Mechelle Ivo

In her spartan office within Ivotech headquarters, Mechelle and Destiny watched the news together.

“-unprecedented attack, where a terrorist labeling himself a ‘supervillain’ attacked the Seven. They bravely fought off the villain, saving many of those at the arena, though a few were injured during the attack. The villain, using a variety of robotic creations to attack those at the arena, dubbed himself ‘Eggman’, and is currently at large. Later today, Vought will be giving a press release on the villain, as well as their plans on how to handle-”

Mechelle shut off the tv, leaning back. “...Why did you want me to watch that?”

Destiny smirked. “Well. It’s less that I wanted you to watch it. More that I wanted to see your reaction to it.”

“Sad, seeing so many people get hurt,” Mechelle said with a shake of her head. “It’s good that the Seven were able to stop Dr. Eggman.”

“...Dr, huh?” Destiny leaned forward, resting her right elbow on her knee and her chin in her palm. “You know. I checked. And no one was really ‘injured’ by the robots. Some bruises, broken bones. No deaths. There was one cop that is currently in the hospital with severe injuries, but other than that, nothing that can’t be healed with some time.”

“How fortunate,” Mechelle said with a smile.

“It is… how is Julian, by the way? Still making things?”

“Always is,” Mechelle agreed.

“Hm. Well,” Destiny picked up the remote from Mechelle’s desk. “I’m sure that our miracle worker is making yet more interesting technology,” as though to punctuate her point, when she flipped the tv back on, a Badnik appeared. A Crabmeat. ‘The derpiest looking robot ever’, as Julian said, with it’s big eyes and strange way of walking.

“Very different from what this guy makes, isn’t it?” Destiny noted. “Very advanced though… Please remind him that my firm is willing to go to bat for him on many things… within reason. There are limits.”

“Limits?”

“Well… depends on the paycheck,” Destiny leaned back. “That aside. I reached out to the family of the cop who was injured, as you requested. His doctor is looking over the data you gave.”

“Thank you so much, Destiny,” Mechelle said cheerily. Behind the mask of happiness however, her mind began to go over the issues at hand.

The news was lambasting Eggman. That was something they knew would happen, but it was a bit much in Mechelle’s opinion.

She decided she could do something about it. After all, if Vought was hiding the footage of what really happened, how their heroes were embarrassed, there was no reason she shouldn’t show the truth. See them try and keep that out of the hands of the internet at large.

Dr. Eggman may have been a villain, but he’d be one with a good publicist if she had anything to say about it.

------

Julian Ivo

A day after my first foray into supervillainy, I looked over the monitor in front of me, frowning just a bit. “You know, Colin, when you told me you wanted your own project, I was expecting something smaller.”

“Then you underestimate the levels of greed I work at,” Colin snarked. He frowned. “Really though, what do you think?”

“About the overall idea? I think it’s going to be expensive and long-term. But beyond that, I can’t believe I never considered it.”

“In your defense, your focus has been rather targeted as of late,” Colin said.

“Well, I guess that’s why we work together. Cover our weak points,” I pulled out a map. “How much of this can we take care of, do you think?

“If we can build the Badniks for it, we can get started on the clean up. But the rest of it could take a good long while, considering what it would take to build a base like that.”

“I’m perfectly fine with that,” Colin said with a smile. “If we end up in trouble, having control over even a portion of the ocean would be advantageous to let us hide.”

“...Can Homelander swim?”

Colin stared at me. “I… don’t know? He might not even have tried.”

“Might be worth prepping for. You’ve got enough to worry about with the Deep. He might be a discount Aquaman, but despite the memes about it Aquaman can be damned scary when he wants to be.”

“Excellent point,” Colin said, crossing his arms. “I will have some issue creating my bacteria idea however. The last thing we need is for it to start devouring things it shouldn’t.”

“Yeah, let’s leave causing a worldwide plague as a maybe for now,” I snarked. “Still, I agree with you. Building underwater facilities, cleaning the ocean, making travel under water more convenient. I’ll help as much as I can.”

“I appreciate it. I can likely handle most of it however,” he said. I detected a bit of… eagerness, from him. I was glad.

Making androids had been risky, but one thing I’d made sure of was not to put so many limitations on them that they’d end up turning on me out of spite. Being a dick had caused ninety percent of Eggman’s problems.

And Colin taking on a project of his own volition was something I took heart in. I wasn’t expecting him to make his own Seaquest series (Damn, who the hell remembered that sadly wasted show?) but it was cool.

“But building your future Atlantis will be more of a general project-.”

“To be honest,” Colin said, cutting me off. He looked thoughtful. “I think that is my goal. It will take time. But one day… The ocean will be mine.”

“...I want to focus on the officer. What do we got?”

Colin shook his head from dreams of conquest.

“Tommy King? A litany of injuries,” Colin sounded disgusted. “A single pass of Homelander’s lasers was equivalent to having magma touch his skin. And worse is the way the beam hit him.”

Colin took on a brief stance, looking like he was holding a gun, stance low. “Homelander used a wider iteration of his beams. Since the officer's arms and legs were slightly forward, the beam hit those first, cooking the flesh on his limbs. In fact, the beam was so hot that it boiled the blood in his limbs to steam, exploding it outwards. After that, the beam hit his chest and stomach. The amount of damage it did there was less horrid, but still… And of course, his face. As far as I can tell, the beam took out one of his eyes. And most of the skin around it.”

“Fucking Homelander,” I sighed. “So what can we do to help him?”

“Well, his limbs will need replacements. The ends of them are almost entirely useless hunks of flesh now. Large portions of his skin, cybernetics to support the systems, fuel cells, some strengthening of his overall bone structure. How super would you like me to make him?”

“Pretty damn, if that can be a level,” I moved over to my desk and sat down. “If we’re helping Tommy King, I want him to be better than he was before. Robocop him up.”

“There may be a problem with that,” Colin began stroking his beard. “Vought. They’ve reached out to him. Begun their little assault on his perception of what happened. I believe they’ll be sending a lawyer with a paper to sign and money to provide, maybe even try and find some way to convince him he was responsible for his injuries.”

“Price of fighting on a battlefield with gods? I could see them doing that,” I leaned forward and tapped at the phone on my desk, soon connecting over to Mechelle.

“Julian? How can I help you?” she said with uncharacteristic cheer.

“Hey cuz. I was just gonna ask, is Destiny still with you? Can you ask her to make sure Tommy King knows he has options?”

“Already on it,” Destiny said, sounding amused. “May I ask why?”

“Selflessly, because helping people is good. Selfishly, because helping a cop who got hurt by a supe is great for our reputation. You know what one of my goals is.”

“I think I do, but you seem to have so many,” she said over the phone. “We’ve already reached out to him. We should get a response at the end of the day.”

“Fantastic news then. Do you need any help?”

“I’d like you or Colin to meet the family,” Destiny said. “It’s easier to convince people of this sort of thing when they can meet their benefactor directly after all. Plus, if Vought is about to talk to him, having a CEO of the company meeting them instead of a heartless lawyer is a good look.”

“...” I leaned back in my seat. Honestly, while my first thought was to do just that, I was having second thoughts. Revealing myself so completely might be a bad idea. Right now, I could think of maybe 30 people who knew what I looked like and who I was, all people I worked with. Showing up at the hospital of the cop hurt by Homelander. People could notice.

However, I did have a simple explanation for my being there. Greed.

If the tech inside Tommy King worked, he’d be able to get to work in moments. And once people saw how effective he was, that he was able to live a healthy life and even become competitive with supes? Well...

If he accepted of course.

------

In the hours before I would head out to meet Tommy King, I got some work done. Upgrades to my computer line, some looks into the various smaller tech designs Ivotech would be selling (we’d be opening up a line of machines for kitchenware as well as some smaller goods), then some more paperwork like signing off on the purchase of some land.

Soon enough though, Mechelle and I left for the hospital. It was a long drive, so I had time to watch a movie or two in the fancy car we rented for the ride.

“...This is absolute trash,” I said as Mechelle and I watched Invisible Force, one of Translucent’s movies.

“No one can see me, Jennifer,” an empty piece of space said. “This is my gift. This is my curse. I wish you could see me the way I see you, but the world isn’t made of fairy tales. Now kiss me baby.”

Fuck me, really?

“You picked it,” Mechelle said with no emotion.

“I wanted to compare it to superhero movies I remember,” I said with a sigh. “I mean, I had my guesses, but I really hoped for more from a world where these powers actually exist. How the hell can the effects be bad when the effects are real?”

“Many explosions in movies look fake despite the fact real explosions exist,” Mechelle pointed out.

“And my god, the acting!”

“...”

“I mean, sure, some superhero movies in my world had some really trash or dorky acting. But this is somehow worse,” I sighed sadly. “And it’s weird, there are almost none of my world's movies or tv shows, but the music is almost identical. Even Wu Tang Clan is still nothing to fuck with.”

Thank god.

“That is odd,” Mechelle said. “Doctor… are you trying to distract yourself?”

“No.”

We stared at each other for a long moment.

“That is… good.”

I sighed. “Fine. I’m both trying to distract myself, and trying to remember that I’m me.”

Mechelle didn’t say anything, but I could tell she understood.

The past couple of days, I had to act out and practice my role over and over. Make sure I was as much Eggman as I could be, with all the hammy badass insanity intact. Having to play that out had been weirdly addictive. Which worried me just a bit.

The movie continued.

“You know, maybe I should make my own movie,” I mused.

“...” Mechelle didn’t look over at me.

“I could remake the Avengers or Justice League, do a thing about them. Hell, I could cross them over!”

Mechelle finally turned to look over at me. “...If you feel that is the best option. I can shift your schedule. You have several meetings, projects, programming sessions, lunches, sleep,” I flinched. Ah. Right. “Your time is valuable, of course, but if you wish to add the endeavors of a full movie project, we can-”

I laughed a bit, shaking my head. “All right, all right, I get it!”

“Get what?”

“I have enough on my plate without adding ‘movie production’ to the list,” I smirked at her. “What memories gave you passive-aggressiveness.”

“I’m sure I’m simply the product of my creator,” somehow, despite how robotic she sounded, I could almost hear a smile in her voice.

------

When we got to the hospital, we were led up to Thomas King’s room, walking through halls that smelled of antiseptic. Sometimes vomit. Overworked nurses and doctors ignored Mechelle and I, while the nurse leading us seemed more annoyed than anything.

“Here he is,” the nurse said, sounding like he hadn’t slept in days. “He’s in a lot of pain, so he might be a little bit loopy. Try to keep your visit short.”

“Thank you,” I said.

He scoffed, turning and walking away. Mechelle frowned. “Rude.”

“More overworked,” I mused. Back in my world, the coronavirus had been in full swing. I’d visited the hospital a few times, and the look of terrified exhaustion on the workers there had been heartbreaking.

“I’ll go in alone,” I told Mechelle. She didn’t complain, only moving to stand beside the door. With her height and build, along with the dark shades, short haircut, and tailored suit, she looked like an Amazonian bodyguard. Which, she kinda was.

I entered the hospital room. Inside, our man of the hour was in bed, sitting up and looking in my direction, with two people next to him. A young girl and a much older man. I held back a wince at the smell in the air. Burnt flesh, like pork left to scorch. His arms, legs, and a portion of his face were covered in bandages

“Who the fuck are you?” the old man immediately said. He was the same color as Tommy, with more wrinkles and a less than friendly look on his face.

“Julian Ivo,” I said, looking over them. “I was told we were supposed to meet up. I can wait outside if you-”

“If you’re another scum sucking-” the older man stood up, his chest filling up with air, eyes filled with rage.

“Pops,” Tommy’s voice was weak, exhausted. But the older man stopped immediately. “Can you take Chelsea out while we talk.”

“Tomm-”

Tommy gave him a pleading look. The older man finally sighed. “Come on, midget.”

The small girl nodded, her dreadlocks bouncing. The older man walked out with her, the two looking me over. The older man looked very suspicious. The young girl’s face was… blank. But they moved with a similar sort of exhaustion.

Once they left, I walked over to Tommy.

“You’re the CEO of IvoTech?” Tommy looked me over. “You look a little young.”

“It’s why I grew a beard,” I stopped at the foot of his bed, looking over him. “I might as well cut to the chase. Do you know what my company does, Mr. King?”

“You’re… a tech company, right?” he said weakly. “Don’t you guys make computers?”

“It’s where we started, but you’re not incorrect. We make plenty of stuff. But one thing we’ve done intensive research into is medical technology,” I moved to sit next to him. “Mr. King. I won’t lie. Your wounds are extensive. The amputations are just the start. Large portions of your skin will need to be replaced, sections of your chest and stomach. If normal medicine is used, you will be severely reduced in your ability to function. Normal prosthetics can give you some functionality… But I want to offer you mo-”

“Why?” Tommy cut me off. He leaned forward, gasping in pain but his eyes hard. “Why the fuck would you do that? Your lady on the phone said you were offering it for free. Free prosthetics, cover my medical bills, cover everything.”

“Can’t I do that out of the goodness of my heart?”

“You aren’t doing this because of that,” Tommy spat out.

“I am, actually,” I felt like I needed a cane to lean on. This seemed like a cane leaning moment. “I have a few reasons to do this. One of them is because, really, I can do something good to help you. You have a good record as a cop, Mr. King. Honest, hardworking, some commendations under your belt like Distinguished Service Citation, Citations for Bravery, etc.”

Tommy leaned back a bit. “...A few reasons?”

“Oh, you want all of them,” I have to admit, my smile became a bit manic. “Okay. First, like I said, I want to help people. One day, my prosthetics could help thousands. I’d like to start that soon, and you, a healthy young man with a fit build and a strenuous job, are an excellent candidate to work with. Helping you is good, and it will further my research.”

“Second, more selfishly, I want to make money. Good will with the public, tested technology, the free advertisement of a police officer I helped out on the street stopping crimes? Those are money in the making. So if you want a selfish reason, there it is.”

I rose to my feet. “But then, there is one more reason. Spite!”

As I started pacing the room, Tommy’s eyes followed. “S-Spite?”

“Spite… against Homelander,” I turned to look at him. “Let me ask you. Did Vought speak to you already?”

“Yeah. On the phone. They asked me a bunch of-”

“Did they apologize?” his mouth snapped shut. “No? Did Homelander? ...How about this? Did they have explanations? Excuses? Did anyone say ‘sorry’? Or was it all, ‘we’re just wracked about what happened to you,.’ ‘my sympathies,’ ‘my condolences, I feel for you.’ Right?”

Tommy stared at me. I scowled.

“And then, there is the supes. There are good ones. Many good ones. But then there are the ones Vought hides away. The idiots.”

“Homelander’s a hero though,” Tommy said weakly. When I gave him a look of contempt, he seemed to flinch.

“...I hate the idea of supes. Of the special being born on a pedestal, above all the rest. Humanity isn’t a few heroes born with some fancy powers. Humanity is a whole. People coming together, using time, knowledge, and determination to build something great. Vought has created a culture of worshiping a few individuals.”

I clenched my fist. “I believe in heroes. But heroes are not heroes because of some special dna. They become that because of their character! Because when the villains arrive, they protect the innocent, fight the guilty, they step up! Even if you go for the most ancient traditional translation of it, a hero is someone with some goddamn balls!”

“They step forward where others would falter, they fight rather than run! I saw the footage of the battle, Mr. King. The real footage, the stuff on the internet rather than the news. Of the people on that battlefield who fought the robots, you know who had the best results? Queen Maeve, Black Noir… some civilians who stepped forward to protect others. Then you and some of your fellow officers. Of the people who gave those ridiculous robots an actual fight, only two of them were superheroes.”

“And what happened when one of the most powerful men in existence finally fought?” I sat down again, staring at him. “He fired a laser that turned you into a triplegic.”

“It was a stray shot,” Tommy looked down at his bed, clenching at his bedsheets. “It happens. When you pull the trigger, sometimes people can get hurt.”

“I’m not saying accidents don’t happen. But the man who is touted as the greatest hero in the world should at least say ‘sorry’,” I leaned back. “Spite, like I said Mr. King, is one of the reasons I want to do this. I want to turn you into more than just a healed man. I want to supplement, make you a superhuman in your own right. To prove that anyone can have power. But heroes have to be more than someone who can pick up a car. You were a hero before this. You can be a superhero after.”

I leaned back, sighing. “There you have it. I can be selfless, selfish, or spiteful. But the fact is, who cares?”

“Who cares?”

“Who gives a fuck why I’m doing it? The fact is, what do you want? After all, in the worst case I am offering you a means to be fully human again and not lose your job or lifestyle in general, and if things go wrong there I will gladly pay you for getting your hopes up. Best case I am offering you basically superpowers, even if augmentations is a better word for it.”

I shrugged. “Frankly, Mr. King, who cares why I’m doing it? What matters is, how does it benefit or hinder you?”

He stared at me thoughtfully. “...Can you give me a day to think about it?”

“Only a day? I was prepared to give you more time than that,” I chuckled. “Take a look at my work, Mr. King. My files have been sent already, along with some basic blueprints and a copy of our contract. In truth, my lawyers asked me to hold off on what I’m offering, but you’ll be getting the full package of assistance. And whether my assistance is accepted or not, I have covered your bills.”

He seemed to relax just a bit. “You didn’t have to cover that… but thank you. I figured the hospital would be expensive-”

“No, no bills. All of your bills,” I really needed to get a cane I could swing around, because I felt like getting one just for the flair. Tommy had a dumbfounded look on his face. “A great man once said, ‘never half ass something that you can whole ass.’ I take that sort of thing to heart.”

With that, I turned to leave. Before I did though a fun thought came to me that I had to act on.

“You ever watched the Six Million Dollar Man, Mr. King?” I said with a smirk.

“No?” he said in confusion.

“You are in for a treat then when I am done with you.”

With that, I walked out. As I passed by Mechelle, she immediately began to follow. “How did it go?”

“I think I’m bad at making speeches,” I mused.

“I’m sure you did well,” Mechelle said.

We ignored the two men in suits approaching us. Very expensive looking suits, along with briefcases, rolexes, and a very confident demeanor. Of course, they headed towards Tommy’s room.

Mechelle and I entered the elevator.

“I placed the camera above the door as you asked,” Mechelle said.

“Perfect. Let’s see how those assholes act. Hell, maybe they’re a lot more charming than I remember,” as the elevator doors closed, I felt Mechelle eye me. “Yeah, I doubt that too.”

------

Tommy King

Not long after that weird Julian guy left, two more men came in. Tommy frowned at them. Both were wearing suits, both were very fancy looking, right down to their haircuts.

“Who are you?”

“Ah, Mr. King,” one of the men stepped over, the other one moving to his other side. “I’m with Vought International.”

He held out a hand to shake. Tommy stared at him, then at his missing arm. The man hesitated, realizing he’d put out the wrong arm to shake.

Tommy noticed more than that. Neither man had introduced themselves by name,nor the fact they didn’t even realize the fucking issue with trying to shake hands with a recent amputee.

“Uh, sorry,” the man pulled his hand back. The other man coughed, and the first continued. “Like I said, I uh, am with Vought, we both are. We came in to give you our deepest condolences and sympathies. When we heard that you had been caught up in the crossfire of the Seven’s battle against Eggman, we wanted to reach out and do what we could to help you through this tough time.”

“I appreciate that,” Tommy said very carefully.

The two men smiled. “Now, as a police officer, we understand that your job has some danger attached to it, and anything can happen on a battlefield, right?”

Where were they going with this?

“Still, with your injuries, we’re still willing to help bring you some measure of peace. While you may not be able to continue your job, we will be able to help cover your medical bills in the meantime along with more financial assistance. We also have some connections we can reach out to so you can stay on the force in an administrative role!”

“It’s not perfect,” the other man said. “But it’s something.”

Tommy looked between them. He grimaced just a bit with the pain filling him. “...And what do you want in return for this? For me not to say Homelander fucking shot me with his lasers?”

“Mr. King,” one of the men said disapprovingly, before the other one raised a hand, stopping him.

When the man gave Tommy a pitying look, Tommy felt a small amount of disgust.

“Mr. King. An accident is an accident. But if you must know, we’re all in this together. In fact, this is for the greater good,” the man said in a smooth tone of voice. “All we ask in return is that you sign a settlement contract that absolves Vought International and its employees of any wrongdoing during the course of the events of the attack and legally promise not speak up publically against it in a… negative light.”

The man smiled gently. “We were all surprised by this Eggman’s attack after all and it only helps this terrorist if we turn on each other. So any mention of how you were injured and by whom will need to be kept quiet.”

On the surface, that made some sense… but Tommy felt something in him rail at the thought. Sign a paper. Absolve Homelander. As though the pain he was feeling, the fucking loss of his legs and arm, was just a damn accident!

“...Can I at least get an apology?” Tommy asked calmly. Testingly. “I just want Homelander to say he’s sorry.”

One man hid a grimace. The other didn’t flinch. “I’m not sure I can promise that. Homelander is a very busy man. But we can give it a shot.”

A shot. How nice.

“I need a day to think about it,” Tommy said immediately.

“...That’s fair,” one of the men said. He smiled gently. “Just remember, Mr. King. A deal like this doesn’t come everyday. We’re willing to help, we just want to make sure we can work together on this.?”

Tommy didn’t speak. The man was right. A deal like this didn’t come everyday. Luckily, he’d gotten two.

A promise to get him somewhat healed with a desk job waiting as long as he shut up, or a promise to make himself stronger than ever without needing to do a damn thing he didn’t want.

And in the end… Julian was right. Neither of those fuckers had the dignity to say sorry.

As soon as the two left, Tommy reached for his cell phone, placed on the drawers next to him by his father. He knew what deal he’d take. Maybe it was impulsive, but it felt like the right choice.

------

Author’s Note: Robocop! Robocop! Robocop! Robocop!