3rd POV - Makenzie (Hell's Kitchen, January 4th 2002, 9:00am)
Groaning, Alex turned over in his sleep, trying to keep the blinding sun out of his eyes. Damn his older sister for getting him blinds without taking proper measurements. He still hasn't saved enough to replace them.
With his eyes closed tight, Alex attempted to sleep again, but his alert senses registered his environment. The first thing that hit him was the sheer amount of noise — he could hear the crunch of gravel as people walked, the rustle of clothes as they passed one another, and the distinct sound of tires screeching and horns honking in the far distance. But what made his eyes fly open was the smell. Wherever he was, it reeked of garbage.
His eyes shot open, and he barely had a chance to register that he was lying on a pile of garbage before he was doubling over, hand clamped over his mouth, desperately trying not to throw up. It took a full minute to get his gag reflex under control, but once he did, Alex — no, Makenzie — stood up and inspected his surroundings. This didn't look like one of his usual spots away from the shelter. Where was he?
The rush of memories hit like a freight train, and he was back on the ground before he could blink. Nauseous again, he curled into a ball, tightening his stomach in a hasty attempt to keep from puking. Images raced through his thoughts—the previous day, awakening as Makenzie, the homeless orphan; getting kidnapped by the Russians, the desperation as he realized his situation, calling for help, and then, him, Reaper, the one who answered his call and all the things he did afterwards.
Alex stayed curled up next to a pile of trash bags that someone had specifically chosen to annoy him when he woke up. His mind reeled. Yesterday, Mackenzie had been a normal 14-year-old (if majorly malnourished). Now he was some kind of amalgamation of Alex and Makenzie. And that wasn't the worst part. No, that honor went to the dozen of memories he had of watching movies about this world. HIS WORLD! A.I.M, HYDRA, Apocalypse, Thanos, and so many more threats were out there, waiting to sink their teeth into Earth.
What was his course of action in the midst of all that? He's just a normal person. The only individuals in this messed-up world who can validate his knowledge are more prone to causing doomsday than saving the world, despite his new set of memories. No, Alex decided with a shake of his head — he wouldn't be approaching any telepaths soon. Not until he had some way to block their powers.
Once more, panic rushed through him, leading Makenzie to reach inside himself and pull out something previously unnoticed. The reaction was immediate; his body exploded into black smoke before clumping back together and rising until Reaper's full form stood proudly in the small alley. Except now it was still Alex behind the mask.
Marvelling at the power coursing through his body, Alex took a deep breath before pushing the sensation back down. The transformation rescinded as quickly as it had arrived, leaving Alex standing in the alley once more. A giddy smile spread across his face as he reached inside himself again, now focusing on a different hero.
The transformation took longer this time. The new form slowly sank into him, changing him bit by bit. He grew from his diminutive 4'9 to an impressive 6'1. His lanky limbs filled out with his new height, bringing with them a heady feeling of power. His hair bled white, and a mask with a red visor materialized over his face. "Unbelievable." he breathed, his voice rougher than before — both surprising and expected, as Soldier 76's experience and memories settled within him.
"Hmmm. I'll need to practice this." If every new transformation I undergo is as time-consuming as this one, it's advisable to integrate with them beforehand for important tasks. When he released the transformation, Mackenzie was relieved to note that while his thoughts had slowed down considerably (which felt awful but hey—superpowers), he could still follow the train of thought he'd had as Soldier 76 without issue.
Deciding to get an early head start, Makenzie — He's Makenzie now; Alex died — turned, heading deeper into the alley, careful to keep away from the sleeping homeless who are using the alley to escape the chilly wind that had arrived with the new year. Makenzie navigated the twisting streets for a few minutes before coming to a stop, quickly scanning his surroundings before calling out for a hero again.
Once again, his body slowly changed. His height increased, though not nearly to the degree of his prior transformations. Instead, he watched, fascinated, as his flesh turned into metal. In place of veins, glowing green circuits spread across his body. With a final click, a green visor slid over his eyes. Where once stood Makenzie—a homeless orphan — now stood Genji, son of the Shimada clan and hero of Overwatch.
With a thought, the circuits covering his body dimmed, and his metallic form subtly darkened. He launched himself onto the roof of a nearby building, blending seamlessly into the cityscape as he made his way towards the docks of Hell's Kitchen.
With the feds cracking down on Hell's Kitchen, the district's gangs are likely lying low. People knew the docks as Russian territory, so if he's careful, a couple of unused warehouses should be available and of no interest to anyone investigating the Russians and their attackers.
Perching on the smoke column of a factory across from the docks, Makenzie scanned the area while Genji's visor displayed various readings, highlighting heat signatures and marking important details. He would need to recalibrate the suit to adjust the interface to his new circumstances, but the equipment was expensive. It would be a lengthy process to gather enough funds to build what he would need in the future.
He'll think about it more while running through the roster once or twice to see how much time he could shave off his transformations—and who knows? One of his heroes might come up with a solution to his dilemma while he's at it.
….
30 minutes later, Makenzie sat tiredly with his back against the warehouse's cool steel. Resting his head, trying to ease the headache that had onset after he'd released his last transformation. Cycling through life stories was a taxing process, and he felt throughly drained. Not to mention the initial discomfort of transforming between a human and superhuman and back again.
All said and done, he'd probably pushed himself harder than he should, but he'd managed to complete the Overwatch support roster. From Ana to Zenyatta, absorbing their memories and briefly testing their physical condition. Well, all except Zenyatta, Makenzie, had only managed about 3 seconds before the horrid unfamiliarity of code and steel had forced him back into his own body. The dissonance had lasted longer than with any other transformation. He'd needed a 5 minute break before he had regathered himself enough to continue.
He'd come back to mechanical forms later. As he understood it, Zenyatta is likely the most human among his Omnic heroes. If he can't handle him, then Bastion—a veritable war robot—and any other Omnics are beyond him. Maybe Echo, with her bio-mechanical engineering, might help adjust to the jarring transformations. He'd focus on it later right now, he has more important things to think about.
Moving through the supports had offered a variety of insight on how to move forward. First, he would need to find an abandoned building—easy in Hell's Kitchen—he would restore power and other essentials while also looting the local gangs. The Russians' overnight collapse will draw lots of hungry sharks to the waters, bodies, money, and most valuably equipment will stream into Hell's Kitchen as they compete for business.
Looting convoy's or temporary safe houses will provide the funds he'd need to begin setting a temporary base. It would be jury-rigged tech, but he can make do with it temporarily until the next step provides results. Getting him out of whatever hole in the ground he'd be staying in.
That next step? Getting Mercy a job at Oscorp before subtly beginning to take the company away from Norman Osborn. Not only will this allow Makenzie to prevent a vast majority of Spiderman's villains from ever getting powers, but it would also provide him a billion dollar source of revenue to fund his future endeavours. It wouldn't be enough long term after all, he has a legion of heroes to equip and doesn't possess Batman's unlimited coffers.
Makenzie would have to stretch himself thin, designing medicine as Mercy, attacking gangs as Reaper, monitoring/blackmailing Oscorp stakeholders as Sombra and many more if unexpected variables disrupt his plans. But he doesn't have any options. Neither Alex nor Makenzie exist and coming out as a superhuman right now is asking to get attacked by anti-mutant protestors. Captain America is still on ice. No one cares to distinguish mutants from non-mutants right now. If it's super, it's a problem.
He needs the insurance and positive rep Oscorp will provide him before he steps out into the spotlight of this perilous world. But before any of that, he has one other task to perform, and he refuses to allow anything to get in his way.
Flowing onto the roof of the building after a sufficient break with plans to break into a drugstore—a criminal front if he can manage—for some advil, Makenzie dashed across the roof, eyes locked onto the opposing rooftop before his body disintegrated and reformed moving him dozens of meters in an instant. His senses peeled on the lookout for any sign of criminal activity, with only one thought on his mind.
'Before the week is out, I will save Jessica Jones, and Kilgrave will die a painful death.'