AN: This will be my first ever work done so go easy on me guys! So basically I became obsessed with Invincible and now I wanted to write about it, because of my disappointment with the lack of Invincible fanfics I decided to write my own as you can clearly see. Without further ado let's get on with this shall we?

I own neither Invincible or any other works shown throughout the series

Chapter Three: HIGHEST IN THE ROOM

The next day, I step into Art's workshop and lay eyes on my new suit for the first time. It's everything I imagined and more. The design is sleek—intense. It's modeled after the darker variant of myself, Sinister Mark, but instead of yellow, it's a deep, menacing red.

The suit is split between that maroon red and a jet black that makes the design pop. The mask wraps tightly around my head, with dark black goggles over the eyes, making me look just the right amount of intimidating. My gloves, boots, and the "I" logo on my chest are all the same dark red, while the rest of the suit is jet black, streamlined for combat. It's powerful, functional, and deadly in all the right ways. Even the cape is a deep maroon, flowing behind me like a dark shadow.

"Now that is what I'm talking about," I say, grinning as I flex in the mirror. The reflection that stares back feels... unstoppable.

Art smiles, nodding in approval. "Told you, kid. You look the part."

Nolan watches silently, but there's a flicker of pride in his eyes. "Looks good on you."

I roll my shoulders, feeling the suit move with me, flexible but strong. "Alright, let's see how it holds up."

I launch into the sky, the city sprawling below me as I soar through the clouds. This is it—Invincible has arrived.

Flying over the city, I scan the streets. Before long, I spot a group of thugs unloading crates from a truck in a back alley. I land quietly behind them, the sound of my boots barely making a noise on the pavement.

"Hey guys, whatcha up to?" I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

The thugs whirl around, startled, guns immediately drawn. "Who the hell—?"

Before they can even finish their sentence, I grab one of their guns and crush it like a soda can. "Guns? Really? You guys are gonna have to try harder than that."

One thug swings a crowbar at me, but I catch it mid-swing, yank it from his hands, and casually bend it into a pretzel shape. "This is sad, guys. You're embarrassing yourselves."

Another thug tries to tackle me from behind, and I let him—just to mess with him. He bounces off me like he just ran into a brick wall. "Buddy, come on. That's just not gonna work."

They try to scatter, but I'm already in motion. I leap forward and sweep their legs out from under them, sending them crashing into the pavement. As one of them scrambles to stand, I use the bent crowbar and gently tap his head with it. "Night, night."

In seconds, they're all laid out on the ground, groaning. "Next time, try robbing a bakery. Might be more your speed."

Just as I'm about to take off, I hear the unmistakable sound of a plasma beam tearing through the air. That's different.

I bolt toward the sound and see Killcannon standing on the street, sending plasma beams flying through the air while cops try to pin him down. The glowing red energy cuts through the squad cars like paper.

I land in front of him, folding my arms across my chest. He notices me, charging up another shot.

"Who the hell are you?" Killcannon growls, his armor glowing brighter.

I smirk. "Me? I'm Invincible."

Without a second thought, he fires a beam directly at me, and I stand there, letting it hit me dead center. The plasma washes over my chest, hot and bright. It stings—a little—but nothing I can't handle. My suit holds up just fine, and I feel my body processing the attack, adjusting to the heat and intensity.

Killcannon stares at me, wide-eyed, as I step forward. "That's cute. Now let me show you how it's done."

I launch myself at him, fist outstretched, and slam into his chest with enough force to send him flying through several walls. Dust and debris scatter in all directions, but I'm already on him before he can get up.

"Here's a tip: when you see someone just stand there and take your best shot, maybe rethink your plan," I say, lifting him by his collar and tossing him into the street.

He groans, struggling to get up, but I give him one final punch that knocks him flat. "Well, that was easy."

With Killcannon down for the count, I hear sirens approaching in the distance. I take one last look at my handiwork before shooting off into the sky, the wind whipping around me as I disappear into the clouds.

As I fly over the city, the Guardians briefly cross my mind. I know what's coming for them, but stepping in now would complicate things. If I start sniffing around, Nolan's going to notice. It's not worth the risk. Sorry, Guardians, but for now, I've got bigger priorities.

I'm not doing this to be the hero people can rely on for every little thing. No, this is about something more strategic. I need people to trust me—not because I'm perfect or some symbol of hope, but because they won't question me. When Nolan makes his move, or when something else happens, they need to believe I won't go rogue. I can't have anyone doubting my motives. Blind trust is the goal here.

Robot isn't an issue right now, but he's sharp. If I don't build my public image early on, he could take control of the narrative later. So, yeah, I'm playing a longer game. Building trust now means when things inevitably fall apart, no one's going to question where I stand.

I spot a street vendor struggling with an umbrella in the wind. Without thinking twice, I drop down, catch it, and hold it steady. He looks at me, surprised. "Thanks, man!"

"Don't mention it," I say, keeping my tone light. The real reason I'm doing this? These small gestures build the narrative I need. When people see me helping out with the little things, they'll think I'm just the guy who's always around. It creates a sense of trust, whether it's earned or not.

As I take off, I can't help but think back to the fight with Killcannon. Letting him hit me with that plasma beam wasn't just to test my powers—it was to see how far I could push them. The Flaxxons use similar tech, and if I can adapt now, I'll be even more prepared when they show up. And it worked. I can feel myself getting stronger with every challenge.

The plan is simple: build trust, adapt, stay ahead. I don't need people to see me as a perfect hero—I just need them to believe that I won't turn bad. No one will doubt me, not when I'm the one out there, always visible, always helping.

I keep flying, scanning the streets below. It's all about positioning. Play the part now, so when everything goes to hell, they'll already be on my side.

After a day of keeping up appearances, doing the small stuff, and focusing on building that trust I need, night falls. And with it, comes the nagging guilt—the weight of knowing what's about to happen to the Guardians and choosing not to do anything. I don't regret sticking to the plan; it's the smart move. But still… it sits there, under the surface, gnawing at me.

I'm not a hero in the typical sense, but it's hard to completely ignore what's coming. So, I do what I've been doing since I got this suit: I head out on another patrol.

The night is cool, the streets a little quieter, but I'm out here because staying at home, thinking about Nolan slaughtering the Guardians, just isn't something I want to deal with right now. I need to clear my head. Maybe punch something.

The city looks different at night. Shadows move through alleys, streetlights flicker, and the usual bustle of the day gives way to something darker. It fits my mood, honestly.

Flying low, I spot a couple of guys arguing in an alley, things escalating quickly as one pulls a knife. Typical. I land between them, quiet and casual, barely making a sound.

"Hey, fellas. We really doing this right now?" I ask, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

They both freeze, eyes wide, and the guy with the knife takes a step back. "S-Stay out of this, man!"

I chuckle and tilt my head. "Nah. That's not happening."

Before he can even blink, I zip forward, snatch the knife out of his hand, and toss it into a dumpster behind him. The other guy looks ready to bolt, but I block his path with a quick shove. "Both of you, take a walk. Now."

They stumble away, muttering under their breath, and I let out a sigh. Not exactly the big action I was hoping for, but it's something. It's enough to keep me from thinking about what's happening to the Guardians right now.

I take to the sky again, my mind racing as I think about Nolan. He probably thinks he's doing the right thing, killing them. He probably even believes I'm oblivious to it all. And for now, that's how it has to stay. But it doesn't mean I can't feel some guilt. Not enough to break the plan, though.

I spot some police sirens down the street and head toward them, needing something to distract me. Anything to keep my mind off what's going down.

But I know one thing for sure: when the time comes, and the truth is out? I'll be the one people trust. I'll be ready.

It was early when the GDA arrived at our doorstep. I was barely awake, still processing everything from the night before, when the agents, all business, ushered us into a car. Debbie didn't ask many questions. She didn't need to—she knew something had to have happened to Nolan, and the GDA themselve's looked tense on the ride over. I have a good idea why though. A flash of Red Rush getting his head squeezed to a pulp popped into my head.

The ride was quiet, and when we arrived, the cold, clinical atmosphere of the GDA's hidden facility hit me immediately. Everything about this place felt secretive, advanced. As we walked through endless hallways filled with tech I could barely wrap my head around, the tension in the air felt suffocating. But I wasn't focused on the Guardians' deaths or Nolan's condition. My mind was already on the Flaxxons.

Nolan was beaten up pretty badly, but seeing him lying there, hooked up to all these machines, made him look almost… vulnerable. Not the force of nature I knew him to be.

Cecil greeted us with that typical calm, collected face. "Debbie, Mark," he began, glancing between us. "We still don't know who's responsible. The Guardians of the Globe were murdered last night, and Nolan's the only survivor."

Debbie stayed silent, her face stern but composed. She wasn't the type to snap, but I could see the pain and confusion swirling behind her eyes. "I'm not leaving his side," she finally said. "I've patched him up plenty of times before. I'll do it again."

Cecil nodded. "We'll get you everything you need."

Then, his gaze shifted to me. "Mark, you've been proving yourself lately. Strong, capable, and the world's going to need someone to step up, especially now that the Guardians are gone."

I kept my face neutral, but I knew what this was—an offer. He wanted me in the fold. I didn't respond, just held his gaze. I knew how to play the long game. But before I could really think about it, Donald came rushing in with a report.

"Sir, we've got an ongoing attack. Multiple casualties," he said, urgency thick in his voice.

Cecil barely blinked before turning back to me. "Well, I guess you'll need to make that decision sooner than you thought, Mark."

I nodded, already prepared. "I'm on it."

Before I could take off, Cecil handed me a small earpiece. "Here. Keep in touch. We'll guide you through the situation."

Without another word, I slipped in the earpiece and launched into the sky. Nolan's condition, the Guardians' deaths, Cecil's offer—it all faded into the background as I honed in on what mattered most: the Flaxxons. This was going to be my first real major fight and had I been just Mark I would've been a bit worried. But I got Doomsday's reactive adaptation, a game changer, one that would allow me to fight the very gods themselves.

The moment I touch down, chaos reigns. Flaxxon soldiers swarm the streets, energy blasts tearing apart buildings, civilians screaming as they scramble for safety. I don't have time to hesitate. I dive straight into the fray, fists flying, determined to cut down as many of them as possible while keeping civilians out of harm's way.

I'm already weaving through the battlefield, knocking soldiers out of the way, ripping apart tanks, and pulling civilians clear of the destruction. I can feel the heat from the blasts, but the adrenaline's pushing me forward. A blast whizzes past my head, but I don't stop. Another explosion hits nearby, and I shield a group of civilians from the debris, my body absorbing the impact like it's nothing.

Just as I'm taking out another wave, I hear a voice crackling in my ear. "Invincible, do you copy? This is Robot."

"I hear you," I respond quickly, still focused on the fight.

"We've connected the comms. Atom Eve, Rex Splode, and Dupli-Kate are already on the ground. We're holding the line, but we need more backup."

"Got it," I grunt, slamming a Flaxxon soldier into the pavement, the concrete cracking beneath us. I expected backup, but not this soon. Good.

I see the others—Atom Eve, Rex, and Dupli-Kate—fighting hard, but the Flaxxon numbers are overwhelming. I don't stop moving, plowing through their ranks. My fists connect with a Flaxxon's armor, shattering it instantly. But I can't save everyone.

Laser fire hits me square in the chest. It burns, sending a wave of pain through me, but I push through it, knowing I can take it. This is why I've been testing my limits—every hit makes me stronger.

Another blast hits me, this one in the side. I grunt from the impact but keep going. Civilians are still trapped in the crossfire. I swoop in, pulling people out of the line of fire, each second feeling like it's slipping away too fast.

"Watch out!" I hear Atom Eve shout from behind me as she throws up a force field, blocking a barrage of energy blasts headed our way. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," I say, shaking off the hit. "Keep them off me."

Robot's voice cuts through again. "We're getting overwhelmed. Focus on the heavy artillery."

I nod, diving into the biggest group of soldiers, plowing through them one by one. The laser fire is getting more intense, but I can feel my body adapting, the heat and energy stinging less with every hit.

Then, just when it feels like we're going to be overrun, I start noticing it. The Flaxxons are aging, their bodies deteriorating before my eyes. The longer they're here, the more time catches up with them.

"They're retreating," Robot calls over the comm. I watch as the Flaxxons scramble back through their portal, disintegrating as they go. It's over. For now.

I was about to head out when I spotted the Teen Team regrouping. Figured it was time to make proper introductions.

"Hey, I'm Invincible," I said, grinning. "Looks like you guys could use a little assistance."

Rex Splode shot me a look, already sizing me up. "Great. Just what we needed. Another strong guy with underwear on the outside." He crossed his arms and leaned a little closer to Atom Eve. "We were doing just fine without you, man."

I smirked, catching the subtle way he angled toward Eve. It was clear only she knew what he was hinting at, but I knew too. "Yeah, I could tell by the way you were getting thrown around back there."

Rex scoffed, his expression tight. "Look, bro, you can fly in and flex all you want, but don't get too comfortable. We've got our thing going here. Right, Eve?"

Eve's eyes flicked to him, but she didn't say anything, clearly picking up on his not-so-subtle jab. I just grinned, playing along. "Relax, Rex. No one's here to steal your spotlight. I'm just here for the heavy lifting."

Before Rex could fire back, Robot's voice came through the comms. "Alright, enough. Focus. We've still got civilians to help. Dupli-Kate and Rex, clear out the rubble. Eve, secure the area. Invincible, help with the heavy lifting."

Rex grumbled, muttering something under his breath as he stormed off toward the rubble, throwing me a side-eye as he went. "Whatever, man. Just stay outta my way."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Wouldn't dream of it."

As we got to work, Rex stayed close enough to keep throwing passive-aggressive comments whenever he could. "Yeah, I'm sure having super strength means you're real useful," he sneered as he lobbed an explosive at a pile of debris.

I shrugged, easily lifting a chunk of concrete off the ground. "Better than being a human firecracker."

Rex scowled but kept working, clearly irritated that I wasn't taking his bait. It was almost too easy to get under his skin. "Just don't expect to waltz in and think you're part of the team," he muttered, not quite loud enough for everyone else to hear.

I smiled, enjoying the banter. "Don't worry, Rex. I'll leave the delicate and lighter stuff to you."

He grumbled something unintelligible, blowing up another pile of rubble as I tossed aside a huge chunk of concrete. Every now and then, I'd catch Eve glancing between us, trying not to laugh.