Chapter 8: Don't Let The Stars Get In Your Eyes

As Mark flies alongside the astronauts' ship, the Earth's moon comes into view. He taps into his comms again, checking in with Cecil.

"Hey Cecil, do the astronauts need anything else? I've kept an eye on 'em and there haven't been any problems."

Cecil's voice remains professional. "No, you're good to take off, Invincible. You did great. You kept the astronauts safe, stayed discreet, and proved yourself out there."

Mark smiles faintly. "Thanks, Cecil. I'll head home."

He descends through the atmosphere, lands softly outside his house, and immediately hears… noises. His parents were being, well, intimate, but apparently, Nolan had the sense to fix the situation before Mark entered. He opens the door to find them both staring at him awkwardly.

Debbie breaks the silence. "How was Mars?"

Mark sighs, staring at them with a defeated, faraway look. "Less eventful than… whatever was going on in here."

He escapes to his room, silently kicking himself after forgetting this. I feel dirty. Well not only mentally from that "encounter" but physically too, though that's to be expected for not being able to shower for two weeks.

Mark, after showering and changing into some casual clothes, texts Eve to let her know he's back. Eve replies, asking him to meet her at her parents' house and to come in through the window since her mom is home. After saying goodbye to Eve, Mark went downstairs to find both his parents chatting in the kitchen. Debbie turned to him, her eyes slightly wide in surprise. "Where are you off to this late at night? You just got back from Mars!" she asked, a teasing tone slipping into her voice.

Mark, not missing a beat, grinned back and said, "I'm going to go visit Eve."

Debbie raised an eyebrow, then broke into a mischievous grin. "Eve, huh? So, are you going to tell me a little more about her? You only talk about her when you go on a patrol!" Her voice was playful, but it had the underlying motherly curiosity she always seemed to wield. "And seeing how you aren't wearing your costume…" She tapered off her grin growing.

Mark could feel the heat rise to his cheeks but brushed it off. "We've just been hanging out for a while," he said casually, trying to keep his voice steady. He glanced over at Nolan, hoping to escape the interrogation.

To his surprise, Nolan was standing by the counter with a sharp thumbs-up, a proud grin stretching across his face. There was something in his expression—maybe a mix of respect and approval. It caught Mark off guard, but in a good way. His dad, who had been so focused on taking over the world, was now silently cheering him on in a completely different way. Mark smiled back, feeling a strange sense of camaraderie.

Still might have to kill him though.

"Alright, alright, just don't forget about your parents, or, you know, saving the world," Debbie teased, waving him off but clearly amused by the situation. With that, Mark slipped out, heading for Eve's.

After flying over to Eve's house, Mark hovered outside her window for a moment, catching his breath. He wasn't nervous, just... thinking. When he knocked, Eve opened the window with a smile, and as soon as he stepped in, they embraced. They held each other for a while, quiet but comfortable.

Mark pulls back then asks "So what was that question you were going to ask?" giving her a small smirk, which is when Eve surprised him by tilting his head down, her eyes soft and warm. Before he could say anything else, she leaned in, her lips brushing against his. The kiss felt like it slowed time, leaving Mark to revel in the moment. For once, his mind wasn't racing ahead or thinking about getting stronger, just the warmth of being here with Eve.

When she finally pulled away, Eve's grin was mischievous yet tender. "So, are we dating now, or what?" she teased, her voice filled with lightness.

Mark, still dazed from the kiss, laughed. "If that's what it takes to make this official, I'm not complaining." He leaned in again for a brief kiss, his mind surprisingly clear for once. This is what I will fight for, he thought, feeling more determined than ever to live out his second chance.

Before things could go further, the door burst open with Eve's mom, Elizabeth, standing wide-eyed in the doorway. "Eve!" she gasped, hands on her hips.

Mark stood there, awkwardly off to the side as the barrage of questions started: "Who is this? What about Rex?" Eve was already facepalming as her mom's interrogation continued, while Mark fiddled with a Rubik's Cube he found on her desk, looking like he was occupied with something really important.

"Mom, this is Mark. We've been hanging out, okay? Rex and I...we broke up because he cheated on me, and I don't want to talk about it right now. The Teen Team broke up too, everyone is in the new Guardians team, but I didn't want to be on the same team as Rex." Her voice slightly raising with each word, showing a hint of frustration as old emotions bubbled up.

Elizabeth's gaze snapped back to Mark, her eyes narrowing. "Wait, he knows you're Atom Eve?"

Eve let out a sigh, giving a tiny grimace. "Yes, he knows," she admitted, not ready for what came next.

Mark finally decided to break the awkward tension. "Mark Grayson, also known as Invincible," he said, stepping forward to shake her mom's hand with a cheeky grin, completely ignoring Eve's shocked expression. "It's nice to meet you."

"Mark," Eve groaned, though there was no anger behind her tone, only disbelief.

Mark shrugged nonchalantly, his grin widening. "If we're going to be together, there's no reason your parents shouldn't know who I am." His voice softened as he looked at Eve with sincerity. He was being serious, no better way to show commitment than unmasking yourself.

Eve's eyes softened, too. The realization that Mark wasn't just fooling around, that he was serious about them, hit her hard in the best way possible. She gave him a warm smile, her heart pounding a little more.

Elizabeth, after staring at Mark for a long moment, asked, "You promise you'll take care of her?"

Mark's response was immediate. "Absolutely. I'd never let her get hurt. That's a promise."

After another moment of scrutiny, Elizabeth finally smiled. "I'm Elizabeth, and Eve's father, Adam, is at work right now. But I won't tell him about this—yet."

Eve blinked. "Wait, what?" She looked between Mark and her mom, bewildered.

Her mom continued, a smirk forming. "I think it's better if Mark meets Adam under normal circumstances. And besides, I have a feeling 'Invincible' won't break his promise." She said throwing up air quotes.

Eve blinks in disbelief but eventually manages a soft, "Thank you…" Her tone reflects her genuine gratitude, making the moment all the more significant. Her mom turns and gives her a small smile and a slight nod.

As her mom leaves the room, Eve turns back to Mark with an incredulous look. "I… didn't think she'd actually keep it a secret from my dad. You don't have secret mind powers, do you?"

Mark laughed, shaking his head. "Nah, it's only my superior charisma that was able to help us," he joked, causing Eve to snicker.

Eve was calming down after, but the memory of him casually playing with a Rubik's Cube while she was talking with her mom makes her laugh even harder. She doubles over, clutching her stomach, tears forming in her eyes as she tries to catch her breath.

"Oh my god, I can't believe you were just sitting there with that Rubik's Cube!" Eve manages between fits of laughter.

Mark grins, pretending to twist an invisible cube in the air. "Hey, I was staying calm under pressure."

Eve wipes her eyes, still chuckling. "It was so ridiculous! My mom was grilling us, and you're just like, 'Hmm, let me solve this real quick.'"

Mark shrugs playfully. "What can I say? I like to multitask."

As Mark and Eve part ways, he takes off into the sky, pulling out his communicator mid-flight. A familiar smirk creeps onto his face as he dials up Robot.

"Hey, Robot. Two weeks in space, no big deal. I'm back and ready to work on that rail cannon. Got the materials set?"

Robot replies in his usual, clinical tone, "Yes, everything is prepared. You're welcome to start whenever you're available."

"Perfect," Mark says, "And how's the Guardian team? I bet they're practically singing Kumbaya over there by now. Big happy family, right?"

There's a brief pause before Robot answers, clearly less enthusiastic, "They've... improved. Somewhat."

Just as he says that, Black Samson's enraged voice booms through Robot's comm, "Rex! I'm going to kill you, kid! Stop drawing dicks on my suit!"

In the distance, Rex's panicked voice follows, "Dude, chill! It was just a prank! The cameras—right there!"

Mark bursts out laughing. "Wow, sounds like you've got it all under control. Art class bonding, huh?"

Robot makes what Mark swears is the robotic version of a sigh. "It's... a process."

Mark, still laughing, says, "Yeah, I bet. Anyway, I can swing by tonight. We'll get started on the rail cannon and maybe touch on that sound project. You need a break from... whatever that madness is."

"Tonight works. The sound frequency project might take more time, but progress is possible. However, I must intervene now," Robot says, as Rex's scream echoes in the background once again.

Mark shakes his head, still grinning. "Good luck with that mess. I'll see you soon."

He ends the call, chuckling to himself as he soars toward home to pick up his suit.

As Mark heads back home, his mind drifts toward the inevitable encounter with Battle Beast, a warrior who's taken on Thragg and nearly won. The stakes are higher than ever, and Mark knows that facing him won't be a typical fight. He reflects on his second shot at life, knowing that while he's grown stronger and faster, Battle Beast is on a different level.

Mark's strategy will have to rely on more than just brute force—his adaptability, speed, and wits will be crucial. He'll have to endure, recover, and evolve quicker than ever, especially since Battle Beast's strength and durability far surpass Mark's current limits. The looming battle isn't just a challenge but a potential make-or-break moment in his journey as a hero.

The thought of losing hangs over him, but it's not a fear that weakens him—it drives him to push himself harder. Battle Beast will be a brutal test, one that Mark knows could change everything. And while his adaptation abilities may give him an edge, he'll need to figure out how to balance those powers with tactical finesse.

But for now, his thoughts circle around preparation. As soon as Robot gives the green light, Mark's ready to head over and dive into the rail cannon project. After all, being ahead of his enemies, both in power and strategy, might just make the difference when Battle Beast finally arrives.

As Mark and Robot continued working into the night, their progress took on a sense of intensity. Mark's speed and strength allowed him to handle the materials effortlessly—no gloves, no protective gear, and to top it off for the hell of it, open toed shoes. If OSHA ever got a look at this, they'd probably pass out on the spot.

The prototype rail cannon, which now had a sleek, angular design like something out of Warhammer 40k, specifically Tau-inspired, began to take shape. It resembled a long rifle, fitted with sleek edges and energy conduits, designed for maximum efficiency. Mark inspected its design, impressed. It wasn't perfect yet, but it was definitely getting there.

Robot hovered beside him, typing commands into a holographic console. "The weapon's energy discharge is now roughly 75% more powerful than it was during our first iteration," he said.

Mark smirked. "That's the kind of firepower I like to hear about." He ran his hand along the cannon's metallic frame, feeling the low hum of the enhanced power core inside.

"Think this'll be enough to handle bigger threats?" Robot asked, genuinely curious.

Mark, without hesitation, replied, "If it's not, then we make it stronger." His grin widened, adding, "And I'm not stopping until this thing can pierce through anything."

The two continued tweaking and testing, Mark adding adjustments to maximize its firing range while Robot optimized the energy regulation system. The collaboration was seamless—Mark's raw power and knowledge of the Flaxon tech working in tandem with Robot's calculated precision and sheer intelligence.

Mark lifted the cannon for another test shot. They had assembled a row of thick titanium plates, and with a low hum, the cannon fired a powerful energy pulse. It blasted through every plate effortlessly, sending molten fragments flying.

"Better," Mark noted, placing the rifle back onto the workbench. "But we're not done yet."

Robot nodded, noting the weapon's overheating issue. "We still need to improve the cooling system. If we can reduce the energy surge upon firing, we'll have a more stable weapon."

Mark chuckled. "Yeah, I'd rather not have it explode in my hands, thanks." He set the cannon down and rolled his shoulders. Despite his lack of fatigue, he understood the importance of not rushing things. This weapon wasn't just about brute strength—it needed finesse and patience. And even though Mark's body could take almost any hit, he wanted his rail cannon to match the same level of invincibility he felt.

As the night wore on, the two of them kept pushing the boundaries of what they could create. They weren't just building a weapon; they were laying the groundwork for Mark's future battles. Each tweak, each improvement brought him one step closer to his weapons completion and hopeful success.

By the time they decided to take a break, the prototype looked far more refined than before. A sleek, menacing rifle with a power core that glowed faintly, like a caged storm waiting to be unleashed.

Mark leaned against the workbench, watching the cannon hum softly. "Feels good. Not perfect yet, but getting there."

Robot adjusted his optical sensors, "Indeed. I'll keep refining the design, and perhaps by our next session, we'll achieve what you're aiming for."

Mark nodded. "Yeah, we will." He tapped the barrel of the cannon lightly, then grinned, "And I think this thing's gonna be more than capable of dealing with any threats for now."

Robot agreed, but before he could speak further, a loud shout came through his comms: "Rex! What the fuck did I tell you, little shit! Stop drawing on my suit!"

Mark burst into laughter. "Man, I'm starting to think Rex might be suicidal."

Robot sighed, the sound almost human-like, "I'll have to intervene… again."

"Good luck," Mark called, still laughing as he watched Robot quickly exit the lab to chase down Rex and Black Samson.

Satisfied with the night's work, Mark gave the cannon one last look before heading out. He knew it was one step closer to what he needed it to be. It might not be strong enough for the heavy hitters, but it's progress.

Mark's phone buzzes in his pocket during class. Glancing down, he sees Cecil's name flash across the screen. With a quiet sigh, he leans over to Eve.

"Gotta step out. Apparently, Kill Cannon is back at it again," Mark mutters with mock excitement, giving her a quick kiss. Eve rolls her eyes with a smile as Mark slips out.

As Mark takes to the sky, his communicator crackles. "Mark, you're en route?" Cecil's voice asks.

"Yup. Kill Cannon again, huh? Guy never quits, does he?" Mark replies, the wind whipping past him as he picks up speed.

"I don't think he's got the brain cells to understand when to quit," Cecil quips. "Just make sure no one gets hurt. The guy's armed and agitated."

"Agitated? He's got a cannon for an arm, I'd be agitated too if it didn't do anything other than shoot stuff," Mark jokes as he spots the scene below.

Kill Cannon was standing in the middle of a barricaded street, his cannon-arm trained on a group of police officers. The cops, ducking behind their cruisers, exchanged nervous glances.

"C'mon, don't make me use this thing!" Kill Cannon shouts, clearly trying to sound threatening. "I'll do it!"

"Get a load of this guy," Mark murmurs to himself as he swoops down, positioning himself between Kill Cannon and the cops. As the villain fires, the beam hits Mark square in the chest.

Nothing. Not even a tickle.

Mark looks down at his chest, then back up at Kill Cannon with a disappointed sigh. "Really? That's all you've got? No upgrades? No tricks? Just this… again?"

The police officer closest to Mark shakes his head, clearly relieved. "Well this might be wrapped up in time for lunch" he mutters, pulling out his radio to update the others.

Kill Cannon hesitates for a moment, then desperately fires another shot. Same result—Mark doesn't even flinch.

"Okay, but hear me out," Mark says, hovering toward him slowly, "what if you just… gave up? Like, for real. It could save you a lot of time, effort, and repair bills."

Kill Cannon backs up, frustration written all over his face. "Screw you!" he shouts, charging up his arm cannon for a more powerful blast.

Mark frowns. "Alright, well, you're clearly committed to this whole failure thing." In a blur, he grabs Kill Cannon's arm mid-fire, flying up with the villian, effortlessly crushing his cannon arm.

"Aw, c'mon! You know how much time and money that took to build?!" Kill Cannon whines, his bravado shrinking.

"Uh-huh. Well I could've always dropped you, but this seemed less messy," Mark says, gesturing down to the street below. The people watching from behind police lines take out their phones, clearly loving the show.

"Fine, fine! You win!" Kill Cannon pales, finally throwing his remaining hand up in surrender.

Mark lowers him gently to the ground, smirking as the police close in. "Next time, maybe try something that actually works," he adds, before shooting off into the sky.

As he flies, he taps his earpiece, calling Cecil. "Hey, all's taken care of. Kill Cannon's on his way back to jail. Gotta say, he's more of a chore than anything now."

Cecil's voice comes through, professional as ever. "Good work. You're keeping the streets clean."

Mark grins, though there's a hint of something more serious in his voice. "Speaking of keeping things clean, I know my Dad told you to stay out of the whole training-my-son thing, but... I'm not opposed to working directly with the GDA. I'm my own guy, and if you need me for something bigger... I am always available."

There's a pause, as Cecil processes that. "You're treading in murky waters, Mark. You know your fathers stance."

"I know," Mark replies casually, though there's an undercurrent of seriousness. "But things change. And maybe working with you guys could benefit both of us."

Cecil lets out a low, considering hum. "Interesting. I'll keep that in mind... but for now, we'll keep it as-is. Don't want to step on any toes."

Mark chuckles, "I get it, but just know that I'm open to it. You've got my number."

"I do. And for what it's worth, you're doing good work, Mark. I'll keep in touch."

Mark upon landing near the school, tosses off his suit and getting back into regular clothes feels a small lump in one of the pockets in the suit. A grin spreads across his face as he pulls out the Mars rock he'd pocketed during his trip.

"Right, I had wanted to give this to Eve," Mark murmurs to himself, tossing and turning the rock in his hands.

After texting her, Mark meets up with Eve, and within moments, they're flying together as if it's the most natural thing ever. They land somewhere quiet, the energy between them calm but electric, and share a warm hug before Mark gives her a soft kiss.

"I got you something," Mark says, pulling the reddish Mars rock from his pocket, catching her slightly off guard.

Eve blinks, staring at the rock. "Wait…is that?"

"From Mars. I thought of grabbing you something while I was there," Mark says casually, his grin growing wider as he watches her reaction.

She takes the rock, turning it over, before breaking into a smile. "You brought me a rock from Mars. You're such a dork."

Mark chuckles, pulling her closer. "Hey, don't act like you don't love it. That's a one-of-a-kind Mars souvenir right there."

Eve tilts her head up, her expression softening. "I do. It's perfect." She kisses him again, this time slower, before leaning back just slightly to whisper, "Thank you."

Mark laughs softly, looking down at her with warmth. "You know, I was worried it'd be a little cheesy."

Eve shakes her head, smiling. "It's perfect. Nerdy... but perfect."

Mark couldn't help but laugh at her comment. "Just promise you won't turn it into a paperweight, okay?"

Eve shook her head, smiling. "Definitely not. I'll find the perfect place for it."

Mark and Eve floated above the city, the lights twinkling beneath them. Everything felt calm, but Mark noticed Eve's expression had shifted, her gaze distant.

"Leg workouts aren't something I've been doing since flying," Mark teased, nudging her gently to lighten the mood.

Eve offered a small smile, but it didn't fully reach her eyes. "Flying muscles aren't real, Mark. You should probably do squats every once in a while."

"Hey, I can fly," he replied with a grin. "Who needs legs at that point?"

Eve chuckled softly but quickly lapsed back into silence. "You know… I've been thinking I want to step back from all of this. The fighting. I don't know if it's really me."

Mark tilted his head, sensing where this was going. "You've had this on your mind awhile, haven't you?"

"Yeah," she admitted, her voice quieter. "It's just... I have all this power, and I'm fighting when I could be doing more. I want to improve places, help people long-term, not just save them from the next bad guy."

Mark paused, letting her words sink in. "Well you literally could change the world, Eve. You've got the power to do that."

Eve sighed, her expression thoughtful. "But is what we're doing now enough? I could be creating solutions, not just reacting to problems."

Mark floated closer, offering her a reassuring smile. "Look, fighting the bad guys is important, but so is everything else you do. You don't have to pick one or the other. You can do both."

She leaned against his shoulder for a moment, finding comfort in his presence. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I just need to figure out what that balance looks like."

"And whatever it is, I'm here. Whether you're fixing cities, making forests, or fighting bad guys, I'm with you."

Eve looked up at him, her smile soft but genuine. "Thanks. That means a lot."

Mark grinned. "And hey, if you need to teach me how to hit leg day properly, I guess I can fit that in too."

Eve laughed, swatting his arm lightly. "I'll take you up on that."

As they hovered, the city below them continued its rhythm, unaware of the internal changes happening above.

Mark hovers high in the sky, holding some mad scientist by the collar, both of them suspended above the city. The wind whips around them as Mark gives him one last chance. "So, where's the gravity bomb?"

The scientist's eyes dart wildly before he snarls, "I'm not telling you anything!"

Mark sighs, shaking his head. "You know, that's the wrong answer." Without a word, Mark loosens his grip, and the man plummets hundreds of feet.

Nolan watches calmly from nearby, arms crossed.

Before the scientist can splatter, Mark catches him with a sharp yank. The man's face is pale now, his arrogance gone. "It's under the bridge!" he screams.

"See? That wasn't so hard," Mark says, rolling his eyes.

Nolan floats closer, his face unreadable. "He needed to learn his place. Should've talked the first time."

Mark glances at Nolan, hearing a slight edge in his tone. He keeps his response casual, though. "Guess some people just need extra motivation."

As Nolan's eyes linger on him a little too long, Mark taps his wrist, glancing at an imaginary watch. "Oh no, look at the time! I'm late for school. Gotta go."

Before Nolan can respond, Mark shoots off toward the horizon, using school as an escape from any more subtle indoctrination speeches that might have been brewing in his dad's mind.

Mark stepped into school, barely making it through the doors before hearing the PA system crackle overhead.

"Mark Grayson, please report to Principal Winslow's office immediately."

With a sigh, he turned on his heel and made his way to the office, knowing exactly what this was about. He'd missed enough classes to warrant attention, and the looming conversation felt inevitable.

Mark entered Principal Winslow's office, keeping his demeanor casual. Winslow glanced up from his desk, giving a sigh of mixed concern and patience.

"Mark, it's good to see you, but I'd rather see you in class than in here," Winslow said.

Mark smiled, leaning back in his seat. "Yeah, I know. I just… got a lot going on."

Winslow folded his arms. "That much is obvious. But your attendance is becoming a problem, and it's not just slipping under the radar. You're smart, Mark. College is still an option if you focus."

Mark gave a slight shrug. "College... honestly, I don't think that's where I'm heading right now."

Winslow raised an eyebrow. "No college? So what's the plan then?"

Thinking on his feet, Mark casually replied, "I've been thinking about maybe working for a branch of Homeland Security. Something in public service, using my skills where they matter most."

Winslow stared at him for a moment, as if weighing the seriousness of the answer. "Homeland Security? You're serious?"

"Yeah," Mark said, keeping his voice light but convincing. "I've got a lot to think about with everything going on, but I want to make a difference."

The principal leaned back in his chair, considering. "Well, if that's your path, then you need to commit to it. But understand—this is your choice. It's up to you to make it work."

Mark nodded. "Thanks, Principal Winslow. I've been thinking about it a lot lately. I won't waste the opportunity."

Winslow offered a thin smile. "Good. Just make sure you're planning for something sustainable. Now get to class before I have to start getting your mom involved."

Mark laughed, standing up. "Yeah, you really don't want to do that." He gave a quick wave and left the office.

Mark spotted William by his locker for the first time since his Mars mission. William gave him a dramatic eye roll, arms crossed.

"Seriously, dude? You go to Mars for two weeks, then come back and leave school early yesterday? You gonna fill me in, or what?"

Mark grinned. "Yeah, yeah. Had some superhero stuff to deal with. It's been a busy couple of days."

William gave him a look, arms crossed. "Sure, just hero stuff. Like that's an excuse to ghost your best friend?"

"Oh, and I'm dating Eve now," Mark added, letting the news drop like it was no big deal.

William's jaw practically hit the floor. "Wait, what? When did that happen? You don't just drop something like that out of nowhere, man!"

Mark shrugged with a grin. "You know how it is—save the world, get the girl. Same old, same old."

William shook his head, incredulous but amused. "You keep doing this! You disappear, come back with life-altering news, and just... walk away like it's nothing!"

Mark started backing up, laughing. "Hey, I've gotta head to class, don't need more absences. Catch up later?"

"Oh, come on! Again, really?! You can't just leave me hanging with that!" William called after him, exasperated.

Mark waved as he headed off. "I'll fill you in later, promise. Maybe next time I'll have even more mind breaking news."

William rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Next time, come back with something normal like, 'Hey, I got a dog!' or something."

Mark chuckled, shaking his head as he disappeared into the hall. "No promises."

Mark stood in the Guardians' base, staring at the rail cannon prototype as Robot prepared the next test. They had just finished improving the weapon after multiple rounds of tinkering and upgrading the materials to high-strength steel alloys. It was time to test its power on Mark himself, who, despite Robot's visible hesitation, was eager to push his limits.

Mark took his place in front of the target area, a grin spreading across his face as he thought about how far he'd come since getting a second chance at life. The first few shots had done nothing, but now, after continued improvement and his own adaptation, things were about to get serious.

"Are you sure you want to continue?" Robot asked, clearly weighing the risks. "The rail cannon pierced through the metal with ease. It's capable of far more damage now."

Mark gave a reassuring smile. "Trust me, Robot. I can take it." He patted his chest with mock confidence, "Besides, I heal fast if anything goes wrong."

Robot didn't quite buy into Mark's bravado, but after a short pause, he initiated the cannon's firing sequence. "If you're certain," Robot replied, his voice steady but with a robotic caution that only a machine could project.

The rail cannon hummed, its power building up, and the next thing Mark felt was a sudden burst of force as the projectile shot out with a crackling blast. He tensed his muscles in anticipation, knowing this would be the real test. The impact was hard—harder than before—but Mark barely budged, his body soaking the hit. He clenched his teeth as pain radiated through his chest, but it wasn't enough to take him down.

"That... kinda hurt," Mark muttered, rubbing the spot on his chest where the cannon struck, feeling the subtle shift of his body adapting to the damage.

Robot's sensors beeped, processing the data from the impact. "The results show you sustained moderate damage. Are you sure you want to continue?"

Mark smirked. "Yep. Let's keep going."

The cycle repeated. Each shot hit harder, and each time, Mark's body absorbed the damage, forcing itself to grow stronger, more durable. His cockiness grew, but underneath it, there was a lingering tension. Battle Beast wasn't going to be a pushover like the others he'd faced. Mark knew that he couldn't afford to slack off, not even for a second.

After several rounds, the rail cannon was noticeably more powerful, and so was Mark. He could feel his skin growing tougher, his bones harder. The shots no longer just hurt—they were starting to sting, and he could tell that he was getting stronger each time.

"You're hitting harder now, Robot," Mark said, adjusting his stance. "But I'm still standing."

Robot's head turned toward him. "The results are exceeding expectations. However, if you wish to continue, I would suggest we take a short break. Your body may be durable, but my calculations show this amount of damage is bordering on significant."

Mark waved off Robot's concern. "Nah, I'm good. I'm not even close to tapped out."

He stood up straight, rolling his shoulders, thinking back to his past life, where a single gunshot had been enough to kill him. Now? Now he was standing here, tanking shots from a rail cannon that could pierce through high-strength steel.

Crazy how things change, he thought, looking at the cannon with renewed confidence.

"Alright," Robot said. "Prepare for the next round. Increasing power output by five percent."

Mark grinned. This was exactly what he needed before facing someone like Battle Beast. He was cocky, sure—but cautiously so. Because he knew that if he didn't keep pushing himself, that fight could be the one where he wouldn't get back up.

"Let's do it," Mark said, bracing himself for the next shot.

Mark stood in the testing chamber, catching his breath after the final rail cannon shot. "The cannon's great for now, but there's something else we need to deal with," he said, stepping toward Robot.

Robot turned to him. "What do you mean?"

"Frequencies," Mark said, his expression serious. "It's a weak spot—one we can't ignore. If someone figures it out, they could take me down."

Robot paused for a moment before responding, "You told me a little of this vulnerability, though we must proceed with caution if it is as serious as you say, but even I understand the importance of overcoming one's weakness. Very well, let's begin testing"

Mark nodded, stepping into the testing area. The first few frequencies passed with no reaction, just faint buzzing sounds. Mark stood firm, arms crossed, unaffected.

"Anything?" Robot asked.

"Not yet. Go higher," Mark replied.

Robot adjusted the settings, raising the pitch. It was sharper now, but still nothing significant. Mark stood still, nerves raising. "Higher."

Robot continued, working through different frequencies until suddenly, a sharp, piercing sound hit. Mark's hands flew to his ears, and his legs buckled beneath him. He dropped to both knees, eyes squeezed shut in pain.

Robot, seeing Mark collapse, moved to shut off the test. "Mark—"

"Don't!" Mark gritted his teeth. "Keep it going."

Robot hesitated but followed the command, keeping the frequency steady. Mark's body trembled as the sound pulsed through him. The pain was unbearable, like his head was about to split, but he wasn't about to let this weakness control him.

Slowly, he began to rise. His legs shook, his vision blurred, but inch by inch, he forced himself up. Each movement was excruciating, but he pushed forward, his body adapting bit by bit.

Step by step, Mark moved forward, the frequency still hammering at him, but he was adjusting. His breathing steadied, and his movements became more controlled. It wasn't easy, but he was doing it.

Finally, he lifted off the ground, hovering just above the floor. His body trembled, sweat poured down his face and blood was coming out of his ears, but he hovered, fighting through the pain.

Robot monitored the data in silence, then shut off the frequency. Mark landed back on the ground, breathing hard, his face still tense from the strain.

"You've sustained damage," Robot said, observing the results, "but the progress is clear."

Mark wiped the blood from his ears and smirked, exhausted but relieved. "We're not done yet. We'll push it further next time."

AN: I'M ALIVE, but seriously thanks for being patient with me yall, it was an unexpected hiatus but I'm back to writing.