Chapter Text
It took him a few seconds to come to- the shockwave from the blast was much worse than the heat. Mark’s skin may be invulnerable (to a certain extent) but recent events have revealed his inner ear is much less so. He was slightly dazed, but of course, uninjured. Squinting his eyes against the glare of the sun he gathered himself and shot downwards.
In barely a moment Mark’s shoes touched down on solid ground- solid unfamiliar ground. The structure where he fought the Maulers not minutes ago was nothing but an open expanse of barren land.
Huh, I swore this was where the missile silo was…
Mark leapt into the air, flying a few kilometres in each direction. There was absolutely nothing here except for sand, dust and dull desert plants.
Fuck.
He knew for a fact that Oliver was too much like him, too much like da- like Nolan, to go home like he told him. Oliver could take care of himself for the few seconds Mark had to take care of the planet threatening nuke… but he didn’t want to leave him too long!
Shit.
He really should have paid more attention in his Geography classes because it has really come back to bite him in the ass more and more recently.
Suddenly Mark’s abdomen was on fire, like he was being stabbed from the inside out. He felt like his stomach flipped; crashing down to earth, he clutched his stomach, dry heaving. Rolling to his knees, he groaned. The sun was beating down on his back as Mark gasped between retches, his fingers clutching the sand. Time pushed on as Mark fought his own body for control.
With one final heave, a tiny, flashing device flew out of Mark’s mouth. Diving forward, he snatched it from the dirt, wiping the bodily fluids from it. His dirty goggles obscured his view. Mark desperately grabbed his mask and yanked it off.
“What the actual fuck?!” In his hurry to clean it, he put a bit too much pressure on it, cracking the shiny surface. “Oh my god… oh my god!?”
How many alterations did Cecil make to his body while he was unconscious in the hospital? What even is this? How did he just vomit it up? Mark felt weirdly violated. He fought on Cecil’s side. Would Mark only ever be seen as his father- if only a more malleable, easily-manipulated-by-the-GDA version. Once again, he was just a dog on a leash for Cecil; this was another muzzle, another shock collar that could be activated when he left the range of the GDA’s comfort zone. He took a deep breath and slipped the device into a small pocket on his thigh, he’d ask Rudy about it later.
Power surged into his legs as he propelled himself off the sandy soil. He needed to find Oliver, keep him from The Guardians, keep him from the GDA. They were bound to en route as soon as the two identical supervillains were taken care of.
Mark had absolutely, not a single idea where he was. He couldn’t have been pushed that far by the explosion. A bird’s eye view should have revealed the location of the base but there was nothing except for a few lonely roads, uninhabited by cars.
He sighed, spinning, choosing a random direction. Despite not being able to see any man-made objects that way, it wasn’t better than any other paths. Mark reached up, pulling his mask back on and took off. Once he reached some form of civilisation he could probably navigate from there, and if Oliver didn’t choose to listen to him he’d sort it out when he wasn’t horribly lost.
***
It didn’t take long for small settlements to start popping up, first farms, then small galleries of houses, suburbs, city. Mark always liked watching that progression. For him it was barely a second, and yet it was like a tree of humanity growing out into the world. Snapping out of his trance, the power sapped out of his legs. Mark righted himself and descended to a nearby roof that wasn't very high. He peered out over the edge.
Large groups of people shuffled up and down main streets; children held the hands of their guardians, their little legs struggling to keep up; people in suits, heads down, power walked; students with over-sized bags; older people ambled with canes. It was familiar, it was warm, yet he didn’t know these people, he never would but in some sense he already did and he always would.
Electronic billboards lined the street. Ads for movies, food chains, phones… Mark didn’t recognise any. No Burger Mart and some weird new brand of phone, Stark. It was strange but he didn’t have much time for movies right now, he might've missed the new ones… however the food chains and other products were more confusing, but he didn’t usually spend this much time looking at these.
Mark hopped down off the building to the pedestrianised street. He needed to find out where he was, then at least he could get back on the right track.
Immediately something was off, he tried to seem as friendly as possible but the people in the street avoided him. Maybe it was the new suit- the blue and black was pretty aggressive looking. His arms were slightly raised, palms open.
“Hey- hey. Sorry, where are we?” The man he approached recoiled away from him. Mark took a step back. The man looked him up and down. “I don’t want no trouble man- “He spluttered. “I’ve done nothing.”
“No, no sorry! You’ve got the wrong idea, I just want to know where we are. I just got uh- a bit turned around- “Mark rambled, using erratic hand gestures. He was lost literally and figuratively.
“We’re in Las Vegas.” The man seemed to calm down, slightly. “If you don’t mind me asking, who the fuck are you supposed to be?” Huh, maybe he didn’t know Invincible (or Invinciboy). He didn’t want to toot his own horn, but he had made a pretty big name for himself (the incident in Chicago was enough to cement his name in history).
“Im uhh- Invincible?” No recognition lighted the man’s eyes. “I’m gonna go.”
Mark hopped up into the air, not waiting for a response. He careful not to put too much power into the jump. He didn’t want to create scare anyone but he had places to be. Mark needed to find Oliver.