Is this what godhood feels like?

It’s everything I can do not to start cackling like a maniac when our hands touch. I was expecting something powerful, sure, but not this!

I’ve had two powers before this one, of course.

The first time was Yang Xiao Long’s Burn semblance. Kinetic absorption and delayed redirection, the berserker’s dream. It felt like someone was pumping my veins full of power every time I got hit, except the veins flowed everywhere.

It also came with actual Super Smash Bros final smash visual effects. Let me tell you, if you ever get the chance for your eyes to turn red and your hair to start glowing with soulfire, take it and never look back. Nothing trumps that look, and the power itself was actually pretty simple. Get hit. Wait. Hit ‘em really hard back. Rinse and repeat. For my first time, it was really easy to get a handle on. Yang herself had problems early in the series with activating it early out of anger, but I never had issues.

On the complete opposite of the spectrum was Momo Yaoyorozu’s Creation. Holy chungadero was that complicated. The usage itself took an incredible amount of visualization skill just to create even basic objects, let alone anything interesting like an engine.

You know when she makes that scooter to ride on in the anime during the first day of class? It looks so easy, until you realize just how complicated a scooter is on a molecular level. I still feel like she should have gone as a support hero. Her power was built for that sort of thing, and she had the genius to back it up.

I had to lean heavily on her memories to make anything decent, and I spent hours studying The Anarchist’s Cookbook and Wikipedia trying to get a grasp on creating each ingredient before I was able to make a simple bomb. Seriously. Why didn’t she want to learn about explosives? Sure, it’s not very heroic, but one day you are going to come across a problem only a big boom can solve, and Bakugo isn’t going to be there to save you.

The choice paralysis of being able to make anything but you have to make the correct thing right now was also really bad. Needless to say, her power had an incredible amount of depth and potential, but it didn’t come with an instruction manual.

Amy’s power came with an instruction manual.

One touch, and I knew exactly how everything about him worked. I could feel each pulse of the atria and ventricle chambers of his heart and it was obvious he had to be at least a marathon runner to have such a strong cardiovascular system. His liver was currently filtering out trace amounts of alcohol and partnering with his gallbladder to pump bile into the small intestine, and the less we talk about the large intestine the better. I could feel every minute twitch in his muscles as he pulled me up. He was in great shape, but I also couldn’t find any signs of attraction towards me.

I guess Amy’s body wasn’t hot enough for him, and probably not hot enough period. Good to know the seduction tricks are off the table this run. I was getting sick of those anyway.

Or maybe he’s gay. I dunno.

That was just the macro level view though. I could feel every detail of every cell, from the mitochondria generating adenosine triphosphate like a good little engine that could, to the nucleus directing everything and protecting its chromosomes. I knew the composition of every red blood cell as they ran oxygen back and forth. I cheered on a white blood cell as it consumed the remains of a strep throat bacteria. The smallest intricacies about every microscopic object and action I knew intimately.

If Burn felt like power through pain, and Creation felt like building a Lego set, Queen Shaper felt like a tapestry. A work of art. Every thread interlocking together to serve the greater whole. Not perfect, but intricate in a way I will never be able to fully describe.

It was beautiful, and I could do anything with it. Unravel and reweave the smallest of details or the largest of organs. His body was mine. Everything that made him him was mine to command! I was a go-

He let go of my hand and looked at me strangely. “Hey, are you alright?”

Oh. Whoops. I got caught up in the moment there. You can’t blame me though. It’s not every day you see and command an entire human body at the same time. I was going to have to cancel the instant mind control plan though. I could remake life itself with basically no effort, but I could feel how slow it was going to be. Maybe a few minutes at most, but at any moment someone could turn around that corner and see Panacea brainwashing a random guy in the middle of the hallway.

I could probably come up with an excuse of how he needed healing, but I didn’t want to risk it. Best to stay as much in character as possible.

Wait a minute. Did he just say the same phrase to check up on me again? Just how limited was this guy’s vocabulary? Maybe I shou- no, focus. Don’t screw this up. Acting subroutines go!

I smile- wait no I don’t smile. Amy doesn’t smile. I brush myself off and nod to him. “I’m fine. Really. Thanks though.”

He shrugs. “No problem, Panacea. Are you ready? It’s a slow day right now, but there are a few people with strep throat and I think we have a kid with a broken arm across the hall.”

I have to make sure not to smile again as I think of a certain mad doctor. “Let’s go practice medicine.”

----​

You would think allowing a teenager to perform surgery on a forty year old male, with a power whose origins science still cannot explain, in a city as bad as Brockton Bay, would require some adult supervision.

Nope!

He just pointed at the room and said something about a broken leg and a bad cough and how they don’t want to risk getting sick when I’m immune and left me there. What do the doctors here do anyway? Isn’t Amy running them out of a job?

Well, I won’t complain. Privacy to experiment is something I desperately need right now, and we have a full hospital of volunteers all ready to go! I step into the room and shut the door behind me. “Hello. I am Amy Dallon.” I almost stumble as I feel an incredible amount of revulsion from Amy. I can mute her, but I can’t block her emotions.

I asked the boss about that once and I am just supposed to suck it up. Whatever. I’ve gotten used to it before. This time will be no different. “Also known as Panacea. Do I have your permission to heal you?”

The man looks up from where he is lying on the hospital bed. Or is it a hospital cot? I sift through Amy’s memories. Both work, but she called it a bed. “Yes ma’am. You have my permission.”

Wow! How polite! I know for a fact most of Amy’s patients were rude or at least indifferent to her healing and took it for granted. I don’t have to search through her memories to know that people suck.

Oh, wait, he is still talking. I’d better listen. “-yesight too? If it isn’t too much trouble.”

It takes me a second to realize what he asked, and then I give him a small smile. “Normally I don’t do unnecessary healing on principle, but you are being very polite and I am in a good mood today.” I reach out and place my hand on his leg. Who wears shorts at the beginning of April? Really. “I am going to have to put you to sleep for a few minutes and then you will wake up with a fixed leg, cured cough, and nearly perfect eyesight. Are you ready?”

He nods seriously. “Yes ma’am. Thank you ma’am.” Goddoodles, he is really working to make me feel guilty about this huh? Too bad old man. I’ve walked that road before. I bring up how Amy usually puts people under and follow along. Three seconds later his eyes glaze over. That’s kind of creepy. If you go too fast they don’t even have time to close their eyes.

Let’s take a look around hmm? The leg is a clean break. No shards of bone to pick out of the muscle. Just some bending in directions they are not designed to go. I flex my power and the muscle moves out of the way as the bone realigns itself. As I put the muscle back I feel horror start to grow from Amy.

I can’t help it, I tap my forehead and start whispering to myself. “That’s right panpan. The power you hate is mine now, and thanks to your paranoia only your family knows how crazy it is.” I smirk slightly. “That won’t be a problem for much longer. Please keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times. It’s going to be a wild ride!”

The horror recedes under the immense pressure of pure hatred and anger. I ignore it. There will be time to talk later.

I focus my attention on the bacteria running around. There is a small infection being slowly torn apart and pushed toward the lungs, so I help it along. The man lets out a loud wheeze as it all gets spat out at once. Whoops. I probably could have just eradicated the infection personally.

Actually, that's fine. I’m immune, and if someone gets sick I get to feel them up.

I frown. That did not come out right.

Problems one and two are completed, so I take a look at the clock. 4:23 pm. She must have been flown straight here from school. What a tryhard. I drum my fingers on the bed. Now for the most important part. How fast can I rewrite a personality?

----​

The answer is twelve minutes. Technically I can go a lot faster, but if I don’t take my time to double check every last detail I am bound to miss something and make a vegetable out of him.

I would tell you how I did it, but I don’t fully understand it either. Brains are complicated, and if Queen Shaper didn’t already have instructions on how to rewrite a brain to make it loyal to you, I would still be hunched over his leg tracing neurons.

At this point Amy’s horror is back in full force, so I start whispering to myself again. “Relax girlfriend. I have a perfectly good reason for all of this. We’ll talk later.” It shifts to half suspicion and disbelief and half red hot anger. Can’t extend a little trust huh?

I am about to wake him back up when I realize I completely forgot about his eyes. I let out a sigh as I bring up memories of Vicky’s perfect eyesight and do some tweaking of his lens. That, of course, leads to more memories of Amy crushing on her sister, so I have to slam the door on that real fast.

He blinks rapidly as he wakes up. His eyes are really red. Gee golly gosh darn it, I should have closed his eyes so they didn’t dry out. I knew I forgot something.

He turns his head to look at me as I stretch myself out. I need one of those office chairs with wheels so I don’t have to hunch over every time I fix a patient. “Is there anything you need me to do ma’am? I live to serve.”

Somehow Amy’s horror pulses even stronger. What did you expect? A puppet? You were watching the whole time! “Nah dude. You were just an experiment so I could learn how to do it. You’re free to live your life. If you see me in the news because I got captured or something you can try to break me out. Otherwise do whatever I don’t give a carp.”

He nods politely. “I will endeavor to be ready in case you need me. Thank you for your healing.” As he slips out the door to check out of the hospital, I hum to myself. Is he polite because he is always polite or because of the mind control? I should test how the original personality translates over.

I walk out of the room to find the same nurse leaning against the wall. Do these people work here or not?! Go defibrillate some people or something!

He looks up from his phone. “That took longer than usual. You alright?”

I swear to Bob Ross I am going to snap and tear apart his mind. Vocabulary is important! None of that is shown on my face though. You could say I have some experience working undercover. “Yeah. I’m fine. The leg was worse than it looked and the infection was pretty deep.”

All lies, but the best kind of lies are the ones no one can check. I bet they didn’t even do a brief checkup, and I just erased all of the evidence.

He shrugs, looks back at his phone, and continues texting.

----​

I finish up the rest of the patients. I don’t mess with their minds though. Being a thrall does not mean being a good actor or having common sense, and I don’t want to risk one of them killing someone else over a passing insult because I don’t heal enough people or something.

The nurse is long gone at this point, and while Amy normally stays until midnight I feel like I can get away with leaving early. I glance at the clock. 6:47 pm.

Good enough.

I take out Amy’s phone and bring up Vicky’s contact information. Amy immediately starts screaming in my head. I look up at the ceiling in thought.

This isn’t part of the plan, but I don’t see any reason why I can’t do it now. I turn the phone off, to Amy’s confusion and relief, and head over to an empty hospital room and lock the door. I know Carol can probably track my phone, because she’s a paranoid wretch of a mother, but I doubt she can listen through it, and no one bugs a hospital room. What are they going to hear? A patient being rude to Panacea again?

I walk over to the mirror above the sink. I can’t help it. It’s too much of a cliché not to use. Then I put my weight on my right leg and my hand on my hip. “Alright panpan. Let’s talk.” I flick the mute off.

A moment of silence.

‘What. Are. You. Doing.’