AN: This is sort of a prologue to a DC SI, you would notice that he does not have any powers yet (as far as he knows), a discerning reader or someone who keeps an eye on the superhero genre will be able to determine what power he actually has.

Hungry for Heroes (DC SI)

When I was a young man, I used to wish that whenever death came for me, all those stories about people being reincarnated into other worlds would be true, and that I would be next in line for another shot at life.

My life wasn't bad. By all means, it was a good one. I just felt… regretful, at a lot of the things I had done, at a lot of words that failed to leave my mouth before it was too late.

I always entertained the thought of living life in a fantasy world, becoming the strongest in that world, gaining the power to return to the past of my original world and give my past self a big slap in the face for not trying hard enough.

I was always the idealistic sort, which meant that I had high expectations of myself that I tend to fall short of.

Death could not overturn a lifetime of habits. And when I finally had my chance, I ended up making some of the same mistakes all over again.

Fear may be a natural instinct, but it seemed as though I was no better at overcoming such base, carnal feelings than I was in my first life.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The infernal cacophony of antique clocks served as a reminder of my folly, of the river of time that flows past me, as I stood in one place.

Perhaps that was an exaggeration. I hadn't stagnated, exactly, but my quest for ultimate power had consisted of mind numbing tiny steps that it felt like I hadn't taken a real step in the right direction at all.

A little bit of this, a little bit of that.

That was all my talents were good for, anyhow.

I was better at understanding the workings and mechanics of all sorts of things, both simple and complex, in this life than in my first one. It took time, of course, and while I achieved enough to re-earn my rank of Doctor, my achievements were hardly of note compared to the fruits of genius (or madness) unveiled every month or so.

"And that's the last of the mocks." I finished grading one of my classes essays, as per usual, the ones that put in consistent effort rather than cramming at the end of the Lent Term onward was at a higher quality.

I wish I had such dedication back when I was a university student, in my first life… in this very university which I attended. Damn, I hated this London university, yet here I am again.

Sentimental fool. If I were in the Game of Thrones then I would surely be the first to die.

Ticktockticktock-

"Fuck! Where is-"

Perhaps another weakness of my second life was the constant headache and 'hunger' to do something about it.

I rushed to the mini-refrigerator and took out one of many ice packs within.

I pressed the ice pack against my head, gasping at the moment of relief before quieting my mind as best I can. The painful noise, the ticking sound that threatened to overwhelm my senses slowly began to fade away, "Ah… good… investment. Ha...haha…"

At least these bouts of sharp pain faded away unnaturally quickly.

Stumbling back to my desk, I opened up one of the systems on my computer which held me entries of my condition, so far, there was nothing consistent from where the pain emerged from.

The doctors could not find anything wrong either. Scans of my blood showed nothing unusual at all. Some doctors that had… occultic leanings, suggested that I was cursed by a higher power, as they couldn't 'sense' anything off about me.

I was all for that higher power explanation considering my entry point to this world.

A knock on the open door to my office gained my attention, I looked up from my desk to see one of the students… Oh. It's one of the female students.

"Profe- I mean, Doctor Grey, is this a good time?"

I bit back a "life tip" before allowing her in.

I wasn't going to go off on her about how one shouldn't ask a question like that where binary "yes" and "no" responses could be given, in which case, most would tend to "no" in my circumstances.

As one of the few students of the female variety that didn't look at me like a piece of meat, I was not inclined to turn them away if they needed actual assistance.

"Anna, you will find that 'time' be it good, or bad, waits for no one. Come in, take a seat young Ilyina."

If she was weirded out by my outdated references then she didn't show it.

"Are you alright Dr. Grey?"

She got the title right this time at least. Most would just call me professor or by my first name.

While I didn't care for such things, I made it look like I cared about titles so that my students would believe me to be arrogant, and would dissuade them from being over familiar with me on account of my young age.

"I'm fine Anna, just a bit of a headache. So, how can I help you today?"

The pretty blonde smiled and took out a few colored plastic folders from her bag, each containing a different essay. Ah yes, first year students can be such overachievers.

Not that I disliked it. I wanted to be them once upon a time, in another life.

Now that I was definitely an overachiever for baseline human standards, I hardly had the right to gripe about it without getting piss drunk.

"It's about the mandatory "meta-human" effect on the law questions, it's not a topic that could be written about so easily and there's just so many examples, soooo… this essay is about American superheroes like Superman, and this one is about our local-"

Anastasia Ilyina was a big superhero fan, no small wonder that she decided to take up the Political Science course and snatch up all the optional modules that had to do with superheroes.

If I were born into a comic book world, I would have done just that… is what I thought. In reality, I studied everything other than that, as it conflicted with my previous goal of getting a doctorate in a few other subjects at the time.

I took a brief look through her essays, made a list of common mistakes (mostly grammar issues as English was her second language) for her to work on, before discussing with her on how she could improve her arguments with some tips on how examiners might be inclined to give out more marks.

She was an attentive and brilliant student, which was more than I could ask for.

I silently hoped that the pride of a teacher wouldn't be all I have to gain in this life.

"-an important thing is to draw attention to how they promote their values then contrast it to how the public actually perceives… Anna, are you listening?"

She looked a bit distracted, and at my words, she shook her head in the negative.

Honesty. I could use that more often.

"No, sorry Dr. Grey. I was just wondering about the… clocks."

"Oh these old things. Bloody old, that's what they are. They were my grandfather's, all I have left to remember him by."

"Ah! I'm so sorry!"

"Anna, relax. It was a long time ago."

I spent a minute or two talking about my grandfather and how he was a bit disappointed in me for not bothering to learn more on maintaining such clocks, as he was a clockmaker by trade, "I always had a knack for it. Granted, I had a knack for a damn lot of things…"

Anastasia chuckled as I pointed at the many certificates that were hung on one of the walls, "Point is, I had said some… unkind words about his persistence in teaching me a dying art… I uh, never got the chance to apologize. I have taken up his old clocks as a hobby of sorts, ever since, to remember him by. Pro tip, make sure to forgive one another as much as possible, you will never know when you won't get to see someone you care about again."

In a world that risks planetary destruction on a frequent basis, that looming threat should be more than enough reason for people to live better lives.

Of course, as evident by my own choices, humans tend to be very bad at making good decisions. Thankfully, a good amount of humans made great choices.

The university student seemed to consider my words seriously, when I was finished talking about her essay, I gave her a bonus question that she could work on prior to the end of the break, which I promised to grade and return to her with detailed feedback.

"Well, that should be all for the da-"

"Knock! Knock! Lovely evening, ain't it? Grey."

I swerved around in my chair to stare at an unwanted visitor.

"Black. How can I help you?"

"Thought I would pop by and say hello."

"Really?"

"Fine. Joshua, I'm putting together a team-"

"Heard that one before. Nothing to contribute her except my illustrious name."

"Lording your titles over us muppets?"

"Oh no, I'm not brave enough for such arrogance."

"Apparently you're old enough to quote Star Wars."

I stood up and approached the purple-haired future anti-hero. He too, had begun to close the distance between us, by taking one big step towards my path.

We both smirked and grabbed each other for a quick hug.

"You sneaky bugger! The fuck are you doing crawling about my office!"

"Your office?! I thought it was owned by the department."

"I am the department."

"You sayin'?!"

"Okay fine. There's still some fellows above my position, but I'm getting there."

"I can get you there in a snap."

The meta-human snapped his fingers, "Bam! Just like that."

He wasn't kidding.

Manchester Black could certainly mind control my superiors into giving my whatever position I wanted. The fact that he hadn't done so was an achievement that I partially attributed to being in the right place, and right time to help him out in the years back then. If he had worse influences then he would surely be more callous with his telekinetic and telepathic abilities.

"Thank you, but I will unfortunately have to decline once again. I like earning my promotion the old fashion way."

"Hell, what's so great about the 'old fashion' way!"

"Well, for one thing, I don't have to worry about prying eyes wondering how I got all the way up there so quickly. God knows what 'heroes' and 'villains' might crawl out of the woodwork when they see something like that."

"Still on about that "interesting narrative" theory of yours?"

"If you flew right up to Superman and got him to recount every moment in his life, then I dare say my theory would be proven correct."

"You're on. Right, well, found any new pubs?"

"Oh, you know me, food tourism is the only kind of tourism I go for."

It was likely a weird sight to the students walking home from campus grounds. Their esteemed well-dressed professor walking and chatting with a middle-class looking man, who dyed his hair purple and wore the most patriotic symbols upon his clothes.

"How's Vera?"

"She's doing alright. Yourself? Got any ladies in your life?"

"Nope. I'm already married to my research."

"When can I expect the giant robot? I'd say it would have a 50/50 chance of gaining sentience and going rogue. Better invite me to the launch when you need it scrapped."

"Sod off! I am never becoming a mad scientist. Do I look American?"

We managed to get a seat at one of my favorite pubs. We ate and drank as we caught up with each other. Manchester still tried to get me to join his future team "The Elite", I continued to argue why I wasn't a good fit.

Simply put, I had no powers. Just a bit of genius on the side.

An ordinary one, not a comic book one, is what I liked to believe. I was no Lex Luthor.

Manchester was more prepared this time and tried to sell me on the mission control role. I brought up a couple of anime where those in support roles get attacked, which was my usual "narrative" based defense that I use to excuse myself from comic book worthy activities.

I suppose he was just trying to wear my resistance down a bit. It's not working. There is no way in hell that I'm touching the 'hero vs villains' tropes.

I can manage just fine by surviving until the far-future where I can take advantage of developments to build the tech I needed to get out of this world.

"..."

"You're a bit quiet."

He was likely performing a more focused wide-range mental scan. The minds of another telepath, someone with immensely strong willpower, a powerful meta-human or someone randomly immune to his telepathic powers like myself (still doesn't count as a real power) could not be read.

"Shh. Give me a second... Fuck, some dick is summoning a bloody demon around the block! Give me a minute, I have to go blow up this fuckers head off."

"Take your time."

While I wanted to keep his violent killings down to zero, that simply wasn't possible, so instead I worked with him to decide on what kind of crimes counted as the "worst of them all".

Magicians that used human sacrifices would place in the Top 10 of our list.

Manchester got back a couple of minutes later looking extremely worried.

"Mate, I'm going to need your smarts for this, because I think the fucker placed a death curse and you're the only one who knows enough of this magic stuff to help."

Really? Fucking really? Of all days to be careless...

"Bloody hell! How would I know how to lift a death curse? Fuck, come on, let's hit my stash of books."

I may have sworn off using magic considering it's price, but that didn't mean that I had no intentions of learning some useful things to keep myself safe.

"By the way, you didn't touch any of his stuff, did you?"

"Does it look like I forgot the "every magical item should be assumed to be cursed until proven otherwise" rule?"

"Your memory ain't that great."