever-present specter.
The prospect of exploring the boundaries of my power remained a foreign concept, despite Pete's persistent suggestions. It would mean unfastening the chains that kept the slumbering monster at bay, something I wanted to avoid at all costs.
Instead, I spent most of my days desperately trying to conceal and contain what made me different. Restraint was my constant companion, dictating my every move. So lifting cars hadn't exactly been part of my daily routine.
Yet, deep within the recesses of my being, I could feel it. A primal energy clawed against its confinement. It pulsed within me, eager to be unleashed, like a caged beast yearning for the sweet taste of freedom.
"Honestly, I can't say for certain." I finally managed to reply, my voice strained. "But there've been moments where it felt like I could move mountains if I wanted to." My cheeks flushed with a deep shade of crimson at finally vocalizing the unspoken truth.
A faint smile curved Batman's lips, a subtle nod of acknowledgment that he understood my uncertainty. "Don't worry, Clark. This is why we are here." With a flick of his gloved hand, he motioned for me to follow.
"Now, any other skills in your arsenal I should I be aware of?" Batman inquired casually.
"Arsenal, huh?" I muttered, a hint of bitterness creeping into my tone. The word echoed in my mind, making me feel like a walking weapon of mass destruction.
I hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. Exposing my true nature felt like baring my soul to a stranger. I couldn't lay all my cards on the table just yet. However, I knew that withholding information would only hinder our progress.
"There might be some… things I can do," I cautiously confessed, tracing patterns in the dust with my foot, my gaze fixed on the ground. "I understand the importance of this training," I continued, choosing my words carefully. "But it's a lot to share, and I want to be sure…" I raised my eyes to meet Batman's unwavering gaze, "sure that I can trust you with this part of me."
His stern expression softened ever so slightly, a hint of understanding glinting under his domino mask. "We will take it step by step," he reassured me. "Trust is the foundation of our partnership, Clark. We'll proceed at your pace."
I squared my shoulders. "Deal," I replied, relieved that he didn't press further.
As we walked through the hidden depths of the training facility, Batman led me to a vast chamber that seemed like something out of a sci-fi movie. Strange machines surrounded us, their purpose shrouded in mystery.
In the center of the room, a line of sleek pods stood like sentinels, their polished surfaces exuding a futuristic allure. Soft LED lights lined their edges, casting a subtle glow that danced along the contours.
Batman approached one of the pods and triggered its activation sequence. The metallic doors slid open with a hiss, unveiling an impeccably crafted armored suit.
"You'll be needing this," he said, handing me the black gear. "No need for the gloves or the mask just yet."
I accepted the suit, my fingers tracing the coarse fabric.
"This suit is the result of years of research," Batman explained, his voice filled with pride. "I've personally developed it using a unique blend of advanced materials. It's incredibly durable and provides unmatched resistance to damage."
I moved to a secluded corner of the chamber to change. As I fastened the buckles and adjusted the straps, a spark of excitement momentarily overtook my apprehension. With each secure click, I felt a subtle shift in my mindset. For a brief moment, doubts and uncertainties took a backseat, replaced by a twinge of confidence. A feeling that rarely surfaced when my powers were involved.
Once fully clad in the tactical outfit, I stepped out from the shadows. The rugged material against my body infused me with a sense of badassery that I couldn't deny. With a nod of approval, the Bat motioned me to follow him through the vast chamber, our steps resonating against the concrete floor.
We ventured past an array of enigmatic machines, each one more intricate than the last. Finally, we came to a halt in front of a towering contraption, standing at the center of the room like an imposing monolith.
The machine resembled a colossal hydraulic press, its heavy-duty steel frame gleaming under the bright lights of the chamber. Massive pistons and thick hoses snaked around its base.
I turned to Batman, my apprehension palpable. "What is this thing?" I asked, my gaze locked onto the mysterious structure.
Batman crossed his arms, a hint of a smile curling upon his lips. "Well, this here is no ordinary device," he began, "It allows you to measure an individual's strength in a way that surpasses anything you'll find in your local gym. It's made of osmium, the densest material known to man, designed specifically for individuals with aptitudes beyond what's humanly possible."
I nodded, my gaze gradually shifting upward to trace the monumental silhouette of the mechanical beast. Nervousness fluttered in the pit of my stomach, mingled with a tinge of excitement. The thought of my training being connected to that machine sent a shiver down my spine.
Batman guided me to the center of the metal press, pointing out two marks at the top of its smooth surface, where my hands were to be placed. "Stand here, Clark," he instructed, his voice steady and reassuring.
I hesitantly stepped forward, and took my place at the designated spot, my pulse quickening with every movement. The hydraulics above me hummed with a low, mechanical growl. As I positioned myself, the metallic surface felt cool and solid beneath my palms.
Surrounded by the immense structure, I couldn't help but feel like a lab rat thrust into an elaborate experiment, its every move observed and controlled.
Meanwhile, Batman moved to a nearby monitor, his gloved fingers dancing across the controls. The screen burst to life, displaying a series of intricate readings and data.
"I'll be monitoring the machine from here," he explained, his eyes focused on the screen. "We've implemented voice-activated safety measures. If it becomes too much, just say 'stop,' and the machine will halt immediately. Don't worry, it will never close fully. Safety first," he said with a reassuring wink.
"Now, Clark," Batman added. "When you feel prepared, let me know. We'll start conservatively, given our lack of a benchmark. Are you ready?"
"Ready," I affirmed, my voice steady despite the nervous flutter in my chest.
The machine groaned in response to Batman's final adjustments. A low rumble reverberated through the chamber, signaling the imminent trial. I took a deep breath, mustering my resolve.
"Starting with the equivalent of 50 kilograms," Batman announced as the press whirred to life.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the weight started increasing, exerting its force. My eyes fixated on the screen before me, where the numbers steadily climbed, inching closer to the designated weight.
"How does it feel, Clark?" Batman's question broke through the mechanical symphony, his eyes fixed on me with unwavering focus.
A smirk tugged at the corners of my lips. "Wait, has it even started?" I teased, raising an eyebrow playfully. In that moment, the weight seemed inconsequential, barely registering against my palms.
A faint smile danced upon Batman's face, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Just you wait," he replied. "We're just getting started. Remember, just say the safety word if you need to tap out."
With a nod, I returned my gaze to the screen where the numbers continued their ascent. The anticipation within me grew like an electric charge. As the weight reached 300 kilograms, my astonishment grew. The strain, if there was any, felt negligible.
"We're entering a category that extends beyond the capabilities of ordinary humans," Batman stated matter-of-factly.
I couldn't say I was entirely surprised. My strength had always felt above average. I recalled the countless times my touch turned everyday objects into crushed remnants, much to Jake's dismay and anger.
The numbers acted as a cold, numerical indictment, exposing the truth I had long tried to suppress. I was a freak lurking beneath a thin veneer of humanity.
As the numbers reached one ton, a small gasp escaped my lips. The realization hit me like a sudden blow to the gut, confirming the suspicions I had harbored for so long. Seeing them quantified in numbers only reaffirmed my fears.
"That's a small car," Batman casually noted.
"B-Batman," I called out, my voice laced with disbelief. "Is this right? Are those numbers accurate?"
"They're accurate, Clark," he confirmed.
"I... I never expected this," I stammered. "I can't explain it, there's no strain, yet the weight keeps increasing. It's... it's like I'm barely even holding it up." I muttered, the words barely audible.
"This is why strength without control is a dangerous thing," Batman cautioned impassively.
His words hit a chord as I was painfully reminded why he had been keeping a close eye on me in the first place.
The numbers continued to climb, each digit rising higher and higher, pushing the boundaries of what I thought was possible.
Doubts insidiously wormed their way into my thoughts, and my focus began to waver. I averted my eyes from the screen, unable to bear the truth staring back at me any longer. Could I truly control this power? Or would it control me? The weight of the world suddenly seemed heavier than ever before. No wonder every day of my existence was a struggle if this is what I was dealing with. How could I ever dare to dream of living a normal life?
"Clark, focus. Remember why we're here," Batman's voice broke through the stifling silence, a lifeline that snapped me back to reality. My internal struggles must have been written all across my face.
"I... I..." I stammered, my words catching in my throat. I struggled to find the right words to express the maelstrom of emotions swirling within me.
The numbers on the screen continued their relentless ascent, the increasing weight becoming more daunting with each passing second. But I couldn't bring myself to watch. I kept my head low, my gaze fixed upon the cold, unyielding ground beneath me.
I had silently wished for a chance to finally explore my own boundaries, clinging to the hope that it would grant me a sliver of control over this unbearable curse, but now I found myself questioning whether I wanted to uncover those limits at all. A wave of uncertainty crashed over me, threatening to wash away any semblance of confidence I had mustered.
As my eyes darted to the side, I caught a glimpse of Batman's gloved hand pushing a lever on his control panel. The subtle movement triggered a tangible shift.
The weight, which had steadily climbed until now, seemed to respond to the alteration. I felt the subtle change ripple through my body, causing a tingle to run up my arms. With my stance locked in, my muscles reacted instinctively, and I adjusted my hold on the cool surface of the press.
No longer a mere background sensation, the weight started demanding my attention. A surge of exhilaration coursed through me. This sensation was unlike anything I had experienced before, momentarily eclipsing the gripping anxiety that had coiled within me. I relished the sensation of actively pushing against the weight, feeling my body respond to it. It felt strangely cathartic, as if I were finally setting free a force I had long repressed.
A rush of emotions welled up within me, a mix of relief and an unexpected wave of joy. Though I hadn't reached the breaking point, this newfound sensation confirmed that even I had limits. The weight pressing against me became a symbol of my humanity, evidence that I, too, had to bow to the laws of nature.
Amidst the whirlwind of emotions, Batman's voice pierced through the haze, laced with a hint of amusement. "Looks like you're starting to feel it, huh? I've finally seen you move."
I lifted my gaze, ready to respond. But, as my eyes fell upon the screen, I let out an audible gasp before I could even form the words. My hold wavered ever so slightly as I stared at the monitor, eyes wide in shock. The numbers displayed there were beyond comprehension.
1614 t
1615 t
1616 t
1617 t
…
What the… I blinked, trying to process the sheer magnitude of it all. It couldn't be real, it was a glitch in the fabric of reality.
"Yes… I can feel it now," I managed to reply, glancing up at my palms to tear my gaze away from the overwhelming numbers. I steadied my arms, which had slightly faltered under the weight's increasing force, and resolutely raised them back up. The machine emitted a groan of protest, its metallic sound resonating through the chamber.
Batman's voice rang out, slicing through the mechanical chorus. "Don't push it back up," he warned, urgency lacing his words. "The machine is calibrated to lower the weight. Defying its mechanics could lead to irreparable damage."
My body stiffened, freezing in place. Breaking a multi-million-dollar piece of equipment was the last thing I wanted, especially one belonging to Batman.
"Sorry," I mumbled, my voice barely audible, my cheeks betraying a subtle flush of embarrassment.
A soft alarm began to chime, accompanying a flickering red light on the control panel and my heart sank.
Well, shit. I had broken it.
Batman glanced at the panel, his brow furrowing slightly. "Looks like we're approaching the press's maximum capacity," he remarked, a faint trace of concern betraying his stoic facade.
A sudden blaring sound reverberated through the chamber, and the weight above me ceased its descent. The machine came to an abrupt halt, leaving me suspended in a moment of uncertainty. Slowly, cautiously, I lowered one arm after the other, the weight's absence a tangible void in the air.
Batman's fingers danced across the control panel, his movements purposeful, before he made his way towards me.
I'm afraid we won't be able to get an exact measurement of your capacity," he said calmly. "But hey, we can always give it another shot with a shipping-grade press down the line. For now, this test gives us a good idea of what we're working with, so we can adapt your training accordingly."
I wasn't exactly thrilled about the thought of going through this ordeal again anytime soon, but I managed a quick nod of acceptance.
Undeterred by my lack of conversational effort, Batman continued, his hand gesturing towards the illuminated monitor. "As you can see, you did great. To put it into perspective, the previous record on this device was less than a third of what you withstood. She reached close to 430 tons. And you..." He paused for a moment, as if searching for the right words. "You reached a humble 1896 tons, and yet, it seemed you had more to give."
I glanced back at the screen, the unforgiving numbers mocking my senses. Yet, something in Batman's words pierced through. Another soul had pushed the limits of this very machine. Whoever that woman was, I knew I was not alone. Questions flooded my mind, who was she? And how many others like us were out there in the world, wrestling with their own demons? A spark of hope ignited in me, realizing that there were others, carrying burdens similar to mine.
For a fleeting moment, the isolation that clung to me seemed less daunting. The weight I carried was shared, silently connecting me to a select few who understood the depths of my struggle.
But as quickly as hope bloomed, it was overshadowed by Batman's sobering words. The bitter truth sank deep into my heart. Even among other superpowered beings, I stood in a league of my own, a singular anomaly.
A freak among freaks.