Chapter 1.1.12 — Your New Body

“You didn’t let me finish telling you about your new body.”

It was Tuesday, and the day had dragged on while Emmett waited for the afternoon to get there.

He was finally standing back in the lab, back in section 006—the same white hospital-like section he’d woken up in a few days prior.

Dr. Venture fiddled with a wall monitor. When he was finished, it showed a 2D genderless drawing of a person with arrows pointing to various body parts. Clara was in a different lab, working on another project—Venture declined to say which.

Venture pushed up his glasses and continued. “As I was saying, you’ve been given a basic holistic upgrade suite, courtesy of Gnosis. Think of it as the training wheels for manufactured supers.

“Your new body has several enhancements, including enhanced muscular strength, speed, endurance, coordination, and reaction time. Your bones, ligaments, and even your skin are more resilient.” As Venture spoke, different arrows lit up with labels and explanations.

“Most of these abilities are at the peak of human athletic achievement and some will surpass even that. You are what’s known broadly as a Class 1-0: Minor superhuman capabilities with little to no training.”

Emmett’s head swam with questions, and he stammered as he thought of where to start.

“Can I train and get stronger?”

Venture chuckled at that, turning back to the monitor. “You can already lift a thousand pounds, run faster and farther than professional athletes. Even without training, you could fight a half dozen unpowered combatants.

“But yes,” Venture added, turning back to Emmett. “The compound you’ve been given is versatile and responds to stress by gradually improving your enhancements to a point. You won’t be punching out Paragon, no matter how hard you train.”

Emmett chuckled. Paragon was one of the leaders of the Summit of Heroes—a bona fide Class 5 super. He could stand toe-to-toe with all of the Antichampions, combined, and his very presence was enough to disarm otherwise catastrophic situations.

Aside from Paragon being the dictionary definition of good, the thought of any one super standing against him was absurd.

For a moment, Venture shared a smile. “If you train, you will get a little stronger and more capable.”

Emmett shook his head, still in disbelief and trying to think of what to ask next. But before he spoke, Emmett noticed something on the display.

“Mutagen-A… Is that what you gave me?”

“Yes.”

Emmett nodded. “Gnosis… My roommate works for them. I always thought they were a make-up company. I mean, the military looking building makes sense now. They’re really into biomedical enhancements and military applications?”

Venture nodded slightly, and silence settled between them. Emmett wasn’t sure if the doctor was pausing for dramatic effect or if he was choosing his words carefully.

Venture said, “Ever since the first supers rose, humankind has been… envious. Some legends say that the first alchemists and mages were inspired by their powers, that humans made the first spears to defend against them. Technology isn’t any different.

“Supers give us something to strive for, something to emulate, something to replicate.”

Emmett met Venture’s eyes, but couldn’t bring himself to ask the question that was now on his mind:

Why aren’t you a cape anymore?

Venture stared back, eyes hard, as if silently telling him not to ask.

Instead, Emmett asked, “If I’m a Class 1-0 super, does that mean I’m a registered cape now?”

Venture winced as if Emmett had slapped him.

“Did you go through a registration process?”

“No.”

“Did you undergo stringent testing and psychological evaluations?”

Emmett nodded. “I understand. I’m not a cape.”

Venture pushed up his glasses. “No. You’re not. And you would do well to remember that fact. You don’t just become a cape and the Division of Superhuman Affairs doesn’t approach just anyone to be one either—not unless you have an extremely potent gift.

“If you’re going to act as a vigilante, then you’ll be what’s known as a mask. Any actions you take will not be sanctioned by the DSA and the best you can hope for from local law enforcement is tepid indifference.”

As Venture spoke, a seriousness bled into his voice that unsettled Emmett. It was a voice of command and determination. In that moment, there was no doubt in his mind that the professor used to be a super.

And he clearly had something against masks.

“You used to be a cape,” Emmett said. “Not a mask.”

“Yes.”

“But you’re okay with me being a mask?”

“Perhaps I have… biases. But everyone starts off as a mask. If you stay in the business long enough and get the chance, I recommend you become a cape.”

“Why the bias?”

Venture sighed and his eyes narrowed. “There are rules in this business, and I don’t mean the rules that capes have to follow. All supers—capes, masks, villains—have certain standards of conduct and rules of engagement.

“We call these the Code. And in my experience, it’s new masks that most often break it.”

Emmett looked down at the floor—anywhere but looking in Dr. Venture’s steely gaze.

Emmett looked down at his right arm. The one that used to be just flesh and blood.

“What about my arm?”

Venture smiled, his intense stare cast aside as quickly and easily as a crumpled piece of paper.

“I was wondering when you would ask.”

~

Dr. Venture led Emmett out of section 006 and across the hall to section 002.

Emmett nearly breathed a sigh of relief when they left the sterile, white halls, and returned to the mechanical bunker-like aesthetic of the rest of the lab. The sensation caught him off guard.

He chalked the relief up to the hospital wing reminding him of his near-death experience. He’d read some accounts of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder—books on supers and the aftermath of their battles, but also books on war and trauma—so he knew what trauma could look like.

But feeling it was something else entirely.

The walls of the hospital-wing weren’t just white, they were blinding—almost nauseatingly so, like the few times he’d woken up hungover and braved the bright morning sun to get to class. And they felt oppressively narrow, even though Emmett was sure that they were the same dimensions as the other sections of the lab.

Emmett also knew that he should probably talk to someone about what he went through; he’d heard therapy brought up often enough that the thought occurred to him. But he pushed it aside, hoping that the uneasy feelings would fade.

When Emmett’s grandparents passed, it had hurt for a while. For months, if he was being honest. But over time, it got easier. The pain had faded, and eventually it was just something else that had happened in his life. Eventually, he was left with the good memories of them while the pain faded away like a shadow.

Emmett did his best to convince himself that this would be the same, while conveniently ignoring the fact that shadows never truly disappeared.

After all, he was starting a new phase of his life. He would have enough things to occupy his mind between training and vigilante-ing…

Capes and masks didn’t go to therapy, did they? The idea seemed kind of silly. It’s not like supers fought in the streets every day, but it was more days than not. Fights and violence were integral parts of being a cape or a mask. They probably got used to it. To them, it was probably just another day at school or work.

Better that Emmett get used to the idea now because he knew he wasn’t going back.

He wanted this, and he was prepared to train, to struggle, and to sacrifice to live that life.

So he did the best to leave all those other thoughts behind him as he followed Dr. Venture to section 002.

Venture paused at the old camera and display of door 002, tilting his head so it could scan his eyes.

“Thank you for verification. Please step through, Dr. Venture,” TINA said. The blast doors of section 002 slid open with well-oiled silence.

“I guess I’m seeing all of the lab today,” Emmett said with an equally awkward and excited chuckle.

“Almost,” Venture replied.

Section 002 of the lab looked like more of the bunker aesthetic that Emmett was familiar with.

Venture led them through the halls, and Emmett was overcome with the feeling that this wing was almost identical to section 003, even down to the layout and monitor-riddled testing hub.

Emmett said, “So, section three is for testing energy-based applications… Section six is biomedical… Section two is mechanical? What’s section five, aerospace?”

“Five is our training and simulation room. Four is the armory,” Venture replied without looking back.

“What about section one?”

“Living quarters.”

Emmett almost scoffed. It seemed ridiculous at first to think about Dr. Venture and Clara living in the lab—almost as ridiculous as a teacher living at school or a cashier living in the store instead of going home.

But now, knowing that Dr. Venture was a former cape in hiding, it made total sense.

~

Dr. Venture led Emmett to the testing hub of section 002. For a moment, he could almost imagine he was going to a normal afternoon at his internship.

Until Venture told TINA to turn on the displays.

Instead of schematics for heat sinks and batteries, the displays showed a schematic view of Emmett’s arm—the skin was gone, showing all the metal, joints, pistons, and actuators in their mechanical glory.

Just like in the display summarizing his body’s enhancements, additional details popped up on screen: A blend of tungsten and titanium alloys stood in for bone while electroactive polymers similar to bulletproof fabrics took the place of muscle, tendons, and ligaments.

Emmett read each paragraph with growing entrancement until he came to the section detailing how his arm connected to the flesh and bone of his new body: The metal frame of his arm actually extended into his collarbone, shoulder blade, and a portion of his ribs while the artificial muscle blended similarly into nearby flesh.

Venture must’ve followed his eyes. “Part of the reason for your other enhancements is that normal bones and muscles couldn’t safely support your arm. Even with built-in regulators, all it would take is your arm to bend or exert force in an odd way and you could break your spine. Now there’s very little chance of that.”

“Wait, wait, wait…” Emmett tried bending his arm around backwards or in circles, but he couldn’t get it to bend in any weird way—it felt normal. “Are you saying I should be able to bend my arm differently?”

Venture smirked. “Your arm is one of the most advanced prostheses I’ve designed. Of course it’s regulated. For now, it will only function as a biological arm would, which means you’re not double-jointed and that its strength is limited to what your physical body can handle. Think of it as a safety precaution.”

“Class 1-0.”

“Roughly.”

Emmett followed the diagram to a zoomed in view of the artificial muscles that showed dense clusters of polymer.

“And those are nerves?”

“Very good,” Venture replied. “They act both to regulate the strength of the limb and to give you finer motor control.”

Immediately, Emmett thought about modifying his arm so he could test its real limits. Could it push the limits of a class 1 super?

Emmett suppressed a smile—it didn’t work.

“What?” Venture asked suspiciously.

Emmett shrugged. “Just thinking ahead.”

Venture raised an eyebrow. “Don’t get any ideas about disabling the regulators. I’m serious about accidentally breaking your spine. Injure yourself badly enough and not even Gnosis can make you a cape.”

Emmett sighed.

Next time, he thought.

Then something else caught his eye: There were empty pockets in his mechanical arm.

“What are those?”

Venture fiddled with a setting on the screen, and the schematics of his arm changed shape. Now it looked thin and malnourished—the muscles nearly flat against the bones and the joints knobby in comparison.

Venture said, “Your synthetic muscles are much stronger and more efficient than normal ones—even ones enhanced by Mutagen-A.” He changed the schematics back to their original view. “These empty pockets give your arm a more natural look. They also have other potential uses…”

Emmett was already ahead of Dr. Venture. The empty pockets were reinforced with walls of polymer—they were actual pockets.

“I can store things in there!” Emmett said. “Weapons or something defensive…” His thoughts went even faster, thinking of stuffing his miniature radio locator inside.

Again Venture smirked, but this time the smile stayed on his face instead of retreating.

“I thought the same thing. With some experimentation, your arm could be modular—possibly even swapping components out on the fly.”

Emmett’s heart was racing.

“What do you have?”

~ ~ ~