Chapter Text
FULL ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ
The standard of living seems to never matter until everyone is put on the same level. The amount of love one holds for others doesn't seem to factor in until they put their life on the line and are killed in action. The price a person pays is, ultimately, always determined by their worth in a system that denies them it. This is an unfortunate mantra that has been tried, tested and proven by each death you have faced at the hands of Invincible where you have died alone, screaming, as your resolve in a better tomorrow is shattered underneath blood-stained palms.
When the world shuts down and the GDA appears, poverty becomes a unifier rather than a distinction between the rich and the poor as people scramble for safe zones and places to hide from the Invincibles. The unification never lasts long enough for you to see if it continues: Each death in every timeline creates a newer, angrier version of you that remembers as the body tries to forget. Every plan fails. Everything you've loved, liked, or hated dies all the same. Right and wrong becomes an estimation of how far you are from death.
The plan this time is simple. In this timeline, you're going to befriend Invincible - and then rip his heart out.
At least, that was your plan six timelines ago. Someone always gets in your way with each new attempt to befriend or murder Mark. Attempt one, on death fifty-six, had him bleeding in the hallway before Amber bodily shoved your shaking hands away from him. The last you had seen was William's bag descending, then a burst of pain and terror at the horror in his eyes before you awoke with police at your throat. After much questioning, they had kept you until your cousin had come out to bail you out. The memories get murky after that, but you remember a visit from Omni-Man.
You had wished you'd died then.
Instead of death, you had received a beating so brutal that when doomsday had rolled around, a variant had picked you off without much preamble. You had awoken the next day (unfortunately) in science class, seated beside Mark who had looked at you with the same mixture of stupefied concern and partial disgust at the vomit and bloodstain on your sweater. You ignored him, opening your book to the notes on regeneration and marked an important fact that had changed the trajectory of your deaths.
Namely, only Mark Grayson could kill you.
And with that, you shut your book, grinned lopsidedly at the boy beside you and held out a hand. What was the saying? Ah yes. If you can't beat immortality, try, try and try again. Oh, and maybe save the world too - if it can be done.