Chapter 1: Weirdo
Summary: During his battle with the Denominator of the Universe, Caped Baldy gets punted to the moon. Not a problem! With a bit of eyeballing, he launches himself right back to Earth… sort of.
Chapter 1: Weirdo
In orbit around Earth, amid the broken and mangled husks of satellites and spacecraft, the Simurgh silently watched over the planet with dull eyes. The Endbringer, an engine of conflict and destruction, was performing low-intensity scans of the planet while she hibernated.
Of the Simurgh’s known abilities, precognition and postcognition were the most devious tools at her disposal. She had turned schemes around on their makers; made monsters of saviors; and ignored the cries of millions before their ends inevitably came. It was no surprise that many cultures had cursed her with variations of the name Hope Killer – inevitable demise.
Consequently, when a streak of light suddenly tore straight through her body, it was no exaggeration to say that she had been blindsided.
The Endbringer, a near-instant after the collision, activated all her emergency measures and released the cycle-mandated restrictions on her powers. For the first time in her existence, the Simurgh felt an emotion akin to shock, and right after, rage. Never before had she been so insulted, so humiliated, so... vulnerable.
Just before her retribution was brought to bear, however, the Simurgh, in her unmatched capacity to process data, realized three things. The first was that there was an innocuous looking bald man careening toward the atmosphere of the planet. Second, and arguably most important, was that her core had shattered. Last, as she lost control and tumbled forward with the momentum of the impact, was that she was dead.
***
From a smoldering crater in what was up until a few minutes ago the only nice park left in Brockton Bay, Saitama stepped over the edge with a triumphant smile on his face, covered in ichor and feathers. The smile slowly vanished, however, after a quick look at his burning surroundings. There was no wrecked spaceship floating in the sky and no equally demolished city, save the hole.
Instead, there was a small crowd of sweaty joggers and old people ogling him like a weirdo. Given the muck he was covered in, he couldn’t blame them. Saitama guessed he had miscalculated the landing. Since park benches weren’t usually on fire, and trees weren’t planted at forty-five degree angles, he probably ruined a lot of property too.
“Crap… I didn’t make it,” Saitama said. A kid started crying before his mother wrapped her arm around his mouth.
Saitama coughed into his fist. He asked no one in particular, “Can someone point me to City A? Uh, I mean, what used to be City A? There are some aliens I have to beat up.”
Someone screamed and panic ensued.
Everyone made a break for it, pushing and pleading for their lives, god, or really, just anything in general. The scramble got so bad that people were knocking each other over left and right. He saw an old lady get shoved to the floor and start crawling before an even older couple grabbed her arms and dragged her away. By the time Saitama realized he should have said something, the park was empty, save for the barking dog left tied to one of the benches.
Well, its not like he wasn’t used to bad PR at this point, so what was a little more?
“Guess I should go too,” he muttered to himself. He sort of left that boss alien hanging. If he was late, the other heroes could probably handle it. Where property damage was involved, Saitama made it a point to not be around when the police showed up. He didn’t get very far before a red blur cut him off. He kept his distance though.
“Hey stop!” the red-costumed man said. “What happened here? Did you do this?”
From the way the red guy kept his profile low, tense, along with his terse attitude, Saitama realized with dawning horror he might be held responsible for all the damage. It was the meteor incident all over again.
“Well, uh, how should I put this?” Saitama idly pulled a few feathers from underneath the hem of his glove, trying to buy time for an excuse. He was drawing blanks. “Yes?” Saitama tried, and the red man tensed a fraction more at his admission of guilt. “I mean no!” Saitama said. “It was the other guy’s fault. Borgus, I think. He’s the one who kicked me into space. I tried to land back on his spaceship, but I missed.”
A guy in full armor flew in but kept to the skies. Lightning danced off of the lance he was holding, but he kept it lowered at his side. He had his shield up, however.
The guy in red tilted his head, almost as if he was listening to someone. “So this alien, Bogus,” he said. “Did he give you anythi–”
“Boras,” Saitama corrected.
“Bor-ass,” the red guy repeated, nodding his head. “That’s right. I’m sorry. Now, are you on anything right now? Any medications?”
“No.”
The red guy kept going, as if he were reading from a script. “I know things look bad right now, but the Protectorate can help you. We’ve helped people come back from all kinds of bad situations. Even worse than this. It’s not too late. A few more of my friends are coming, is that okay? We only want to help you.”
Saitama had caused enough collateral damage before to realize when somebody was talking about the cops. With a half-hearted apology, he ran.
***
The fires that still lingered were subsequently blown out as an explosion of air rocked the park, knocking Velocity on his back and sending Dauntless spiraling through air before he managed to correct himself.
“Shit!” Velocity cursed as he stood back up, stumbling. “What the fuck was that?”
“Shaker effect?” Dauntless offered through their communication network, lowering his lance once it was clear the weirdo had dipped. “Maybe a Tinker devise? He mentioned a spaceship.”
“You bought that?” Velocity sounded surprised.
“Hell no, but who knows what that guy was on. Have you heard half the things Squealer says when she’s plastered? It kind of fits.”
“Whatever he’s on, or whoever he is, it’s clear he’s a dangerous element,” a voice interjected through their helmets, causing both of them to unconsciously straighten. “If not dangerous, then at least reckless. Regardless, wait for Armsmaster to arrive – ETA five minutes. Once he clears the scene, coordinate with the fire department from there. We’ll issue a bulletin once our thinkers go over the footage.”
***
(AN: Hello! Thank you for reading!
A few things about this story: each chapter will be around 1000 words. This is so I stay motivated and consistent with updates, which are every week. The exact day might change though depending on my schedule. Although it’s not immediately clear, this story has some AU elements. Given the length of each chapter, not a lot of time will be spent on world-building, however. Last thing, despite the beginning scene, this is NOT a story about how Saitama stomps everybody. Like OPM, it’s the character interactions that I’m interested in.)
Chapter 1: Weirdo
In orbit around Earth, amid the broken and mangled husks of satellites and spacecraft, the Simurgh silently watched over the planet with dull eyes. The Endbringer, an engine of conflict and destruction, was performing low-intensity scans of the planet while she hibernated.
Of the Simurgh’s known abilities, precognition and postcognition were the most devious tools at her disposal. She had turned schemes around on their makers; made monsters of saviors; and ignored the cries of millions before their ends inevitably came. It was no surprise that many cultures had cursed her with variations of the name Hope Killer – inevitable demise.
Consequently, when a streak of light suddenly tore straight through her body, it was no exaggeration to say that she had been blindsided.
The Endbringer, a near-instant after the collision, activated all her emergency measures and released the cycle-mandated restrictions on her powers. For the first time in her existence, the Simurgh felt an emotion akin to shock, and right after, rage. Never before had she been so insulted, so humiliated, so... vulnerable.
Just before her retribution was brought to bear, however, the Simurgh, in her unmatched capacity to process data, realized three things. The first was that there was an innocuous looking bald man careening toward the atmosphere of the planet. Second, and arguably most important, was that her core had shattered. Last, as she lost control and tumbled forward with the momentum of the impact, was that she was dead.
***
From a smoldering crater in what was up until a few minutes ago the only nice park left in Brockton Bay, Saitama stepped over the edge with a triumphant smile on his face, covered in ichor and feathers. The smile slowly vanished, however, after a quick look at his burning surroundings. There was no wrecked spaceship floating in the sky and no equally demolished city, save the hole.
Instead, there was a small crowd of sweaty joggers and old people ogling him like a weirdo. Given the muck he was covered in, he couldn’t blame them. Saitama guessed he had miscalculated the landing. Since park benches weren’t usually on fire, and trees weren’t planted at forty-five degree angles, he probably ruined a lot of property too.
“Crap… I didn’t make it,” Saitama said. A kid started crying before his mother wrapped her arm around his mouth.
Saitama coughed into his fist. He asked no one in particular, “Can someone point me to City A? Uh, I mean, what used to be City A? There are some aliens I have to beat up.”
Someone screamed and panic ensued.
Everyone made a break for it, pushing and pleading for their lives, god, or really, just anything in general. The scramble got so bad that people were knocking each other over left and right. He saw an old lady get shoved to the floor and start crawling before an even older couple grabbed her arms and dragged her away. By the time Saitama realized he should have said something, the park was empty, save for the barking dog left tied to one of the benches.
Well, its not like he wasn’t used to bad PR at this point, so what was a little more?
“Guess I should go too,” he muttered to himself. He sort of left that boss alien hanging. If he was late, the other heroes could probably handle it. Where property damage was involved, Saitama made it a point to not be around when the police showed up. He didn’t get very far before a red blur cut him off. He kept his distance though.
“Hey stop!” the red-costumed man said. “What happened here? Did you do this?”
From the way the red guy kept his profile low, tense, along with his terse attitude, Saitama realized with dawning horror he might be held responsible for all the damage. It was the meteor incident all over again.
“Well, uh, how should I put this?” Saitama idly pulled a few feathers from underneath the hem of his glove, trying to buy time for an excuse. He was drawing blanks. “Yes?” Saitama tried, and the red man tensed a fraction more at his admission of guilt. “I mean no!” Saitama said. “It was the other guy’s fault. Borgus, I think. He’s the one who kicked me into space. I tried to land back on his spaceship, but I missed.”
A guy in full armor flew in but kept to the skies. Lightning danced off of the lance he was holding, but he kept it lowered at his side. He had his shield up, however.
The guy in red tilted his head, almost as if he was listening to someone. “So this alien, Bogus,” he said. “Did he give you anythi–”
“Boras,” Saitama corrected.
“Bor-ass,” the red guy repeated, nodding his head. “That’s right. I’m sorry. Now, are you on anything right now? Any medications?”
“No.”
The red guy kept going, as if he were reading from a script. “I know things look bad right now, but the Protectorate can help you. We’ve helped people come back from all kinds of bad situations. Even worse than this. It’s not too late. A few more of my friends are coming, is that okay? We only want to help you.”
Saitama had caused enough collateral damage before to realize when somebody was talking about the cops. With a half-hearted apology, he ran.
***
The fires that still lingered were subsequently blown out as an explosion of air rocked the park, knocking Velocity on his back and sending Dauntless spiraling through air before he managed to correct himself.
“Shit!” Velocity cursed as he stood back up, stumbling. “What the fuck was that?”
“Shaker effect?” Dauntless offered through their communication network, lowering his lance once it was clear the weirdo had dipped. “Maybe a Tinker devise? He mentioned a spaceship.”
“You bought that?” Velocity sounded surprised.
“Hell no, but who knows what that guy was on. Have you heard half the things Squealer says when she’s plastered? It kind of fits.”
“Whatever he’s on, or whoever he is, it’s clear he’s a dangerous element,” a voice interjected through their helmets, causing both of them to unconsciously straighten. “If not dangerous, then at least reckless. Regardless, wait for Armsmaster to arrive – ETA five minutes. Once he clears the scene, coordinate with the fire department from there. We’ll issue a bulletin once our thinkers go over the footage.”
***
(AN: Hello! Thank you for reading!
A few things about this story: each chapter will be around 1000 words. This is so I stay motivated and consistent with updates, which are every week. The exact day might change though depending on my schedule. Although it’s not immediately clear, this story has some AU elements. Given the length of each chapter, not a lot of time will be spent on world-building, however. Last thing, despite the beginning scene, this is NOT a story about how Saitama stomps everybody. Like OPM, it’s the character interactions that I’m interested in.)
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