《He was a Man, and I was a Villain》1. Chest Pain but Better

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Space fractured atop a skyscraper and a super cool dude materialized with his ultranew Pyx-Iron camera. That man—Albert Einstein.

Nah, just kidding, it was me.

“Sup internet. It’s your boi, Chaaaooosss Theoorry! We’ve finally reached 30 subs—one small step for me, and an even smaller step for my ad revenue. I couldn’t have done it without all your love and affection.”

I hopped onto the chain-link fence. To others, this fence was a barrier between the roof and death, but to me, it was a solid platform. Almost. I slipped off five times, but teleportation had my back.

Morning sunlight reflected off my black suit and painted little rainbows on the concrete roof. They swirled into existence as I moved. Car horns heralded the waking of citizens. Sour smog above the city skyline filled my lungs with crisp air and the tiniest hint of lung cancer.

“Today we’ll be pranking Genewall, oldest and moldiest biotech company on the block.”

I oohed and aahed to cheer myself on. Everyone needed a hype man. My hype man was me.

“These nerds need to lighten up. Artificial limbs? Useless! Especially their CEO, Tombo. That cheapskate owes me two bucks and a bagel.”

I teleported a top hat onto my wavy green-dyed hair, cut in the current Youtuber fashion, and a cane into my free hand. With my long twirly moustache, I was the spitting image of a classic magician.

“Now for my first trick, their chairs will disappear.”

I focused my camera on the building across from me. A woman in a lab coat bent to sit in her chair, but I teleported it a foot away, so she fell on her butt.

“Hehe, victim number one. Who’s next?”

I peered through the building with my Spectral Vision and aimed my camera at each person pranked. Soon, not a single person sat in the entire building. Scientists complained to their superiors as I chortled in the distance.

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“Oops.”

A woman shook a vending machine because it ate her cash. It tipped over and nearly crushed her, but I teleported it back into position. Chaos Theory 1, vending machine 0.

“Ah crap, I accidentally recorded that. Gotta remember to edit that out.”

I wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea. I’m a dastardly villain, not a dastardly hero. My subscribers expected pranks, and that was what they’d get.

Scientists brought chairs into the building from outside. Ah yes, truly the century’s greatest minds. Maybe the chairs were the problem. I shifted their chairs every time they passed the entrance so they’d think an invisible wall blocked their path, but only against chairs.

“Hmm, who’s that?”

A man wearing a green hoodie slipped into Genewall HQ hidden beneath an invisibility cloak. His scuffed combat boots made no noise as he slid through the building. Endless knives and firearms studded his ripped jeans and continued hidden under his hoodie.

“Wow, that dude’s up to no good. If you guys want me to follow him, give me a thumbs up. I’ll go if there’s at least one.”

I put my thumb up.

“The people have spoken. I shall trail him with utmost caution.”

When he entered an empty hallway, I teleported before him, my camera ready to capture him in 4k, but not really because my computer couldn’t render that resolution.

“Stop right there, criminal scum! Nobody breaks the law on my watch! I'm confiscating your stolen goods. Now pay your fine or it's off to jail.”

He froze. Fool, nobody could hide from Chaos Theory. I yanked off his invisibility cloak, exposing his treachery. In return, he lashed at me with a knife, but I teleported his arm back to the same place over and over so it looked like he was lagging. The man snarled under his hood’s shadow.

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“A fucking hero in their pharmaceuticals branch? Good. Genewall must hide shady shit here. Who are you?”

I posed with my hand on my hip and the other hand holding my camera.

“My fans call me Chaos Theory, evil supervillain mastermind, however my real name is Chaos Theory. I’m here to mess with you.”

He stilled. Yes, I was amazing. Praise me. The man’s arms blurred as he shot four rounds at me with a hidden handgun. With my Spectral Vision, I saw this coming and preemptively dodged….

“My camera! Nooo!”

A stray bullet hit my camera and put a hole through it. Sparks flew within the wreckage.

“Do you know how long it’ll take me to steal another one? Like, 10 minutes. That’s the entire wait time between ordering and receiving a Big Whopper from McBurger King, now two for two dollars at participating locations™.”

He emptied his magazine at me and reloaded. Shells clanked over sterile white tiles and echoed across the hall. He sucked at being stealthy. I teleported my broken camera back home. Salvaging the video could come later.

“Did you need to kill my camera? Pyx-Iron’s aren’t easy to find in today’s marke—“

Billowing wind pushed his hood down. He had short brown hair like coffee with heavy cream and three pumps of white mocha, shaken not stirred. His hazel eyes sparkled like a freshly greased McBurger King grill.

My heart beat so hard, so fast. What is this? I’ve never experienced this feeling before. This pain in my chest, cold and unyielding, yet sweet and inviting. The addicting feeling spread through my torso and deep inside my bones. As it reached my spine, I shivered in bliss. Yes, this must be it—heart disease.

I teleported behind him and knocked the gun from his hand. He tried to flee, but nobody could escape my grasp. I boxed him in with my arms against the wall and closed in, a full head shorter. His breath and mine intertwined. My body screamed at me. I knew what I needed to do. I held his chin and brought his waist closer. My lips traveled to his ear.

“Are you five Big Whoppers slathered in butter? Because you give me heart palpitations.”

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