The next two went smoothly, Metropolis’s trust making it almost too simple.
First, Albert Heinz in a quiet alley behind a bookstore after his shift.
Ethan cornered him, knocking him out and grabbing his arm to steal the scent-masking powers.
Then Jesse Nash who was able to alter his voice and mimic anyone he’d heard before.
Getting into his apartment was almost too easy; prior research on him had marked him as a avid drug user, so he only needed to market himself as such and he was able to get inside and take his power, all while shooting him up with a sedative that he’d stolen from the hospital.
Jesse was by far the easiest target of the day and while he didn’t have the most useful power, it was definitely going to help Ethan buy some time for himself.
Now the only one who remained was Lucy Cannon.
While her regenerative ability was on the minor side, any kind of ability that let Ethan heal would be a boon to him—at least until he could get something better.
Lucy lived in a richer area of Metropolis, close to the Daily Planet newspaper.
While it had all been easy until this point, he found himself being a lot more cautious.
Logically speaking he knew that it was because in Gotham richer areas like this had a lot more security.
That logic didn’t apply to Metropolis.
While there were richer and more humble areas, none were any safer than the other—or at least the margins were so small it didn’t matter.
Despite knowing this he was still cautious, and it was the reason he left her until last and had come up with a special plan for her.
Getting into the building would be easy, he just needed to imitate a pizza delivery person.
He would call for a pizza delivery to the apartment itself and then intercept said delivery person and take their place.
Once he was inside the building it was just a matter of using one of his new abilities.
Lucy’s husband had recently died, which Ethan had found out when stalking her social media.
There were also quite a few videos of the both of them.
Logically speaking this was overly elaborate and based on experience he should be able to get them to open the door without such methods, but in all honestly Ethan just wanted to use his new powers.
Now dressed as a Pizza delivery boy, Ethan was able to easily walk past the security desk and go straight to the 14th floor.
Apartment 53A was on the left hand side of the corridor.
He discarded the pizza delivery uniform and pizza down the garbage chute before he knocked on the apartment door.
“Lucy, honey?!
Are you there,” he spoke while using his voice mimicry.
“Please let me inside,” he added.
It surprised Ethan at how masterful the imitation was; it was as if there was perfect coordination between his ears and the muscles controlling his throat.
Ethan readied the cloth filled with chloroform as he heard extremely fast footsteps coming towards the door.
The moment the door slammed open Ethan put the rag to her mouth and pushed himself inside and shut the door, all in one smooth motion.
‘Damn it…’ he thought to himself as he lowered the girl onto the floor.
For such an overly elaborate plan, to not consider the fact she might not be alone was pure idiocy.
He should’ve scouted the apartment beforehand, but he was overly confident as all the other encounters had gone so well.
But now he was standing in Lucy’s apartment with a rag over her mouth and in front of him was another woman.
She had dark hair passed her shoulders, blue eyes and red lips.
Conventionally beautiful, but she was dressed in what could simply be described as an office outfit—a shirt, blazer and a skirt.
Ethan expected her to scream, but contrary to that she instead reached into her purse and pulled out a taser.
Ethan dropped Lucy and using his new power, he flipped on one hand away from the electrical prongs that had fired towards him.
“You bastard!” She spat before she jumped over the sofa and disconnected the prongs—changing it into close range mode.
Ethan easily avoided each jab of the taser before he bent her elbow inwards and forced her to tase herself.
He caught her before she collapsed to the ground and set her by the sofa, but not before taking the taser, disassembling it, and throwing it in the sink.
Ethan sighed as he stood up, then he waited.
One second, two seconds, five seconds, ten seconds.
No one came, there was no whip-crack of the sound barrier breaking nor was there a boy in blue stood behind him wiggling his finger.
It seemed he’d managed not to draw any attention.
Ethan moved over to Lucy who still lay on the ground, he then grabbed her wrist and ripped her power out of her and absorbed it into himself.
The familiar rush of endorphins came quickly after, but Ethan managed to smother them as he focused on the more pressing issue of getting the hell out of here before he pressed his luck any further.
He was done with metropolis for now, he just needed to get back to Gotham.
The list of things he had to deal with was getting shorter and he was well on his way to gaining a little security, he just needed to do a few more things.
First he needed to get rid of these clothes and wear his spares, then create an alibi for the cops when they eventually find out about his little trip here.
Which they will.
They’d no doubt link Renee Montoya’s disappearance with his departure to Metropolis.
They’ll also be able to link both explosions to him the same way, though all of that is circumstantial so it didn’t worry him.
They’d need to show motive and for that they’d need evidence that he killed Creedence which they didn’t have because he blew up City Hall servers.
Without that camera footage all they could do is point fingers.
Ethan smiled to himself as he left the apartment the game was coming close to its conclusion, it was a shame they were playing against him.
_____________________________________
The train slid into Gotham Central a little after three.
Ethan stepped off with a plain duffel and a change of clothes, crossed the concourse without looking up at the cracked skylight, and cut out through a side door where the cabs idled with their hoods rattling.
Two turns, one glance in a dark window to make sure no one had peeled off and followed him, then he walked, heading back to his apartment.
*Bzzzt*
Barbara: hey…
are you free today to work on the plan for the national science competition?
He stopped under a dead streetlight and thought about whether he should accept.
In truth he planned to rest until later tonight after which he’d go back towards the mansion and feed the detective.
He decided to accept her invitation, he needed to work on his plan for a Super Serum and getting started sooner rather than later was better.
Hyperadrenal was his best offensive power so he needed to mitigate its drawbacks.
Ethan: I can.
When?
Barbara: now is good if that’s okay
Ethan: on my way
He swapped jackets in a doorway, dumped the old one in a bin, and took a bus east.
The windows turned the city into a smear.
He got off two stops early and walked the rest, counting crosswalk seconds, letting the tick steady his thoughts.
Her place was a narrow brick row house.
He buzzed.
He then heard Footsteps on wood, then the latch and the chain and the door opening just enough for a shy smile before it opened all the way.
She wore a soft sweater with the sleeves pushed up and her hair tied back and she nudged her glasses higher when she smiled.
She smiled shyly, cheeks flushing slightly as she let him in.
“Hey, Ethan.
Thanks for coming over so quick.”
“No problem,” he replied flatly, stepping inside.
He looked around as he didn’t hear the sounds of any other footsteps or voices.
“Where is everyone else?”
Barbara waved it off, her gaze flickering away.
“They’re out.
We’ve got the place to ourselves, no interruptions so we can.” She led him to her room, her steps a bit tentative.
Ethan followed, not probing further; people’s family dynamics weren’t something he dwelled on.
In her room, a large whiteboard dominated one wall, filled with equations and charts.
“Nice board,” he said matter-of-factly.
“I have one like it.”
Barbara’s eyes lit up.
“Really?
That’s awesome!” She reached out, touching his arm briefly before pulling back, blushing deeply.
“Sorry, I just…
yeah, let’s get started.”
Ethan didn’t notice the subtle shift in Barbara’s posture as he turned to the whiteboard, marker in hand.
He began sketching out the core structure of the formula, lines connecting compounds in a precise web.
“Yesterday I brought up a DNA based entry for the science competition and I believe I have one that’s viable,” he said while continuing to write.
“The idea is a serum that boosts base human abilities by about twofold for a temporary period, say an hour or two.
Nothing permanent, just enough to give an edge in high-stress situations without long-term risks.”
Barbara sat on the edge of her bed, crossing her legs as she watched him, her brow furrowing slightly.
“Temporary enhancement?
Ethan, that’s ambitious.
People have tried super serums before but most ended badly; organ failure, psychological breakdowns, even mutations that turned test subjects into…
well, monsters.
What makes yours different?
How will we avoid the side effects?”
He paused, capping the marker briefly before uncapping it again, his tone even and detached.
“It’s in the binding agents.
We’d use a modified adenosine receptor agonist as the base, paired with a neural amplifier like a synthetic nootropic.
The twofold boost comes from temporarily overclocking ATP production in cells, but with a built-in decay mechanism; enzymes that break it down after the peak.
Meaning no lingering buildup.”
She tilted her head, pushing her glasses up her nose.
“ATP overclocking?
That sounds like it could spike lactic acid levels, leading to fatigue or worse.
Have you thought about mitochondrial stress?
Cells aren’t designed for that kind of surge.”
Ethan nodded, adding a side note to the board.
That’s why we’d incorporate a mitochondrial protectant, something like a derivative of CoQ10, stabilized in liposomes for targeted delivery.
It buffers the energy spike, prevents oxidative damage.
Tests in simulations show it caps the risk at minimal—maybe a headache at worst.”
Barbara leaned forward, her skepticism giving way to intrigue.
“Simulations?
You’ve run models already?
What about bioavailability?
Injecting it means fast uptake, but oral would be safer for competition demos.
How do you ensure it crosses the blood-brain barrier without carriers that could cause inflammation?”
“Peptide shuttles,” he replied without hesitation, drawing a quick diagram of the molecular chain.
“Non-immunogenic ones, engineered to ferry the active compounds across.
I’ve tweaked the sequence to avoid cytokine storm.
It should integrate smoothly, ramp up neural firing rates for the cognition boost, and enhance myosin-actin interactions for the physical side.”
Her eyes widened as she absorbed it, standing up slowly and approaching the board.
“Myosin-actin…
you’re talking myofibril efficiency?
That’s clever, but you’d need a calcium channel modulator to prevent cramps.
Here, let me…” Forgetting her earlier hesitation, she took the marker from his hand, their fingers brushing without her pulling away this time.
She filled in a gap in the formula, adding a branching path for ion regulation.
“Like this…
add a low-dose verapamil analog.
It stabilizes the surge.”
Ethan stepped back slightly, surprised by her addition, but he didn’t comment on it.
Instead, he examined it.
“That works.
It ties into the decay phase perfectly.
We could calibrate the dosage based on body mass to make it scalable.”
They bounced ideas back and forth, markers switching hands as equations filled the board.
Barbara’s questions grew better, probing weak points, and Ethan’s explanations filled them in, layer by layer.
She suggested a feedback loop using biofeedback markers to auto-adjust the serum’s intensity mid-use; he countered with a simpler enzymatic timer to avoid complexity.
Together, they refined the structure, crossing out flaws and building on strengths until the formula coalesced into something viable—a blueprint that, on paper at least, looked flawless.
When the last variable clicked into place, Barbara let out a squeal of excitement, dropping the marker and launching herself at him.
She jumped up, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist in a tight hug.
“We did it!
Ethan, this is genius!
We actually have a working formula!”
Ethan caught her instinctively, his hands steadying her ass, but his expression remained blank with some slight surprise.
The sudden closeness registered as an odd variable in human behavior, not unpleasant but unexpected.
As her excitement faded, Barbara’s face turned crimson, and she quickly unwound herself, jumping down and stepping back.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry!
That was…
I didn’t mean to…
sorry, Ethan, really!”
“It’s fine,” he said simply, brushing it off without emotion.
Barbara turned away, fidgeting with her hands as she moved toward the bed, twisting her fingers together.
“Yeah, okay…
um…”
“Barbara,” Ethan said.
She spun back, pushing her glasses up again.
“Yes?”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course,” she replied, her voice a bit higher than usual.
“Are you romantically interested in me?”
(AN: Mission successful, new powers obtained and avoided superman.
Anyway I’m playing with the idea of him making a super soldier serum to mitigate the heart defects of using hyperandrenal.
His body could theoretically handle more stress and yada yada yada.
Hope you enjoyed.)
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