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Fix-ItEvil Main CharacterPowerful Main CharacterActually Uses GrammarBody HorrorEvil Main Character is not a joke guysTortureExperimentationMeta knowledgeMain character thinks he's smart but really isn't

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Published:2025-05-14Updated:2026-02-14Words:84,637Chapters:72/?Comments:112Kudos:232Bookmarks:61Hits:20,547

A Warlord's Rise

Anonymous_Wizard

Summary:

A fan of Worm is given the Worm CYOA by [irrelevant cosmic BS] and arrives in Worm in the body of a teenager. He is convinced of his own superiority and intellect, and has been given an extraordinarily overpowered suite of abilities. Can he work around a massive ego and take control of Brockton Bay, while also preventing the destruction of the world that occurred in canon?

This story does assume you've read Worm. I feel like that shouldn't be a disclaimer I have to make, but it is, apparently.

Chapters are generally ~1000 words and are posted once a week. Feedback is always appreciated!

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Jungle

Notes:

This work is based on a combination of two things:

Me really hating the way Worm ended, and the Worm CYOA I did a few weeks back.

I created this guy with some absolutely bullshit powers, and then set out an outline for what he would do with them to fix Worm and stop the world from being so pointlessly grimdark. On a whim, I started actually writing the story.

30,000 words and two weeks later, I decided to start posting it.

Disclaimer: I haven't read Ward and have no intention to. I have the cliff notes from the Worm wiki, but that' s it. So, there is going to be a certain lack of any weirdness established in that later entry to the series.

We'll see how it goes!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

April 8, 2011. The day of the start of Worm.

I woke up from my dream. No, not a dream. I twisted my head to my right, expecting my light skin and perhaps a few of the blonde hairs that covered my head. Instead, I saw deep tan skin, and reaching up to my head, pulled out a few ink-black hairs. Definitely not a dream.

Leaping up, I threw off the blanket, expecting to leap from my bed. I desperately reached out to grab it again, as I realized where I was sleeping. The ratty blanket froze as I reached for it, barely stopping before it got the chance to fall into a nasty puddle of God-knows-what. I used the telekinesis, and, straining to concentrate, returned it to my hand.

Apparently, I was a telekinetic. I vaguely remembered picking that option, before arriving here, in Earth Bet. No, no! I was always in Earth Bet, I'd lived here my whole life, scraping enough to get by out of shitty jobs and the charity of helpful strangers. But I just woke up with powers! This would change every-

No, I remember now, I picked these powers, what else were-

Unthinkingly, as I scrambled internally, trying to unravel the thoughts that half-formed in my mind, I found a knot of something in my brain, shaped vaguely, to my senses, like a button. Blindly, I pressed it.

I woke up from my dream. No, not a dream. I twisted my head to- wait. I've done this before. Still laying on the ground, I reached into my brain, testing my theory.

I was wrong, I realized immediately. Maybe one day, I would gain the ability to loop time at a whim, but something about this was just… off. I pressed the button again, but this time I did so slowly, reaching more concentration to see-

Pain. Blinding white pain. I snapped away from the button, and it vanished. Was I- was that 'button' just inflicting severe enough brain damage that I died? Was that the reset condition? I wasn't going to test that theory, I decided immediately. Not worth the risk of dying more permanently, especially if, if I remembered correctly, I had successfully prevented myself from aging three ways in that strange site.

So, telekinesis and potentially looping time. What else might I have? I tried to remember the choices the Other Me had made before taking over my body, the choices I made before getting sucked into this poor guy's body.

I was starting to get a headache from all this circular thought. My mind started to withdraw-

No, no, no. Unacceptable. Other Me, as I(we?) decided it made the most sense to call the dimensional foreigner, dissolved those streams of thought by pure force of will.

I'd always been a very smart guy, in both iterations, and Other Me in particular had spent years meditating and taking control of himself. We could handle this, in all likelihood. God, I hoped so.

I breathed in, still laying on my side, and remembered. Biokinesis, yes, internal and external. What were the limits, though? I opened my eyes. Touch only, certainly, although if I remembered correctly... hm. Telekinetically, I vaguely remembered that despite what I'd chosen, I'd simply weakened the Manton Effect on my telekinesis, not removed it like I'd initially planned. Objects wouldn't stop being manipulatable just because they were in or near people, but I wouldn't be able to just start yanking hearts out of chests. What else, what else? Immunity to disease and radiation, and a few more things I couldn't remember. My mental speed was increased to an obscene degree, and I thought I had perfect memory, though... Perhaps that will only kick in for future memories.

And then my last power, one titled simply "Avalon". Massive regeneration, unlimited stamina, and a mild empathy effect with nature. But the main effect, the one that led me to picking it, was what had my mind racing. I could train anything, with no upper bound. Shit, that would mean so much fun stuff for me to play with.

Holy shit, my eyes widened. My powers defy entropy. I'd forgotten about that particular quirk, intended to go hand-in-hand with the varying methods of immortality I'd tried to ensure for myself. I set that aside for now, however, as that would only really be useful in the long term.

But, as I wracked my memory and came up with no knowledge of any of my other selections, I did remember three last things, before what I knew would be little to no more memory.

The first was that no matter what I said, without utterly unshakeable evidence, no one would believe me about what knowledge I had on... what, exactly?

The second was that I would receive a copy of everything related to the fiction my life had been set in, to serve as a backup, on my lap…top. Fuck, I had a computer? When did that happen? Was that a choice he made? Okay, I'd get there eventually. But I'd get that backup, probably within a week?

The third thing I remembered, was that I had no idea what the fuck I was supposed to be doing. I had lost all foreknowledge until that backup arrived. I had no idea who the main character was, what would happen, what precautions to take, nothing. Fuck.

I thought for a while, before I made my mind up. For today, at least, Original Me would take over autopilot. I'd managed to get into Winslow, which would almost certainly be the path to better opportunities in life. Fuck it, I wasn't abandoning months of work, not even with something this major happening.

I pulled the ratty blanket off my body, and folded it carelessly. I would be getting it out in a few hours, who cared about little things like that. I sighed, as I failed to exert the control I could over my life, and shoved the blanket into the bottom of the bag. I stalked out of my little corner of the city, a forgotten piece of scaffolding from some infrastructure project or another on top of a half-abandoned cheap apartment building. It would take thirty-five minutes to walk from here to Winslow.

I strode, as always exuding the confidence of a man who knew how to handle himself, then I hunched, avoiding noti- No. I straightened, and I strode. I didn't walk, I moved with purpose. I was making a mistake, the route to life was avoidance, no it was confidence, no it was survival, no it was victory, no, no, no.

Who was I? No, no, there was a middle ground here. Other Me had some things right, but Local Me had so much more experience with this, but he was wrong, but he was wrong, but I was wrong. Bah, I'm still a child, I have time to figure this out, no we're practically an adult, biology does not bend to mind, but it does, but it does not.

I hope this stops soon.

Notes:

So there you go!

This guy is a trip, and I found the internal jousting fun to write. I'm not sure how easy it is to read, though.

I'm also concerned about early pacing, which you'll undoubtedly see in later chapters, but this is still very much a first draft, and one I wrote on accident at that, so I think it's forgivable.

This chapter is mostly an introduction to his powerset and the rules I'll be operating under for the first week of story time. It keeps him from laying plans, (which is what he did in the original outline) which in turn prevents him from intervening in early Taylor(which, again, he did in the original outline), which does other things later.

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Published:2025-05-14Updated:2026-02-14Words:84,637Chapters:72/?Comments:112Kudos:232Bookmarks:61Hits:20,545

A Warlord's Rise

Anonymous_Wizard

Chapter 2: You're Gonna Go Far, Kid

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

I arrived at Winslow at precisely three minutes before class began, wincing as I railed at myself for lateness. No, that was unfair, I was perfectly on time.

Classes shot by. I knew this material already, even the weird esoteric bits. Why hadn't I picked more interesting classes? I didn't know this material until I got implanted with someone who'd actually already received an education.

Ah.

I learned my name, however, which I was shocked to realize I'd lost. I was, apparently, Mark. That was a stupid name, I agreed with myself. I doubted I'd keep it.

Introductions went easily. Several people tried to talk to me, but I could see them all for the shallow creatures they were. I received a thousand compliments for my looks, as apparently I was improbably attractive, for how I had lived for the best decade and a half. I laughed with them, but I watched them, trying to see the friend groups and the cliques as they reacted to me, trying to place me in a batch.

I saw for just a brief moment, one of them recognize the calculation, as she performed it in turn. She might be interesting. I gave her a near indiscernible nod, and she gave me a wink.

I remembered Sophia Hess's name, even as the other ones washed over me.

This memory thing is a sucker's game. I'm not remembering a fraction of what I could if I was retaining everything. I mean, even if these are all our powers amount to that would be great, right? Yes, but I was expecting something more. Ah well, I have time.

I did notice a few students ignoring me, and that piqued my interest. One of them was a kind of gangly girl, who had the look I'd recognized in my older brother a year ago. My mind sped through possibilities, before settling on the simplest one. She was being bullied, and with that kind of body language it was systemic and protracted. I wondered who was doing it, and resolved to watch her.

I hated bullies. I hated them so very much my vision nearly turned red when I finally realized what was happening. No, we needed to be calm, No, rage was the appropriate response here.

I realized, suddenly, that I was pushing aside the Local, now that I was in an environment I recognized. I wondered, briefly, if that would be how our little crisis was resolved. It'd make things easier, at least.

When lunch came around, a few groups came to talk to me. I considered it, especially the band of girls around Sophia's table, but instead I followed my curiosity. I went to see what the girl was doing. I watched her grab her food, and enter the bathroom. I counted the girls as they left, until it was only her. Interesting. Eating alone in the bathroom. This was much worse than I was picturing. Why did I care? I didn't, I was intrigued. I never bothered with this web of relations, so now that I had a way to read them with comedic ease, I wanted to watch a new environment.

I sat there, wondering at the absurdity of an hour-long lunch period, and watched. I watched Sophia's little band of sycophants walk towards the girls' bathroom, carrying bottles of various juices. Curious, though it did square the circle. I tilted my head, and tapped into telekinesis. Could I?

I reached over with a spectral hand, and, tentatively, spread a tingling feeling over the top of Sophia's back, as though she was being watched or lightly sprinkled on the neck by dust, which was what I was actually doing.

She angled her body in the same way I knew to, to view as much as possible with as little notice as possible. She grinned when she saw me, and sent a flirtatious wink my way. Her redheaded companion started at her friend's movement, and looked over to see me. I decided it would probably be better to react as though I was taken by them, and smiled slightly, as though I was slightly overwhelmed. I wondered if she'd fall for it.

Sophia, deciding whatever she wanted to do to Taylor would be less fun than squaring up the new guy, meandered over, somehow conspiring to allow her redheaded friend to take the lead.

My eyes carefully did not focus on any one of them or any one of their body parts. I wondered, briefly, if the vainer among them would feel slighted, and allowed myself a silent cheer of victory to see the redhead irritated by my almost casual once over of her.

Vanity was always a hilarious character flaw to take advantage of, no matter how you did it.

She spoke first. "New guy! I don't believe I caught your name when we were making introductions! What was it, again?"

Another winning smile. I wondered if she was a model. She shifted her body in a specific way I'd only ever seen in stupid photos, and a few deeply terrible "sexy" videos.

"I am Mark." Pause for effect. "And you are?"

Her face was so hilarious I had to bite my tongue to prevent myself from laughing. Delicious blood filled my mouth, as the indents in my tongue regenerated.

She was still taken aback by the time I swallowed the last of the blood, two full seconds later.

Eventually, she shook herself.

"I'm Emma Barnes. You may have heard of me?"

I took a shot in the dark.

"Yes, I think I heard you were a… hm. Model, was it?"

Her smile widened. Did she realize how creepy she looked? "Yes!"

Sophia, looking on in bemusement, stepped in. "Look, we heard there's a cockroach in the bathroom, and we want to drown her. You in?"

I raised both eyebrows, slightly. "The girls' bathroom? I believe there is no one there."

Sophia's face shifted into a knowing smirk, "and you know that how?"

"Know all possible threats before they fully form." I jabbered at her, inventing bullshit. "There are currently eight of you, assuming one of you pulls a weapon, move through crowd at precise angle to avoid. If all rush, I throw a kick at the middle most and run. Three boys in boys bathroom, one entered with a backpack. Tall, muscled, may be dangerous. If he assembled something, there is an exit there," I pointed, "two windows there," again I pointed, "And I know enough about the layout of this school to make for two other exits at least. At the moment, there are fourteen possible people who could be a danger to me, and none of them are in the girls' bathroom." I smiled, slightly, "Paranoia is a hell of a drug, and I'm very, very good at it."

God I loved lying. There were in fact fifteen people around and about, but my methods? Even without powers, that would have been bullshit. Evade through crowds of hostiles to evade a hostile with a weapon? Use a window to evade some manner of firearm? No, absolutely not.

But it sounded impressive, and it stopped them doubting me.

Sophia's grin vanished. "Damn, I'd hoped to get her. Shame. Did you see a girl named Taylor, at any point in lunch today?"

"I don't know who that is."

Sophia described the long-limbed girl to me, and I nodded wisely. "I believe she was going for the gym. Maybe she's hiding under the bleachers?"

"Wanna come with?"

I shook my head. "Too many people. I like it quiet." I leaned back on my little bench again.

Realizing I was done conversing with them, the posse walked off. The idiots trusted me. Why?

The rest of the lunch period passed in quiet silence, and when the bell rang, I watched Taylor come out of the bathroom, bag in hand. I stood up and walked over to her, carefully eyeing her. The instant she noticed me, she flinched, and started walking faster. Well, I wasn't going to bother with that, then. No point, even if the bullied would be exceptionally easy to recruit.

The rest of school was uneventful, and I walked out with the final bell. I had a shift at the convenience store in twenty minutes or so, which would hopefully go equally as uneventfully.

It did. I mean, I could describe in great detail the stupid fucking people who showed up and made the job miserable, but that's the standard experience, working in that kind of place.

By the time my shift ended, it was late. I needed to practice with my powers. I went to the Docks. No one would care, hopefully, that there was another poor kid wandering around the area. If they did care, it would be the perfect excuse.

Notes:

This might be my least favorite of the early chapters, and the one I'm mostly likely to rewrite.

Since Cregan was asking about it, here's the CYOA I used.

There's some mild questions of specific build choices Mark brings up later, which he trial-and-errors his way through, but if you want the full build, here.

aags, 8mhz, jwlb, g124, k0tu, aaek, kht1, myd7, l1un, ilp3, q4jr, aaca, 0s6z, sxhj, kloo, z4op, a019, kb60, aabc, aaam, pr2q, w0ll, 42jg, uh4g, fy08, 48m6, aagl, aaaq, pl4z, aagb, aaaj, x88q, aabb, pfjj, aapn, gmpq, xsyg, i003, aabx, 9gbp, l8bx, vrqv, s4ui, u4x5, rfs7, gjf9, jd1c, x1wn, m001, 4exl, 8cwa, e7iw, xv6q, aaaw, fw91, plxm, aawu, aawv, aaww, aawx, aawy, aaat, aaau, 68wo, aae5, aae1, 7otl, rzk9, t320, g4y9, t335, aaeo, b8h1, cpi7, etl7, t220, 974r, t102, 4tfy, aaa6,

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Published:2025-05-14Updated:2026-02-14Words:84,637Chapters:72/?Comments:112Kudos:232Bookmarks:61Hits:20,547

A Warlord's Rise

Anonymous_Wizard

Chapter 3: You're Dead

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

I walked down the old Docks, looking around the fading area. Christ, I'd never been in a city this bad. Well, I'd lived here all my life, there were worse districts by far.

I kept walking, moving quickly through the streets, trying to get out of the ABB's territory as quickly as possible, to get to the real slums, where not even the gangs bothered to go, most of the time.

As I turned a corner, a pair of young Asian men, probably Japanese but I wasn't sure, strutted up to me. One of them, the taller of the pair, grinned at me through a poorly set nose.

"What're you doing, fag?" he grunted, his thuggish demeanor clearly an affectation. Poor kid. I saw something off about his movement. Is he intoxicated? I wouldn't be surprised.

I furrowed my brow. Fuck this dumbass. "I see. Consider what you're doing here-"

His grin widened, and he and his buddy flicked out little pocket knives.

"I think," he interrupted, "we're gonna take a little tribute, and then we'll leave you here to show these other rich dumbfucks why they don't come to ABB territory."

I raised my stance, ready to move at the slightest hint of aggression. "I doubt that."

He jumped at me, his buddy only a little behind.

They had two weapons, I had at least nine. Additionally, mine were all attached to my body.

Shorty came at my hard, knife low. My hand caught a wrist, as I stepped back into a heavy stance, using the force of my rotation to slam my elbow into his. He screamed as I tore the meat on his bones and hyperextended his arm.

More importantly, he dropped the knife.

Nose came around his friend, his knife reversed to stab down at my head. I threw Shorty away and Nose's knife would have dug into my shoulder had I not sidestepped at the precise right time, allowing him to overcommit. He started to turn to stab me, and I stepped behind him, taking control of his neck. He started wildly stabbing behind him, trying to figure out where my leg was.

He didn't manage it before I finished applying the blood choke.

He'd be out for a few seconds at most, but I dropped him anyway. I turned to Shorty, as he scrabbled for his knife with his other hand. Carefully, I raised my shoe and stomped on his hand with as much force in my heel as possible. Eleven weapons, I guess, I mused, as the man's screams increased in pitch. I didn't bother picking up his knife, and raised my shoe again.

The heel shattered the bones in his neck, and I blandly watched his body paralyze. Maybe he'd be unlucky, and live. I doubted it. I turned around to see Nose gasping, as he picked his knife back up.

I wonder if I can… I reached my power within myself, and pushed. I felt a small nub on my left elbow begin to grow, until it was a tiny blade of bone, poking out of the skin. I grinned, as he stabbed at me, again.

I sidestepped, and rammed the new blade in my arm into his neck, registering his surprise as I pulled the short knife free, releasing a spray of arterial blood from the carotid.

I let my bone return to its normal shape, and turned around. I pulled Shorty's knife up with my telekinesis, and slashed it across both of the man's femoral arteries, which would lead to him bleeding out in minutes at most.

I walked out of the alley, grinning from ear to ear.

Notes:

First fight scene!

I'm pretty proud of this one, although I think it could be retuned to flow a bit better.

If you're curious, the nine weapons are:

Elbows

Knees

Hands

Feet

Head

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Published:2025-05-14Updated:2026-02-14Words:84,637Chapters:72/?Comments:112Kudos:232Bookmarks:61Hits:20,547

A Warlord's Rise

Anonymous_Wizard

Chapter 4: Insane

Notes:

Fuck it, I have a backlog.

Have a double update.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

I found an abandoned rooftop with only limited difficulty. The warehouse below was still empty, though it may have had drugs or something similar within. I didn't especially care.

I pulled out my shockingly high-quality laptop and, ignoring the concerns of where the hell it came from, I opened a new text file.

Title: Power Testing & Parameters.

Category One: Regeneration.

My tongue regenerated almost instantly when partially bitten.

Needs testing: Lost matter + negentropy + external biokinesis → Infinite material for growth?

What's the timeline on healing? Scabs? Blood?

What's going on with the brain?

Disintegration?

Category Two: Biokinesis(External)

Speed?→How fast can I pull off changes like that? Can I touch someone and turn their brain off, or does it take longer?

Knowledge?→Is it touch, or do I need to get a full fucking PhD to do this effectively? Probably more instinctual, but how far does that extend?

Need people(fuck, I'm an idiot) → probably go experiment on some racists.

Does need skin-to-skin → dumbasses' sleeves kept me from their skin, as did mine. Is this preventative for biokinetics, or just the weather?

Healing

Category Three: Biokinesis(Internal)

Def instinctual. I can kill myself, for sure.

It doesn't take much effort to rearrange material, but I don't know about more complicated procedures.

Can I cut out my systems? Make myself a sack of flesh, without any of the important organs being needed? I know I don't need to eat or sleep, but what else can I do?

Prep-wise, what can I do?

Skin can be enhanced, made tough, and I'll bet I can thicken organs and make musculature more pronounced and efficient with relative ease. Maybe not quite superstrength, but there's still a lot I can do here.

Can I futz with my senses? Super vision would be nice.

Oh shit, pain receptors. Can I turn those down/off?

Category Four: Time Loop

Don't bother, yet.

Category Five: Telekinesis

Shockingly easy, like another limb.

Max strength? → Get some weights, maybe, or some heavy scrap.

Oh shit, prep, what's the chemical limit? Can I make nukes happen by moving atoms?

Category Six: Avalon

That training ability is absolutely unfair. With it being anything, I have to do everything. Speed with powers, strength, can I train my regeneration? I don't need to sleep, luckily, so that's another 6 hours I can dedicate to this.

Plus, I don't lose stamina and I regenerate, which means I can train at levels and for lengths of time that would cripple real athletes.

I grinned as I saved and clicked the laptop closed. Not really hard or comprehensive work, but it gave me some starting ideas.

Immediately, I tapped into my telekinesis, and started stripping down the roof. What could I do? I pulled elements of the roof out, orbs of old brick and concrete forming. I pulled one of them to me and tried to slightly cut it. I reached for about two thirds of the way on the right of the orb, narrowing my eyes, and cut the entire orb in half. Shit. I suppose control isn't where it could be.

I opened the laptop to make a quick note, then shut it again.

Okay, I'd keep trying, but for now I would leave that there. This was just evaluation, not improvement.

Next, I turned my attention inward. Carefully, I sat down on the gritty building, cross-legged, and turned my eye inward. Briefly, I remembered the Litany against Fear, and chuckled into the night. I supposed I was turning the inner eye, though not towards the path fear had passed.

Entertained, I turned my mind towards silence. I heard the heartbeats pound in my chest, and watched the blood carry oxygen towards the outer elements of my body.

I grinned, and felt the muscles in my face pull, my skin wrinkle. In the center of my right testicle, I saw a small cancer beginning to take root, and ate it. I felt and prodded at every little piece of my body, feeling intuitively what was wrong, tuning it like an engineer.

I moved on, testing my muscles. I started thickening them without increasing their size, and added some flex to my tendons. This was easier than I expected. I turned towards the next project, size. As an experiment, I started to increase the size of my arms, but quickly hit a snag. For some reason, I couldn't. Grinning at the chance to test my regeneration, I turned to my left hand. Concentrating, I reduced the amount of material in the bone on my right forearm, and increased the amount in my left hand. I removed the flesh and added an edge, merging the fingers together into a blade of bone.

Reaching up, I cut down on my right arm, just below the wrist. Hot red pain erupted from the stump as my right hand fell to the ground. I watched, grinning madly through the pain, as the weakened bone repaired itself, and then the healing spread outward. The bleeding stopped in less than two seconds, and my hand slowly stitched itself together, returning to its original shape only nine seconds after it had flopped to the ground.

But the lost hand was still there.

Tentative, I reached over and touched it. I concentrated, and using both of the kinds of biokinesis I had, I absorbed the hand back into myself, it becoming a pile of goop in my stomach. My body immediately began dissecting it for proteins. I grinned.

I returned my left hand to its original shape, and placed the excess material in my stomach as well.

Casting my eyes about, I realized the sun was beginning to rise. That had taken all night? I stood up, realizing that I should have been stiff, and found it hard to move, after staying in one spot so long.

Benefits of powers, I supposed.

I grunted, realizing I had homework I should do. I sat back down on the rooftop, and got to work.

Notes:

This chapter is just setup, and mostly exists to put some ideas in your head and in mine.

It was pretty hard coming up with a name for this one.

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A Warlord's Rise

Anonymous_Wizard

Chapter 5: Perfect Disguise

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Saturday, I worked four hours, before returning to the roof I'd used last time.

I began by looking at cape names. I had about a dozen ideas, but found to my mounting frustration that they were all already used.

Atlas had been taken by a hero in Kentucky who was murdered by the Slaughterhouse Nine only a decade ago.

Abomination was listed as having existed, but the only information I could find was that she had tried to break into the Birdcage. Presumably, she succeeded.

Cadaver had been a cannibal who took the powers of the capes she ate in the early 90s. She ended up being killed by Alexandria after trying to eat Eidolon.

Strongman was actually still alive, a retired enforcer for some long-dead Chicago villain.

Form was a cape who had the ability to turn into any object she touched. She was still a hero in Toronto, and the forums speculated she had some variety of Thinker power.

Limbic didn't exist, so I made a note of that. If necessary, I would make that my name, but I was sure I could do better.

Butcher was already some kind of body-hopping villain who seemed to steal powers as he(she? they?) hopped into new bodies.

Christ, Hemorrhagia existed? She was a blood kinetic, so I supposed it was fair.

Catastrophic Organ Failure didn't exist, but that probably wasn't the name I wanted to choose.

Sanguine was another blood kinetic, and seemed to be a healer of some kind.

Skinslip was a self-skin kinetic, which was unfortunate because that would have been perfect.

Tyrant was taken by some third-rate Master in 1985 who got knifed by a woman he failed to fully control.

Frankenstein was a biokinetic from a few years ago who Bonesaw had allegedly murdered for "infringing on her brand." There appeared to be some doubt about whether it had actually been her, as his death had occurred a month before she'd even been a member of the Slaughterhouse Nine.

Emperor was another dead Master, though he at least had lasted five years instead of maybe three months.

Doubting it would work, I hunted down the last name on my list. My eyes widened. Holy shit, how is that unused?

Well that solved that problem. I closed my computer, and stood, my fists clenching. Time for powers.

Systematically, for eight hours, I separated my hands and regrew them, until a pile of flesh sat before me. I used several methods: cutting, as I had initially, then using a bone to form a heavy butcher's knife, then carefully sawing with a bonesaw, and for the last four hours I just simply moved the mass in my wrists to my shoulders, letting my hands fall to the floor.

After that, I began tuning myself. I sat on a rooftop, naked as the day I was born. Slowly, over time, I stripped away my skin until I was a walking anatomy diagram. It was slow, careful work, but I had time. Somehow, my skin seemed to realize what I was doing and stopped regenerating early into the process, but it still took around and hour to create my cape form.

Unfortunately, blood immediately began spilling out of all of my freshly unveiled arteries, which I quickly decided would be bad for my health. I began moving them, which took a lot of effort.

After about twenty minutes of fiddling with arteries, I decided to try to fix my internals. I didn't need organs anymore if I could just keep my body working as intended, did I?

It took four hours. I took it slow, at first, and spent an hour carefully observing everything about my organs that I could, as well as using my computer to hunt down as much information on each organ as possible in that time. The next three hours were spent removing each organ, and carefully beginning to undertake their functions. I was maybe halfway done when I experienced an epiphany.

This really isn't worth it. It had been a good idea, but the amount of effort required to keep myself functioning without organs was just too high. Already, my functionality was impaired by having to manually do things the human body was designed to do automatically. Keeping my brain oxygenated without blood, for instance, was already a serious problem.

It turns out bodies have these things for a reason.

I spent the rest of the day reorganizing myself. I restored my key organs–heart, lungs, arteries, etc.–but moved them, sheathing them in highly dense flesh near the center of my body. I left them still connected to their functions, obviously.

I removed my digestive system, as I no longer required food, and spent time reorganizing my flesh. I removed my genitalia, my digestive tract, my stomach, and my intestines, and sealed over my anus, as they were now completely useless. In their place, I added deposits of flesh, to give myself material at all times.

I expanded the density of my musculature, and experimented with bones. They still grew too slowly to be useful for more than very close quarters, but that was plenty for now. I moved those onto the list of things to begin training in earnest. If I could use my bones in active combat, the level of danger I represented would increase massively.

I tinkered with my nervous system, removing the issues suffering catastrophic pain would cause. After a few minutes, I cut pain out of my nerves entirely.

I finalized my cape form, and slowly, carefully, I memorized it. I practiced forming it well into the night, until dawn. I practiced until Mark's body felt wrong, until I was a skinless humanoid.

I smiled into my black computer screen, watching the little muscles in my face pull my lips into shape, baring newly pearlescent teeth.

White and red, hm. They'll do. A bit heroic, but it should confuse some of those capes.

I nodded to myself, and stood up. Mark was dead, even if I would keep his form going until I got my information.

Now I was Warlord.

Notes:

And thus, the title is explained.

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A Warlord's Rise

Anonymous_Wizard

Chapter 6: Who Can It Be Now?

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

On Sunday morning, things changed. At around three in the morning, as I wound down from my experimentation, I mechanically opened my computer to check for information, saw the notification in my files, and closed it.

Wait.

Notification.

I opened my computer back up, and there it was, the full list of every word of the story. The grin that spread across my face would have put a serial killer to shame.

I read Worm in an hour, my mental power reading pages of 6-point font in seconds.

I closed the laptop and leaned back, considering.

Scion was a problem, but I was so unfathomably unable to even scratch him that it would be largely irrelevant until the Nine arrived. Leviathan would be perfect, though, and who wouldn't want to run the city? Coil's power was more bullshit than mine by far, and now I was curious how my time looping would affect it. It still wasn't worth testing, though.

But the Undersiders would be a much more immediate problem. I realized, with a sinking feeling in my gut, that Taylor's resolution to go out on campaign early hadn't happened. Stupid. No, it wasn't stupi- shut up. Being a little kind had cost me, and now I needed to act. Skitter was a force to be reckoned with, and if I couldn't have her on my side, conquering the city in first Coil's name and then my own would be wildly more difficult.

Fuck, I'd known I was operating on no information and I'd still risked doing anything! The butterfly effect was real, and now I'd have to tear her back onto the canon path if I wanted anything workable to occur. So, somehow I needed to cut off her heroism before she could get started, organize something like the Lung/Undersiders incident.

Wait. That happened Sunday night. Tonight. Perfect.

Okay, so I had time to figure it out. What could I do?

I knew where Lung would be, so if I just went there, I could replace her. Unacceptable. Taylor was too damn canny for me not to make sure she joined the Undersiders, joined me.

But how? Could I orchestrate some severe incident, a replacement for the bathroom incident to force her into going tonight? I doubted it. I'd need to toe the line and anger her without retraumatizing her, and I didn't believe myself capable of that level of specific emotional manipulation. I was smart, but I'd never been any good at reading people.

So I only had one real option: recruitment. But how? It might not be a bad idea to just talk to her, now that I thought about it. She was isolated, alone, and while she was paranoid, it was conceivable for me to get out of that with a little –Shit.– kindness.

Okay, what was the plan here? Lies en masse might work, but I didn't know how immune I was to Tattletale's power, and I worried that amount was zero. So I'd have to play for honesty, or at most a few key lies tying things together.

Taylor ran in the mornings, so I should be able to catch her. Rolling my shoulders, I shrank a good four inches, returning to Mark. I scaled down the building, my bag on my back, and hit the ground. I started to whistle but lost the tune in only a few minutes, meandering down towards Taylor's house and the Docks. I got lost a few times, as the exact positioning of her home wasn't quite clear, but eventually I worked it out.

It was maybe four in the morning. I took up a walk on a path that would run tangent to the main running area, trying to set it up so I'd see Taylor coming and be able to flag her down. I wandered the region for a while, long enough for me to lose track of time. While I was walking, I took the opportunity to begin separating pieces of myself internally, seeing if I could grow my mass by damaging organs and musculature. I could, but it was slow and inefficient. Still, it was passive growth, and some passive growth was better than none.

I spied Taylor taking a small break, slowing to a light jog. Carefully, I walked out and raised a hand, trying to gauge her reaction. She raised a hand back, and kept jogging, beginning to speed up. Well, that simply would not do.

"Taylor!"

She turned to me, slowing down, "What?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Why?" She stopped, but I could see her tense, long lines of muscle forming, as she readied to flee.

Fear, hm? Interesting. I looked around. I didn't see anyone else, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. I stepped forward and lowered my voice.

"You're a parahuman."

I had to give her credit for her reaction. She only allowed a secondary flicker of absolute shock and confusion to cross her face before locking down her reactions. If I hadn't been watching for it, I probably would have missed it.

"What are you talking about?"

"Bug control, yes?"

Her eyes widened a little, and her voice came out quiet and confused. "How?"

I grinned, and considered for a fraction of a second. Then, I spoke.

"Your house is too bug free, and the ones around here are being weird. They tend to avoid your home, except some species, when you are actively there. I saw a small fleet of spiders crawling into your building in little numbers only a week ago." I held up my hand as she started to respond and barreled forward. "This by itself doesn't mean much, but it does when taken to the logical extent of you being a parahuman. You are isolated, which tends to happen when someone is sufficiently traumatized to allow their powers to form. Whether the event caused your isolation or the isolation led to the event is none of my business. But, you're a parahuman with bug control, and the fact that no one at that shitty fucking school has a case of massive and persistent lice tells me most of what I need to know about your motivations. You want to be a hero soon, don't you?"

She nodded, numbly, "But-"

I grinned. "I was planning on going on patrol tonight, and I was wondering if another person who wanted to be a hero eventually might want to come with me. I only got my powers fairly recently, and I really want to go see if I can do something good with them. I figured you might feel the same?"

She frowned, "What can you do?"

"I'm a regenerator and biokinetic." I reached the nail on my thumb over to the pad of my other thumb, and slashed down hard. Blood welled out of the slit, which I showed her as the cut sealed over and I absorbed the blood back into my body.

"My powerset is unfortunately unsightly, and so I worry about the Protectorate. I also don't have a costume or anything yet, so I decided to try some independent work first. Do you want to join me?"

She breathed in, and responded.

Notes:

And thus, we enter the revision chapters, after SwiftBlitz pointed out some stuff I missed and I realized my original outline was boring as hell.

This chapter is a little iffy. Warlord going with the bulldozer approach makes sense for him, but Taylor doesn't feel quite right. She's too passive, I think.

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Chapter 804 - A warlords Rise