Sarah showed up at Marcus's apartment at 8 AM with coffee, bagels, and a laptop full of spreadsheets.
"We're doing this properly," she announced, setting everything down on his kitchen table. "Scientific analysis. Risk assessment. Decision matrices."
Marcus, still half-asleep, took the offered coffee. "It's too early for decision matrices."
"It's never too early for decision matrices." Sarah opened her laptop. "Jackson's on his way. We're figuring out what you're going to do with your abilities before you do something stupid and get yourself killed. Again."
"I said I'd be careful—"
"You said that last night. Then you immediately fought three armed muggers in an alley." Sarah fixed him with a look. "That's not careful, Marcus. That's the opposite of careful."
Marcus couldn't really argue with that.
Jackson arrived ten minutes later, looking more awake than either of them. "So. We're having the 'what do we do about Marcus's superhero complex' meeting?"
"I don't have a superhero complex."
"You died, came back with powers, and immediately started stopping crimes in alleys." Jackson grabbed a bagel. "That's textbook superhero complex."
"I stopped one mugging. One. That's not a pattern."
"Yet," Sarah said pointedly. "But Bullock's right. There's going to be a next time. The question is whether we plan for it or you keep winging it until something goes wrong."
Marcus sat down at the table, nursing his coffee. They were right. He knew they were right. Last night had proven that he couldn't just ignore situations where he could help. But it had also proven he was woefully unprepared for actually doing something about it.
"Okay. So what's the plan?"
Sarah pulled up her first spreadsheet. "First: we establish what you can actually do. Complete abilities inventory. I've been tracking based on what you've told me, but I need you to go through everything you've copied."
"That's going to take a while."
"How many are we talking?" Jackson asked.
Marcus thought about it. The ones he'd specifically mentioned to Sarah and Jackson—maybe twenty? But there were dozens more he'd barely noticed. Random minor skills that had clicked into place and faded into background knowledge. Muscle memory from people he'd passed. Language fragments. Technical knowledge. Little things he'd absorbed without really tracking.
"Seventy? Maybe eighty? I haven't been counting all of them."
Sarah's eyes widened. "Eighty abilities in three weeks?"
"Most of them are minor. Like, I can juggle now. No idea who I got that from. And I know how to play chess better than I used to. And there's this thing where I can estimate distances really accurately. Just... lots of little things that aren't worth tracking individually."
"That's not 'lots of little things,'" Jackson said. "That's a completely different baseline of human capability. You're accumulating skills at an insane rate."
Sarah was already typing. "Okay. New approach. We categorize by usefulness. Major abilities that significantly impact what you can do. Minor abilities that are useful but not game-changing. And negligible abilities that barely matter."
They spent the next two hours going through everything Marcus could remember copying.
MAJOR ABILITIES (Physical - Resurrection-based):
Enhanced strength
Enhanced speed
Enhanced reflexes
Enhanced healing
Enhanced senses
Enhanced durability
MAJOR ABILITIES (Copied - High Impact):
Cop's intuition (Bullock)
Combat awareness (security guard)
Athletic muscle memory (David)
Advanced fluid dynamics expertise (Professor Chen)
CAD software expertise (Sarah)
Strategic thinking (chess player at cafeteria)
Legal procedures knowledge (paralegal woman)
Medical first aid (nurse at campus clinic)
Advanced mechanics (classmate)
Electrical engineering intuition (Professor Harris)
Weapon handling basics (off-duty cop at coffee shop)
MINOR ABILITIES (Useful but Limited):
Soldering basics (electronics tech)
Metallurgy knowledge (classmate)
Spanish fragments (lunch person)
French basics (foreign exchange student)
Cooking techniques (cafeteria chef)
Guitar chord knowledge (street musician)
Juggling (random person)
Chess strategy (coffee shop regular)
Touch typing (secretary at admin office)
Photography composition (student photographer)
Drawing fundamentals (art student)
Car maintenance basics (mechanic)
Carpentry fundamentals (shop teacher)
Lock picking intuition (locksmith - legally encountered)
Meteorology basics (weather enthusiast at bus stop)
Navigation sense (delivery driver)
Speed reading (librarian)
Public speaking basics (professor)
Accounting principles (business student)
Wine knowledge (restaurant server)
NEGLIGIBLE ABILITIES (Minimal Impact):
Random trivia knowledge (various)
Sports statistics memorization (sports fan)
Comic book lore (comic shop employee)
Video game mechanics (gamer roommate's friend)
Karaoke confidence (drunk guy at bar Jackson dragged him to)
Knot-tying (scout leader on campus)
Origami (kid at park)
Whistling techniques (random person)
Better handwriting (calligraphy student)
Shoe-tying speed (weird one, no idea who)
Faster reading of sheet music (music student)
Ice skating balance (rink employee)
Parallel parking precision (taxi driver)
Estimation of crowd sizes (event coordinator)
Recognition of dog breeds (veterinary student)
Coffee brewing optimization (barista)
NEGATIVE/PROBLEMATIC (Mostly Faded):
Anxiety/jitters (random guy) - faded after three days
Caffeine sensitivity (coffee addict) - faded after a week
Mild claustrophobia (someone on subway) - mostly faded, slight residual
Tendency to crack knuckles (annoying, still present)
Slight fear of heights (construction worker, ironically) - manageable, mostly faded
"Jesus Christ," Jackson said, staring at the list. "You've copied over seventy abilities. In three weeks."
"Most of them are barely noticeable," Marcus protested. "Like, knowing dog breeds doesn't exactly make me a superhero."
"But combat awareness, cop's intuition, weapon handling, enhanced physical abilities, and medical knowledge?" Sarah highlighted those entries. "That combination makes you dangerous. Actually dangerous."
"And it's only been three weeks," Jackson added. "At this rate, you'll have hundreds of abilities in a few months. Maybe over a thousand in a year."
Marcus hadn't thought about it in those terms. He'd been focused on the day-to-day copying, not the long-term accumulation.
"What happens when you have a thousand abilities?" Sarah asked quietly. "What do you become?"
"I don't know. Still me, I guess. Just... more capable."
"Are you sure about that?" Jackson leaned forward. "Every ability you copy changes you slightly. Adds knowledge, skills, maybe personality traits. At what point do you stop being Marcus Reid and start being a collection of everyone you've ever met?"
That was an uncomfortable thought.
"I still feel like me," Marcus said. "The abilities just... integrate. Like they were always there. They don't change who I am fundamentally."
"Yet," Sarah said. "But we need to be aware of the risk. Every person you copy from adds something to you. Most of it is neutral or positive. But if you start copying from dangerous people—criminals, violent offenders, people with serious problems—you might absorb traits you don't want."
"The claustrophobia and anxiety faded," Marcus pointed out. "Maybe negative traits don't stick."
"Or maybe they fade because they're minor psychological quirks," Jackson countered. "What if you copy something worse? Violent tendencies. Lack of empathy. Criminal thinking. Those might not fade. They might integrate."
Marcus thought about the combat awareness he'd copied from the security guard. It had integrated seamlessly—a constant background awareness of threats, positioning, escape routes. Useful but also slightly paranoid. He was more watchful now. More alert to danger.
Was that changing his personality? Making him more like the security guard?
"This is why we need a plan," Sarah said, pulling their attention back. "Your copying ability is accelerating. You're gaining abilities faster as you encounter more people. And some of those abilities are making you capable of things that could get you killed."
She pulled up her risk assessment spreadsheet. "Different types of situations, rated by risk level."
LOW RISK:
Using enhanced abilities for school/work
Copying from safe individuals (classmates, professors, etc.)
General self-defense if attacked
Skill practice in controlled environments
MEDIUM RISK:
Intervening in crimes where you have clear advantage
Copying from law enforcement/security
Active self-defense in dangerous situations
Stopping non-violent crimes
HIGH RISK:
Fighting multiple armed opponents
Confronting organized crime
Copying from criminals (psychological risk)
Anything involving guns
Solo intervention without backup plan
EXTREME RISK:
Fighting enhanced individuals
Confronting supervillains
Copying from dangerous metahumans
Anything involving Gotham's major players
Going after gangs or organized operations
"Last night was high risk," Sarah said. "Three armed men, guns involved, minimal backup plan. You got lucky. Next time you might not."
Marcus studied the chart. "So you're saying I should stick to low and medium risk situations."
"I'm saying you should avoid high risk situations entirely. And extreme risk should be off the table completely." Sarah looked at him seriously. "Marcus, you have useful abilities. But you're not invincible. One good shot and you're dead. Again. Possibly permanently this time."
"The enhanced healing—"
"Doesn't work if you're shot in the head. Doesn't work if you're outnumbered badly enough. Doesn't work if you're up against someone with actual training and experience." Jackson leaned forward. "You've had your powers for three weeks. Most of Gotham's criminals have been doing this for years. Some for decades. You're not ready to fight them."
"But I have seventy-plus abilities," Marcus argued. "Combat awareness, weapon handling, athletic ability, enhanced physical capabilities—"
"You have introductory knowledge in most of those areas," Sarah interrupted. "The security guard you copied from? He had basic combat awareness. The cop with weapon handling? Probably basic academy training. David's athletic ability? College track team level. You're getting fragments of expertise, not mastery."
That stung because it was true. Marcus could feel the difference between his copied abilities and true expertise. He knew combat awareness but couldn't match someone who'd been in actual fights for years. He understood weapon handling but wasn't a marksman. He had athletic ability but wasn't an Olympic athlete.
He was better than average at lots of things. Expert at none.
"So what do you want me to do? Just ignore my abilities? Pretend I don't have them?"
"No," Sarah said. "We want you to be strategic. Use your abilities in smart ways. Low risk situations where you can actually help without getting killed."
"And we want you to focus on building actually useful abilities before you take on anything serious," Jackson added. "You've copied a bunch of random stuff because you encounter random people. But if you were strategic about who you copy from, you could become actually dangerous instead of just slightly more capable."
Sarah pulled up another spreadsheet. Because of course she had another spreadsheet.
"Option One: Focus on strategic copying. Go to specific places where skilled people train and work. Martial arts dojos, police training facilities if you can access them, hospitals, technical workshops. Build up actual expertise through deliberate exposure instead of random encounters."
"That's the smart option," Jackson noted. "No crime fighting. Just systematic skill building."
"Option Two: Limited intervention combined with strategic copying. Only act when you have clear advantage, backup plan, and low risk of serious harm. Meanwhile, actively work on building combat and tactical skills from safe sources."
"That's the compromise option," Sarah said. "Some helping, but controlled and supported by actual training."
"Option Three: Full vigilante. Costume, training, the whole thing. Actively seek out crime, fight criminals, become a proper Gotham vigilante."
"That's the stupid option," Jackson said bluntly. "That's the 'I want to die again' option. Especially with only three weeks of random abilities."
"But it's an option," Sarah conceded. "We're trying to be comprehensive."
Marcus looked at the three options. Each had pros and cons. Each represented a different path forward.
"What do you think I should do?"
"Honestly?" Sarah closed her laptop. "I think you should pick Option One. Focus on strategic skill acquisition. Stay out of fights. Graduate, leave Gotham, build a normal life somewhere safer."
"But you know I won't do that."
"Yeah. I know." She smiled sadly. "You've got that look. The same look you had when you decided to keep helping despite getting shot. You're going to do something. The question is whether we can make it less suicidal."
"Option Two then," Jackson suggested. "Limited intervention. You help when you can safely do so. You avoid high-risk situations. You call Bullock if things get too dangerous. And you actively work on building real combat skills from proper sources before you try anything serious."
That sounded reasonable. But Marcus thought about last night. The woman's scream. The way she'd been cornered. If he'd stopped to make a plan, to assess risk properly—would he have gotten there in time?
"What if waiting means someone gets hurt?" Marcus asked. "What if being careful means people die?"
"What if not being careful means you die?" Sarah countered. "Then you can't help anyone ever again. Dead heroes don't save people, Marcus."
She had a point.
"There's another consideration," Jackson said quietly. "The copying. You're accumulating abilities fast. Really fast. In three weeks you went from zero to seventy-plus abilities. At this rate, you'll have hundreds in a few months."
"That's good though, right? More abilities means more capable?"
"Maybe. But it also means more exposure to different mindsets, different personalities, different ways of thinking." Jackson looked serious. "Right now you've mostly copied from normal people. Students, professors, workers. But if you start fighting criminals regularly, you'll be exposed to violent people. People with antisocial traits. People whose psychology you might not want integrated into your own."
Marcus hadn't fully considered that angle. He'd been focused on skills—what abilities would help him fight, help him help people. Not on what personality traits might come along for the ride.
"The claustrophobia faded," Marcus pointed out. "Most of the negative stuff has."
"Minor psychological quirks faded," Sarah corrected. "But what about major personality traits? What if you copy a killer's lack of empathy? A sociopath's manipulative thinking? An addict's compulsions? We don't know if those would fade or integrate permanently."
"So fighting criminals doesn't just risk my life. It risks my personality."
"Potentially, yeah." Jackson spread his hands. "We don't know the full extent of your copying ability yet. You seem to mostly copy skills and knowledge, but you've also copied emotional traits like anxiety. The more extreme the person, the more dangerous the copy might be."
Sarah pulled up one more document. "We made you a list of strategic copying targets. People and places where you can gain useful abilities with minimal psychological risk."
Marcus scanned the list:
STRATEGIC COPYING SOURCES (Safe & Useful):
Combat Training:
Martial arts dojos (proper technique, controlled environment)
Boxing gyms (fighting fundamentals)
Fencing clubs (weapon work, reflexes)
Self-defense instructors (practical combat)
Tactical Knowledge:
Former military (if you can find ones who aren't traumatized)
Security consultants (threat assessment)
Emergency responders (crisis management)
Search and rescue (navigation, survival skills)
Medical Skills:
EMTs and paramedics (emergency medicine)
Trauma surgeons (critical care)
Physical therapists (body mechanics, injury recovery)
Technical Expertise:
Engineers (various specialties)
Computer scientists (hacking potential)
Chemists (understanding substances)
Mechanics (vehicle and machine knowledge)
Intelligence/Analysis:
Detectives (investigation techniques)
Lawyers (legal thinking)
Accountants (financial tracking - useful for finding criminal money)
Researchers (information gathering and analysis)
Physical Specialists:
Gymnasts (flexibility, body control)
Parkour practitioners (urban movement)
Climbers (strength, grip, problem-solving)
Dancers (balance, grace, body awareness)
Avoid:
Active criminals (psychological contamination risk)
People with serious mental illness (compassionate but risky)
Violent offenders (even reformed ones—not worth the risk)
Anyone actively using drugs/alcohol (addiction trait risk)
"You want me to just go around to these places and hope I copy useful things."
"We want you to strategically position yourself to gain abilities that might help you if you insist on doing dangerous things," Sarah corrected. "If you're going to be stubborn about helping people, at least be prepared."
Marcus looked at the list. It made sense. Build up abilities in controlled environments before exposing himself to danger. Learn combat from trained instructors instead of violent criminals. Gain expertise from safe sources.
"And in the meantime?" Marcus asked. "While I'm training and building skills? If I see something happening?"
Sarah and Jackson exchanged looks.
"Limited intervention only," Sarah said firmly. "Clear advantage. Backup plan. Call Bullock if needed. And for god's sake, don't fight anyone with a gun unless you have no other choice."
"And definitely don't fight anyone in a costume," Jackson added. "Anyone wearing a mask in Gotham is probably way out of your league right now."
"Even with seventy abilities?"
"Especially with seventy abilities. Because you have breadth, not depth. You're okay at lots of things. The people in costumes? They're experts at specific things. They'll destroy you."
That was sobering.
"Deal." Marcus looked at his friends. "Thank you. For caring enough to plan this out. For not just telling me I'm crazy."
"Oh, you're definitely crazy," Sarah said. "But you're our crazy friend. So we're going to help you be crazy in the least deadly way possible."
"That's the spirit."
They spent another hour refining the plan. Marcus would focus on strategic skill acquisition from safe sources. He'd join a martial arts dojo. Visit hospitals to copy medical knowledge. Hang around skilled professionals to build his expertise properly.
He'd only intervene in situations where he had clear advantage. He'd call Bullock for backup if needed. He'd avoid high-risk situations entirely.
And he'd document everything.
"One more thing," Sarah said as they were wrapping up. She pulled out her phone. "I made you a custom app. Secure, encrypted, automatically timestamps entries. You can log abilities, rate their usefulness, track where you copied them from, note if they fade."
"You made an app."
"I made an app at 6 AM while making spreadsheets. Very productive morning." Sarah transferred the app to Marcus's phone. "It'll help us track patterns. Figure out what works, what doesn't, what to prioritize."
"You're terrifyingly organized."
"Someone has to be. You clearly aren't." But she was smiling.
Marcus laughed despite himself. His friends were ridiculous. But they were also right. If he was going to do this—whatever this was—he needed to be smart about it.
With seventy-plus abilities already and more coming daily, he needed a system.
"Okay. Scientific approach. Strategic skill acquisition. Limited intervention. Comprehensive documentation." Marcus raised his coffee. "To not dying stupidly."
"To not dying stupidly," Sarah and Jackson echoed, clinking their cups against his.
They talked for another hour before Sarah had to leave for class. Jackson stayed for a bit longer, reviewing the strategic copying list with Marcus.
"You know Sarah's going to worry constantly now, right?" Jackson said.
"I know."
"And I'm going to worry too. We almost lost you once. That was enough."
"I know that too." Marcus looked at his friend. "But I can't just do nothing. Not when I have these abilities. Not when I could help."
"Then help smart. That's all we're asking." Jackson stood up. "I've got Physiology in twenty minutes. Don't fight any supervillains while I'm gone."
"No promises."
After Jackson left, Marcus sat alone with his coffee and the spreadsheets Sarah had left open on his laptop.
Three options. Three paths forward.
He knew which one made sense. Option Two was the logical choice. The smart choice.
But part of him—the part that had charged into that alley last night—wanted Option Three. Wanted to make a real difference. To use these abilities for something meaningful.
Not yet, he told himself. Sarah and Jackson are right. I'm not ready. Three weeks and seventy random abilities doesn't make me Batman.
But with strategic copying? Proper training? Maybe someday.
Marcus opened Sarah's app, created his first entry:
DATE: April 19
TOTAL ABILITIES: 73 (estimated)
ABILITIES GAINED TODAY: 0
SITUATIONS ENCOUNTERED: Discussion with S. and J. about future plans
NOTES: Agreed to focus on strategic skill acquisition and limited intervention. Need to be smarter about using abilities. Not ready for high-risk situations yet. Plan: martial arts dojo, hospital volunteering, technical workshops. Build expertise properly before attempting serious intervention.
GOAL: Reach 100+ useful abilities through strategic copying. Master combat fundamentals. Build proper tactical knowledge. THEN consider more active intervention.
He saved the entry, closed the app.
Three weeks since resurrection. Seventy-three abilities gained. One mugging stopped. And now a plan for moving forward.
Small steps. Build up strategically. Don't die stupidly.
Marcus looked out his apartment window at Gotham. Gray sky, rain starting again, the eternal city grinding forward.
Somewhere out there, people needed help. Crimes were happening. Gotham being Gotham.
And Marcus Reid, engineering student with seventy-three random abilities and a plan to get a lot more, was trying to figure out how to actually make a difference.
One strategic copy at a time.
One careful, calculated intervention at a time.
I can do this. I can help people without getting killed.
I just need to be patient. Build up properly. Become actually capable instead of just slightly enhanced.
Then... then maybe I can be what Gotham needs.
Marcus finished his coffee, grabbed his backpack, and headed to class.
Normal life. For now.
With seventy-three abilities and counting.
And a plan to become something more.
In Gotham, that was the best anyone could hope for.
Patient preparation.
Strategic growth.
And when the moment came to make a real difference—being ready.