Marcus stopped the liquor store robbery on a Wednesday night.
Three men. Two guns. One terrified clerk. Standard Gotham crime.
He'd called Bullock first—following protocol. Assessed the situation from the roof. Disabled the security camera with a well-placed rock. Entered through the back.
The takedown was efficient. Enhanced speed closed the distance. Combat training from multiple disciplines neutralized the threats. Two unconscious, one restrained, clerk safe.
Clean operation. No complications.
Marcus was zip-tying the third suspect when it happened.
Click.
The familiar sensation. Something copied.
The ability settled in, and Marcus immediately knew something was wrong.
It wasn't a skill. Wasn't knowledge. It was something else. Something darker.
A thought surfaced, unbidden: I should hurt him. He tried to hurt someone. He deserves it.
Marcus looked at the restrained suspect, felt his hands tighten on the zip-tie. The man was already secured, helpless. But part of Marcus wanted to hit him anyway. Wanted to make him feel pain for what he'd tried to do.
What the hell?
Marcus forced himself to step back. The impulse faded but didn't disappear. It sat in the back of his mind, a low simmering anger he hadn't felt before.
I copied something from one of them. Something bad.
Police sirens approaching. Marcus left through the back, his mind churning.
Three blocks away, he pulled off his mask and tried to process what he'd felt.
The violent impulse was still there. Not overwhelming, but present. A voice in his head suggesting that maybe criminals deserved more than just restraint. Maybe they deserved to actually hurt.
This is what Sarah warned about. Copying from the wrong people.
Marcus logged the incident with shaking hands:
DATE: June 7
TOTAL ABILITIES: 235
SITUATION: Armed robbery - liquor store, 3 suspects, 1 hostage
ACTION TAKEN: Standard intervention, all suspects neutralized and restrained, hostage safe, left before police arrival
RESULT: Success. No casualties. Clean operation.
ABILITIES GAINED: One copy from suspect (unknown which). NOT A SKILL. Some kind of psychological trait. Violent impulse. Desire to hurt criminals beyond what's necessary for restraint. Trait is NOT fading like anxiety did. Feels permanent.
NOTES: This is the thing we worried about. Copied something dangerous from a violent criminal. The impulse is manageable but it's THERE. Makes me want to hurt people who deserve it. That's not me. Or it wasn't. But it's integrating like all my other abilities. Becoming part of me.
PSYCHOLOGICAL: Scared. This is exactly what Jackson said could happen. Copy the wrong trait and it doesn't fade. It becomes part of my personality. I wanted to hurt that suspect even though he was already restrained. Had to actively stop myself. What happens if this gets stronger? What happens if I can't control it?
ACTION NEEDED: Tell Sarah and Jackson immediately. Need help managing this before it becomes worse.
He sent the log, then immediately called Sarah.
"I copied something bad. Really bad."
"How bad?"
"Violent impulse. Desire to hurt criminals. I had a guy restrained and part of me wanted to hit him anyway. Wanted to make him suffer." Marcus leaned against a wall. "It's not fading, Sarah. It's integrating like a real ability."
Sarah was quiet for a moment. "Come to my apartment. Now. We're dealing with this tonight."
Sarah and Jackson were waiting when Marcus arrived twenty minutes later.
"Okay," Sarah said, pulling up her laptop. "Walk me through exactly what happened. Every detail."
Marcus explained the robbery. The takedown. The click sensation. The violent impulse that followed.
"And you're feeling it now?" Jackson asked.
"Yeah. It's background level—not overwhelming. But it's there. This voice saying criminals deserve to be hurt, not just stopped."
Sarah made notes. "On a scale of one to ten, how strong is the impulse?"
"Maybe a three? Manageable. But I'm worried it'll get stronger. What if I copy more violent traits? What if they stack?"
"We don't know if they stack," Jackson said. "Your anxiety faded. Your caffeine sensitivity faded. Maybe this will fade too."
"Or maybe it won't. We can't assume." Sarah pulled up Marcus's ability logs. "You've copied from 235 people now. Most traits have been neutral or positive. This is the first seriously negative one that's stuck. That's... not terrible odds, actually."
"Not terrible odds that I'll become a violent psychopath?"
"Not terrible odds that you'll copy permanent negative traits." Sarah looked at him seriously. "Marcus, this was always a risk. We knew it could happen. Now it has. So we deal with it."
"How?"
"Management strategies." Jackson pulled up research on his phone. "Violent impulses can be managed through meditation, cognitive behavioral techniques, awareness. You identify the impulse, acknowledge it, but don't act on it."
"Like anger management?"
"Basically. Except the anger is from someone else's psychology integrated into yours." Jackson scrolled through information. "I-Ching teaches meditation, right? Maybe that helps. Mental discipline to control the impulse."
"And we monitor it," Sarah added. "You log every time you feel the impulse. Rate its intensity. Track if it's getting stronger or staying stable. If it escalates, we adjust strategy."
Marcus sat down heavily. "This is really happening. I copied someone's violent tendencies and now they're part of me."
"Part of your ability collection," Sarah corrected. "Not necessarily part of your core personality. There's a difference."
"Is there? If I feel violent impulses, doesn't that make me violent?"
"No. It makes you someone with violent impulses who chooses not to act on them." Jackson's tone was firm. "You have the impulse. You didn't hit that suspect. That's what matters. You still have control."
"For now."
"Then we make sure you keep control." Sarah started typing. "New protocol: every intervention, you log whether the violent impulse affected your actions. Every training session, you practice managing it. Every week, we assess if it's escalating. We treat this like any other dangerous ability that needs management."
Marcus thought about that. It made sense. The impulse was there, but he could control it. Choose not to act on it. Stay himself despite the new voice in his head.
"Okay. Management protocol. I can do that."
"Good. Because you're going to keep operating. This doesn't end your vigilante work—it just means you have to be more careful." Sarah looked at him seriously. "But Marcus? If the impulse gets too strong. If you feel like you're losing control. You stop. Immediately. No arguments."
"I will."
"Promise."
"I promise."
The next week tested that promise.
Marcus stopped two more crimes. Both times, the violent impulse flared when he had suspects restrained. Both times, he pushed it down. Stayed controlled. Did what was necessary but nothing more.
But the impulse was always there now. A constant low-level background noise suggesting that maybe criminals deserved more than restraint. Maybe they deserved pain.
He logged it obsessively:
June 8 - Mugging intervention: Impulse intensity 4/10. Wanted to break mugger's arm after disarming him. Didn't. Stayed controlled.
June 9 - Attempted assault: Impulse intensity 3/10. Suspect already unconscious from my initial strike. Part of me wanted to hit him again. Didn't.
June 10 - Breaking and entering: Impulse intensity 2/10. Barely present. Maybe getting better? Or maybe this suspect wasn't violent enough to trigger it strongly.
June 11 - Armed carjacking: Impulse intensity 6/10. This was bad. Suspect pulled gun on victim. I disarmed him, and the impulse screamed to break his fingers. Make him understand what it feels like to be helpless. Took serious effort to just restrain him normally. Almost lost control.
Sarah called after reading that last log. "Intensity six is too high. We need to adjust your management strategy."
"I stayed controlled. I didn't do anything."
"This time. But six out of ten is approaching dangerous territory." Her voice was worried. "You're doing more interventions per week now. More encounters with violent criminals. Each one is a chance for the impulse to spike."
"So what, I should do fewer interventions? Let criminals get away?"
"No. But maybe you need better coping mechanisms. Talk to I-Ching about the meditation stuff. Practice the techniques Jackson researched. Don't just white-knuckle through this."
Marcus knew she was right. The impulse was manageable now, but barely. And every violent encounter seemed to make it slightly stronger.
Thursday training at I-Ching's dojo, Marcus asked about meditation.
"You're troubled," I-Ching observed immediately. "Your stance is tense. Your breathing shallow. Something weighs on your mind."
"I'm dealing with... aggressive thoughts. Trying to manage them."
"Ah." I-Ching nodded as if this explained everything. "Come. We'll work on mental discipline today instead of physical."
They spent an hour on meditation techniques. Breathing exercises. Visualization. Ways to observe thoughts without being controlled by them.
"Anger is like fire," I-Ching explained. "Useful when controlled. Destructive when allowed to spread. You don't eliminate fire. You contain it. Direct it. Use it when necessary, but never let it consume you."
"What if the fire comes from somewhere else? What if it's not really mine?"
I-Ching tilted his head. "All thoughts are yours once they're in your mind. The source doesn't matter. What matters is whether you control them or they control you."
Marcus practiced the meditation techniques at home. Sometimes they helped. Sometimes the violent impulse pushed through anyway, a insistent voice suggesting that restraint wasn't enough.
By mid-June, Marcus had established a fragile equilibrium.
The violent impulse was permanent—he'd accepted that. It didn't fade like anxiety had. It was integrated into his psychological landscape, another ability copied from someone whose darkness he'd absorbed.
But he could manage it. Most of the time.
Meditation helped. Mental discipline helped. Logging and tracking helped. Knowing Sarah and Jackson were watching helped.
And sometimes—in fights with particularly violent criminals—the impulse was actually useful. It made him more aggressive when aggression was needed. More willing to use necessary force. Less hesitant.
That's the trade-off. The cost of this power. I gain abilities but I also gain the darkness that comes with some of them.
Marcus logged his thoughts:
DATE: June 15
TOTAL ABILITIES: 241 (6 more gained this week, none problematic)
VIOLENT IMPULSE UPDATE: Still present. Intensity varies 2-6 depending on situation. Manageable with meditation and discipline. Has not escalated beyond initial levels. Sometimes actually useful in combat—makes me more decisive, less hesitant about using force when necessary.
PERSONALITY ASSESSMENT: I'm different now. More aggressive. Less patient with criminals. The impulse has changed how I think about justice. Before, I stopped crimes because it was right. Now part of me wants criminals to suffer for what they do. That's not entirely me. But it's not entirely not-me either. It's integrated. Permanent.
SARAH'S ASSESSMENT: "You're managing it well but you're definitely different. More edge. Less mercy. Not bad necessarily, just... changed. We keep monitoring."
MY ASSESSMENT: This is the cost. I wanted to copy abilities to help people. But abilities come with baggage. This violent impulse is my first real piece of baggage. Probably won't be my last. Question is whether the good I can do outweighs the cost to my personality.
ANSWER: Yes. For now. The impulse makes me dangerous but I'm still controlled. Still helping people. Still making Gotham safer. That's worth carrying this darkness.
BUT: I need to be careful. No more copying from obviously violent criminals if I can avoid it. And if the impulse ever gets too strong—if I ever lose control—I stop. Sarah and Jackson will tell me if that happens. I trust them to keep me honest.
He closed the app, looked at himself in the mirror.
Same face. Same body. But something had changed behind his eyes. Something harder. Less forgiving.
This is what copying abilities from criminals means. You take their skills but you also take pieces of their psychology.
And some pieces don't wash off.
Marcus went to bed that night feeling the violent impulse as a quiet presence in his mind.
Not overwhelming. Not controlling. But permanent.
A constant reminder that power came with a price.
And sometimes that price was paid in pieces of your own humanity.
Outside, Gotham's sirens wailed.
And Marcus Reid, carrying darkness he'd copied from someone else, tried to sleep.
Knowing he'd wake up tomorrow and do it all again.
Help people.
Stop criminals.
Manage the impulse.
That was all he could do.
And hope the darkness doesn't win.