[Life is Good] Chapter 50

Everything settled back into routine. Training, studying, hanging out with the guys—though, unfortunately, not as much as I’d like. Penny fit right in with the group, bonding fast with Kristi, which meant our evening study sessions were now a trio event. And at night, well… my Sunshine and I got up to all sorts of mischief.

I had a few concerns about potential pregnancy—I mean, we haven't even graduated yet—but Penny put my worries to rest by flashing me a pack of birth control pills. Not that I’m against kids or anything, but now is definitely not the time. Relationships need time to grow, and our current situation is... complicated. I also had a call with Spider-Girl, setting up our first joint patrol for the night after Penny leaves the country.

Not because she wouldn’t let me go—just didn’t want her sitting up all night, stressed out of her mind, while I was running around town. The whole patrolling thing, to me, is more of a training exercise. I don’t plan on going full crazed vigilante mode, scouring the streets every night like some kind of nocturnal bloodhound. Once my work with the police and SHIELD becomes more professional, I’d rather operate on-call, responding to alerts rather than aimlessly prowling the city. Jameson, annoying as she is, had a point—coordinated efforts with professionals would be way more effective than playing hero solo. Plus… responsibility. I don’t feel competent enough to act alone yet. Training doesn’t count as real experience.

The senior mutants successfully negotiated with the injured engineer. According to Jean, the woman was completely reasonable and had no prejudices against mutants. She was eager to accept both the job and living arrangements at the school, had no complaints about the salary, and signed an NDA without hesitation. Turns out, she’d already signed plenty of non-disclosure agreements in her life, and Jean didn’t detect any history of breaking contracts or betraying trust.

Valerie Blanc—thirty-six, top-tier education, spent her whole career at Hammer Industries, only to get screwed over by a backstabbing colleague during her first solo project. Classic office politics over funding. She burned all her bridges with her old employers and left in a storm of mutual resentment. Still, young, ambitious, and undeniably talented, Valerie figured getting a new job would be a breeze.

She was wrong.

Stark didn’t even let her apply. To this day, she has no idea why. Over at Oscorp, she messed up herself—accidentally implied that Stark had a monopoly on the market. Realized her mistake too late. Got the classic, “We’ll be in touch,” but that call never came. To make matters worse, her former boss at Hammer started spreading less-than-stellar recommendations about her. One thing led to another, and she was essentially blacklisted.

The day SHIELD took her in for testing, after my call to Coulson, Jean and Cyclops had already secured her agreement to work at the school. The SHIELD girls showed up, took her for a medical checkup, and brought her back a couple hours later. So, my job here? Done.

Meanwhile, McCoy and Banner were putting me through the wringer with every test imaginable. The biggest hurdle? My abilities interfered with most scans. Physical readings were near-impossible to take because of my absorption field. The best they could do was sound-based scans, which were… vague at best. But according to Beast, that was minor. Most of the experiments focused on, Let’s see what happens when you try this, while also studying the effects of my abilities beyond the energy absorption field.

Unlike Ghost Rider, I couldn’t power up my own body. No super strength, no crazy regeneration, no turning into a sexy, supermodel skeleton on fire. Creating ammo? Also a no-go. But what did work? Manipulating hellfire, demonizing weapons and armor—hell, demonizing any object, really. The transformation seriously boosted item’s durability and performance. Everything became harder, faster, stronger, better.

Even something as simple as an aerosol spray turned into a five-meter flamethrower. A neat trick, but I still wasn’t getting any personal physical boosts, which was frustrating. I had a theory—maybe because I was a knockoff Rider? A bootleg Spirit of Vengeance? I had access to their energy type thanks to Joan Blaze, but I wasn’t actually bonded to a Spirit of Vengeance, which probably played a big role in how the real Riders functioned. Things like turning into a flaming skeleton, generating infinite ammo, and probably not needing a personal energy reserve.

On the upside, my energy vision range was growing. Whether it was from frequent use or natural progression, I wasn’t sure, but I could now see up to eleven meters and forty-one centimeters. Not exactly world-shattering, but hey—forty extra centimeters is a big deal. Maybe my energy pool was growing too, but we had no real way to measure it other than my gut feeling.

Banner had an interesting take on it. She suggested that my energy vision was expanding gradually to avoid sensory overload. A sudden, massive jump in range could fry my brain. After all, I had no control over it—my energy sight was always on, even when my eyes were closed. And yeah, now that I thought about it, adjusting to it had been rough in the beginning. Even now, I was still getting used to seeing things that weren’t actually there.

Training? Training was hell.

Oyama apparently took my request for two hours of free time as some kind of personal challenge. Not only did she ramp up the intensity of my training, but she also started lecturing during exercises. Mini-lessons in combat theory, tactical applications, historical context—anything and everything. And at the end of each session, I had to summarize what I’d learned, explain my takeaways, and answer follow-up questions.

And heaven forbid she thought I wasn’t paying attention.

If she even suspected I wasn’t fully engaged, she would beat the absolute shit out of me. Kicked my ass straight into an empty battery state, then just a little further for good measure. After those sessions, the girls had to drag me to a charging station.

Penny, to her credit, hated it. She watched those training sessions with sheer horror. Looked at Oyama with rage. But she never tried to interfere, which I appreciated. We had a talk about it, and in the end, she accepted that if I wanted to survive, I had to train like my life depended on it. Because, well… it did.

On Penny’s third day at the school, Blob and Toad showed up.

Goddamn, was I happy to see them.

Fred bear-hugged the life out of me, rambling on about how much weight I’d lost—which, to be fair, I was never big to begin with, but hey, let him have his moment. We chatted for a bit, but I didn’t hold them up too long. They’d come to see their daughter, and I knew Fred would definitely be hitting up McCoy’s lab for a catch-up session.

Fred’s a goddamn legend. A total flirt. And an amazing cook. He once joked that his real mutant power wasn’t size or strength—it was his ability to make a god-tier meal. Slapped his belly and laughed his ass off.

Huh.

If I ever set up some boys' nights, I should definitely invite him.

Fred, Harry, me… Pyro and Iceman? Eh, maybe not. They’re cool, but I wouldn’t exactly call them drinking buddies. More like casual acquaintances. Scott? Absolutely not. That guy’s the definition of a buzzkill, plus Jean and Storm have him whipped beyond salvation.

Logan?

Nope. Wouldn’t come. And even if he did, he’d just sit in the corner, brooding. Also, drinking with someone who has a god-tier healing factor is a waste of alcohol.

Which got me thinking…

Maybe that’s why Logan’s so pissed off all the time?

Damn. Who else could I invite?

Colson?

…

Pfft. Okay, but seriously, why not?

Dude’s solid. Works for SHIELD, but he’s actually competent and not a total tool.

And hey, they didn’t even make me sign any paperwork for the prosthetic. That was… interesting. Either SHIELD changed their approach, or their analysts just cooked up a new recruitment strategy.

That day, Blob joined us for testing in the lab. McCoy had asked him to use his gravity manipulation on me, and he happily obliged. At first, he applied just a little pressure, but when he saw that I didn’t react at all, he started increasing the intensity.

And, well… nothing.

Gravity felt exactly the same.

It probably looked ridiculous—Blob standing there, concentrating, while I just stood across from him, completely unaffected. No flashy effects, no cinematic cutscenes—just the tiles cracking beneath Fred’s feet. I even jumped a couple of times, did a few squats, looked at McCoy, and shrugged. My energy container was filling up, sure, but that was it. I wasn’t particularly impressed.

Unlike the two nerds who were practically vibrating with excitement.

Fred and I exchanged confused looks—thank you, Fred, for making me feel less like an idiot—and Banner finally explained what was happening.

“You’re ignoring gravity, Toby!”

And? Ooooooh! Aaaaaah!

“You get it?” Jenny grinned at my dumbfounded expression. “You’re unconsciously absorbing gravitational force. If you ever learn to control it, you could completely negate gravity at will. Not only that, but you’d be able to recharge your container much faster, without relying on a charging station.”

And just like that, my brain was already picturing myself flying. Dodging, weaving through the air with a jetpack. Damn… too bad my levitation is virtual, like that joke about a virtual million dollars and three hookers.

We finally got the gang together!

True to her word, Yuriko sat a few tables away, stoically “keeping watch” for three hours. Honestly, after spending time at home, I didn’t think this was necessary, but she wasn’t taking any chances. Last time I let you out of my sight, you showed up on a hellfire bike with a woman who looked like a burning skeleton. It’s not that I mind, but I’d rather see firsthand how the hell you’re pulling this off. Then, in an ultra-rare display of emotion, she almost smirked. Almost.

The lineup: Harry, Flash, Parker, Penny, me, and… Gwendolyn Stacy, who had officially joined the school’s TPO trio—Thompson, Parker, Osborn. I, being the comedic genius that I am, pointed out that they were now STOP, which earned me a hiss from Thompson and an elbow to the ribs from Harry.

We had a great time. The guys shared what they’d been up to, and I told them bits and pieces of my own life. They, of course, ganged up on me, demanding a live demonstration of my mutant abilities. I dodged that bullet, saying that it was too personal for mutants to showcase their powers in public spaces. I was pretty sure I heard Yuriko snort from her table. Yeah, definitely eavesdropping.

Then Gwen decided to tell the story of how Salamander had saved her.

That, my friends, was a ride.

I started sneaking glances at my reflection, half-expecting to see Roboute Guilliman staring back at me. Or maybe the God-Emperor himself… 

It’s great when people are grateful, sure, but damn, that was excessive. Petra, meanwhile, was barely holding in her giggles. Penny, though? Oh, Penny.

She straightened her shoulders, beaming at me with a look that made my chest puff up. That look alone was worth more than any praise from a random (albeit adorable) girl.

Harry also threw in his two cents, giving Salamander a man-to-man nod of approval. He liked what I was doing, said it was an ‘honorable path’. Masculine solidarity and all that.

Flash, on the other hand, wasn’t exactly thrilled, but she didn’t go full disapproval mode either. Interestingly, she turned out to be a huge Spider-Girl fangirl and spent a solid ten minutes gushing about how amazing she was.

That’s when Parker started fidgeting like crazy.

I, of course, had to point it out, joking to Harry that his girl might leave him for Spider-Girl. Or, alternatively, steal her for herself. This got a round of laughter from Thompson, who casually declared, Hey, if she joins our relationship, I’m all for it.

Parker’s reaction? Red ears, narrowed eyes, a betrayed glare in my direction.

Beautiful.

We wrapped up the night in high spirits, heading back to school in the best of moods.

Meanwhile, Tobias’ “Auntie” was having a moment of her own.

Fräulein was… surprised, to say the least. Her nephew had somehow given Betty her arm back. Well, not given—replaced it with a new one.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t afford to investigate too closely. Too many SHIELD agents were now hovering around the boy’s inner circle. A double-edged sword—it provided a layer of security but also complicated her work. She’d have to be even more careful.

Taking a sip of her strong coffee, she allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. Even though her original plan to install a customized prosthetic had been derailed, things were still going well. The boy was gaining connections, making moves, learning how to navigate the world. He wasn’t rushing in blindly, but he wasn’t being passive either.

And, of course, an assigned surrogate was carrying his child. A girl, no less.

A future soldier?

Perhaps.

A worthy heir, if Tobias proved himself?

That remained to be seen.

She wasn’t ready to give up on that possibility just yet.

What did bother her was SHIELD’s unexpected win in this whole situation. She had hoped to sour Tobias on them, but Coulson, the agent she had dismissed as incompetent, had turned out to be very good at his job. She had lost a low-level operative in the process, but at least Dill remained blissfully unaware of how deep her meddling had actually gone. To Dill, it was just small favors for a friend, nothing more.

And the friend?

Well, she would be keeping her head down for a while—fully integrating herself into law enforcement, playing the honest cop until the heat died down. Nothing suspicious. Nothing out of the ordinary. SHIELD wouldn’t waste their time on a minor bureaucrat who’d simply been a little too ambitious.

They weren’t recruiting for Hydra, after all.

That thought made the woman chuckle into her coffee.

Looking down at her own right hand—her sculpted hand—she briefly considered what it would be like to have it replaced with a real one. Did she want her flesh and blood back?

Yes.

And no.

She had grown accustomed to it over the years. Besides, the mechanical arm had its advantages. More functions, hidden features. The lack of sensations? That had been easy to accept long ago.

And entrusting anyone else with her body?

Out of the question.

Elizabeth was just a cop, a mother, an ordinary woman. But her?

No, she wouldn’t place herself in anyone’s hands.

That said… acquiring a mutant with such abilities?

Now that was tempting.

A simple change of appearance, an easy disguise for field agents—that was just the beginning of what someone like that could do.

For now, though, there was no need to act.

The Japanese girl was training the boy.

SHIELD had staked its claim.

The police were fully convinced that they had come up with the idea of bringing supers into law enforcement.

And, more importantly, they had big plans for Tobias, believing that his example would attract even more useful recruits.

All she had to do now… was watch.

And focus on her real goals.

Police Station, Captain Stacy’s Office

"Mr. Brock, good afternoon. How can I help you?"

"Good afternoon, ma’am. I assume you've been informed that I’m with The Daily Bugle. I’m here about Salamander."

Captain Stacy let out a deep sigh and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Mr. Brock," she began in a tired voice, "I’ll be honest with you—I agreed to meet you during my work hours only because you had the courtesy to come in person. Your colleagues usually prefer to terrorize my officers over the phone. But I’ll tell you exactly what I tell all of them: I have no way of convincing Mr. Salamander to grant you an interview. That is not part of the police department’s agreement with him."

"I’m not asking you to, Captain." Eddie flashed his most charming, reassuring smile, raising his hands slightly in a placating gesture. "I just wanted to ask you to pass along a message—that Eddie Brock from The Daily Bugle would be extremely grateful for the opportunity to speak with him. We’ve actually met before, the night your officers assisted him in freeing the hostages." He extended a business card toward her.

"Hm… That’s doable." Captain Stacy took the card and placed it on her desk. "I’ll pass your contact information to Salamander, but I can’t promise you anything."

"Much appreciated, Captain!" Brock’s grin widened. "And forgive me for being a bit pushy, but my professional pride won’t let me leave without at least asking—would you mind answering a couple of questions?"

"I would mind." She cast a weary glance at the towering stack of paperwork on her desk and sighed deeply. Then, after taking in the sight of the rather handsome young man now looking just a little crestfallen, she softened, offering him a small smile and gesturing toward the visitor’s chair. "Ah, well, I suppose work isn’t going anywhere… and I don’t often have charming young men visiting my office."

"Thank you so much, Miss Stacy." Eddie’s smile turned dazzling as he sank into the chair. "And I don’t often get to interview such stunning police officers."

Captain Stacy threw him a playful look, laughing. "Careful with those compliments, Mr. Reporter—I may be a police captain, but I’m still young… and unmarried."

"And that only makes you even more irresistible, Captain…"