Open Fire

Getting booted into another reality after burning to death is really not my idea of a good time. Neither is finding myself in a world where alien invasions are treated as a mild inconvenience. Still, it could be worse. At least my power is completely broken! On the other hand, I don't think the Bat will approve...

Right, this idea is admittedly a little odd, but I honestly can't bring myself to care much. Its somewhat inspired by a couple of stories I've read in the past with a similar theme, although they were both YJ rather than the 2004 Batman. The power our MC has this time? A slightly modified version of Miss Militia's. Its just for a bit of fun, so enjoy!

Chapter 1

Time for a quick lesson in Caveman 101. Fire hot, ow! And now for another obvious statement. Dying sucks. Trust me, I know both of them first hand since I was burnt to death, flash fried in a fireball that quite literally came from nowhere. Fortunately, it didn't take long for the fire to kill me since, for the few seconds I was burning alive, it REALLY FUCKING HURT!

What I wasn't expecting was to wake up. When I next opened my eyes, it was to find myself standing in a perfectly circular chamber with a large number of mirrors and screens of various shapes and sizes covering the walls, each showing a different scene. In the center of the chamber was a swivel chair surrounded by keyboards and control panels, each of which was connected to an arm that allowed it to be moved.

Lounging in the chair, fast asleep with a string of drool leaking from his mouth was a man with short, brown hair that looked like it hadn't seen a brush in weeks, a five day beard, pale skin and a pair of square, black framed glasses that had fallen crooked. He was wearing tired looking jeans and a tatty shirt that had once been white, but had long since turned grey from to many washings.

I hesitated for a moment, before deciding that there was no point in standing around all day, so I walked over to the sleeping man and gently shook his shoulder. He snorted and tried to roll over, only to fall of his chair with a crash, before shooting to his feet with his glasses on upside down.

"I'm up, I'm up!" he shouted, "I wasn't sleeping on the job, honest!"

His accent placed his nationality as british and his awakening showed his eyes to be green.

"Wait, you're not the boss," said the man as he spotted me, "How did you get here?"

"Thats a very good question," I said, "Last thing I remember is burning to death."

The young man raised an eyebrow and turned in his chair to face his many control panels, bringing up a file on screen with my face on it.

"Hmm, lets see, Thomas Calvert, age 17, species human, scheduled to come up here never. Huh, interesting."

He turned to me.

"This is you isn't it?"

I nodded.

"Why is species on there?"

"There are more things between heaven and hell than appear in dreams of men," said the young man, "I watch over a lot of worlds and many different species so its kinda necessary."

"What do you mean?" I asked, "Who are you anyway?"

The man looked up.

"Oh, sorry," he said, "I should have introduced myself. I'm Dis Lexic, an Overseer of the Multiverse. Its my job to keep this segment of Creation working and making sure that any issues are dealt with before they get big enough for the man upstairs to get involved."

"So what, your an Angel or something?" I asked.

"Not exactly," said Dis, "I'm more like a technician. The Angels are the Almighties strong right arm, his police force if you will."

"Right," I said, not quite sure what to make of the explanation, "So why am I here exactly?"

"Because you died before your allotted time," said Dis, "It happens occasionally and always makes a total mess of things."

"Why?"

"Because the Souls can only go to heaven or hell after their allotted time has past," said Dis, "You were supposed to live for another 20 years and die when your homeworld was attacked by an interdimensional space whale."

I blinked a couple of times and raised a finger.

"Ahh…"

"Yes, I do mean Scion."

I put my finger down. Well, that was one way to go I guess.

"So what now?" I asked, "Are you going to send me back?"

"Your body in your old dimension was nearly completely destroyed," said Dis, "Besides, time passes differently here and you've already been buried. You can't move on and you can't go back to your old dimension, the only thing I can do is shift you sideways."

"Sideways?"

"Into a different dimension," explained Dis, "It'll be one you recognize and I expect you won't end up being entirely normal."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"When people get shifted sideways, they tend to change," said Dis, "I still have no idea why. Just be thankful you won't be an Outsider. They always get screwed over by Fate."

I gulped.

"Soo, where am I going?"

"Pick a door," said Dis, indicating to a pair of identical doors that hadn't been there before.

"Where do they lead?" I asked.

"Your new home," said the Overseer, "Not even I know where they lead. Don't worry, though, I've already taken steps to make sure you don't get consumed by whatever power you gain. You'll start again with a clean slate, new memories and a new life."

I paused, my hand inches from one of the door handles.

"I won't remember my past?"

Dis shook his head.

"You will," he said, But those memories will be overtaken by new ones and suppressed. They'll be there, but they won't be important. Its how we prevent those we have to shift from getting homesick."

I swallowed and turned back to the door.

"Alright, you can do this," I muttered and opened the door.

The next thing I knew, I had tripped over a crate and landed in a muddy puddle with a splash. I sat up spluttering and looked around. I was in a back alley somewhere, behind a bar or something if the empty barrels were anything to go by.

"Greaaat, where the hell am I?" I muttered.

I glanced around, before picking a direction and walking down the alley in the direction I could see street lamps coming from. I had not gone far when a shadow suddenly lunged out an alley that linked into mine and punched me across the jaw. The force sent me spinning into the grimy wall as an equally grimy looking, emaciated man who stank of something unpleasant stepped out of the alley, waving a rusty looking knife.

"Give me your wallet and phone!" he yelled.

"Whoa hey, easy mate!" I said, holding up my hands, "I haven't got…"

"SHUT UP AND GIVE ME YA STUFF!" yelled the mugger, cutting me off and lunging at me.

I let out a yelp and, without thinking, grabbed his wrist, turned on my heel and jammed the taser that was suddenly in my hand into his side. There was a crackle of electricity and the thug collapsed with a yelp and a splash of muddy water. I blinked in surprise.

"Um. what?" I said, looking between the now unconscious thug and the stun gun.

The weapon didn't look any different than any other, with a black and dark blue camo pattern.

"Where did this come from?" I muttered.

Then, the weapon dissolved into black and dark blue energy that reformed into a swiss army knife with the same camo pattern.

"...oh."

A slight flex of my imagination turned the knife into a machete, then a revolver, then an assault rifle, all of which felt entirely natural in my hands and had the same camo pattern.

"Hmm, well, Dis did say that I'd have powers," I muttered as I turned my weapon into a switchblade and stuck it in my pocket, "Why not Miss Militias?"

I glanced down at the thug, before shrugging and continuing down the alley.

Eventually, I managed to find a way out of the maze of alleys, only to freeze in shock at the sight before me.

"Er, OK, that was not what I was expecting," I said as I stared out over the road at the building that was clearly labelled as 'Gotham Police Station'.

I quickly shook off my shock and glanced around. I was drawing some attention, likely because of my soaked and muddy shirt, but most people were ignoring me. Deciding that just standing there wasn't doing anything, I started down the street in a random direction.

"OK, so I am apparently in the Batman cartoon by the looks of it," I muttered as I stuck my hands in my pocket, "Now what should I do?"

I glanced around, feeling more than a little lost. I had nothing but the clothes on my back and my power, which was probably going to be the only thing that could keep me alive. Whatever the version, a lone teenager with nowhere to go would likely end up being ground into mincemeat by Gotham and its crazies. However, that didn't change the fact that I had no home, no money and no way of getting either since I technically didn't exist.

I sighed as I stopped in the middle of the pavement and looked up. The sky was a rather ominous shade of gray and I could see that the sun was starting to go down. I'd need to find somewhere to get shelter soon or I'd risk getting caught out in a rainstorm at night. In Gotham. I'd almost prefer Brockton.

I sighed again and started walking, turning into an alleyway as I pulled the hood of my jacket up. Gotham was rather famous for an excessively large amount of abandoned warehouses, so it probably wouldn't take long for me to find somewhere I could use as a temporary shelter. It was far from ideal, but beggars can't be choosers.

As I moved through the alleys, I became more and more aware of just how dark Gotham's underbelly was. I walked past drug deals, shakedowns, prostitutes and more than a few homeless people both of the general variety and the kind who were sprawled out in trash, clearly high as a kite. Most of the people I passed eyed me speculatively, but my stained jacket and slight frame meant that they mostly ignored me. Or maybe that was because of the large Bowie knife I had strapped to my thigh.

Eventually, I came to a stop in front of a warehouse that was clearly empty and long abandoned, just in time for the rain to start to fall. Not really wanting to get soaked, I slipped into the building after leaving the door open with a power provided crowbar. It was quickly proving to be a lot more useful than I had expected.

The warehouse was musty inside, but the roof was at least solid and the place seemed empty. The place was clearly abandoned, although there was a few crates laying around that were sealed. I shifted my power into a set of inferred goggles and looked around, quickly scoping out the place to make sure I was alone. Other than some small heat sources that were probably rodents, I was the only living thing in the building. With that done, I took a proper look around and found that the area that was probably offices and the like at one point was actually in pretty good shape, good enough that I could easily turn it into a somewhat livable place. It even had a kitchen, although it definitely needed some TLC.

"Huh, this might actually not be so bad," I muttered as I headed back down to the main floor, "Just need to figure out a way to get the utilities set up. I wonder if theres anything useful in the boxes?"

My crowbar made another appearance as I started opening crates. Most of them didn't really contain anything useful, just parts and rusted scrap, but then I opened the last one and was met by a neatly folded suit of military fatigues in the same dark blue and black as my power with what looked like a black paintball mask with orange goggles and a note with my name on the front. I blinked. That was unexpected.

Dear Tom,

Said the note.

Due to reasons of cannot be arsed, I was unable to create you an identity in your new world, so you're basically starting from nothing. Fortunately, you have power, a reasonably comfortable living space and a new uniform, provided by yours truly. The utilities are paid for in the warehouse, although you'll have to get anything you need, so I suggest you figure out a way to get some money. Have fun!

Dis.

My eye twitched as I crumpled up the letter.

"That bloody asshole," I growled.

I tossed the note and picked up the helmet. It wasn't anything special, just a normal paintballing helmet. I put it on and found that it fit perfectly. Despite myself, I couldn't help the grin that slowly crossed my face. Sure, it might not be ideal, but this was a heck of a lot better than being dead.

I removed the helmet and grabbed the rest of the outfit, changing into it and finding that it was a decent fit and pretty comfortable. I have no idea what it was made of, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't a normal fabric. It also had a flak jacket that went over the top and came with a few handy holsters for a variety of different weapons.

"Heh, OK, this is pretty cool," I said, going through a few stretches to check I had full motion.

Then I paused. Without noticing, I had just gone through a quick kata of some martial art I didn't know.

"Huh...thats interesting," I muttered.

I manifested a pair of tonfa and went through a set of kata.

"Huh…"

I switched through a number of different weapons and found I could use them all perfectly, including a number of guns (silenced of course) and even gun kata, which was cool.

"Well, thats handy," I said with a grin, ""Built in skills. Wonder if Miss Militia had that?"

I stared down at my power, currently in the form of a rather bulky looking pistol, before turning to the door.

"Well then, lets get going," I said, spinning the gun around my finger and slipping it into the holster at my hip, "Time to see the nightlife in my new home."

And done. Well, that was certainly interesting. I wonder how Bats'll react to the new masked crimefighter? One that uses guns at that. Should be interesting.

At its core, Tom's power is the same as Miss Militias, mixed with a touch of Ubers. He can use any weapon he creates instinctively and has a couple of CQC styles for good measure, although they are all ones that work best with weapons. That said, he won't stand a chance against someone who has trained and gained their skills through hard work, at least not without getting some experience.

Anyway, I'm going to leave this here, so don't forget to leave a review!