Chapter Text
In the middle of the city, there sat a number of commercial skyscrapers.
Nearly every one looked identical to the other. Looking between them, you'd be hard pressed to identify a difference or guess what went on inside as opposed to the others. The only exceptions of course being those who worked there, and had to know where to be at what time, on what floor, at what desk.
On the 42nd floor of a business complex internally titled 'PD Consulting', there sat a number of office workers.
Nearly every one looked identical to the other. Looking between them, you'd be hard pressed to identify a difference. It wasn't a wholly unfair observation. Whilst every human has their own rich inner world, traits and peculiarities, with depths that only become apparent outside of these particular walls, it would be a hard claim to say that any of the people present were anything out of the ordinary.
Leant back in his desk chair, a particular man stifled a yawn. Staring at his computer screen through standard convex glasses, brushing back a neatly-trimmed fringe of black hair, settled in a slightly oversized but otherwise unremarkable black suit... this man looked so generic that apon first encounter, your eyes were tempted to glance over him as if he was not even there. Present with his briefcase and tie neatly centered, he was what one might imagine the google result for 'standard Chinese office worker' to be.
A female coworker had told him something along these lines once, either in an attempt to be catty or simply out of socially misaligned boldness, but in place of offence he had chuckled and told her that he was glad she thought so.
No one could quite get a grasp on him, but it didn't matter when 'he' was so inconsequential to begin with.
Still, it had yet to make him fully blend in, and that fact was something the man sorely resented as the door to his shared office space was thrown open and against the wall with a sickening cRACK.
More than one coworker jumped out of their seats. Utensils, pages of accounting and clerical information fell to the floor, and all of it was ignored by the culprit of the disruption. Shoving past an intern who stuttered and flailed, a middle aged man marched straight up to the desk of That Very Boring Man, who himself looked as though he was trying to figure out how to blend in with his chair with how much he sank back into it. All fatigue long forgotten.
"█████!"
The young man jerked, eyebrows jumping, lips struggling before forming a pacifying smile. "Ah. Yes?"
"You know precisely what you have done, so don't you dare try to play innocent with me!" The older man snarled. He was a balding drone somewhere in his late 50s, with small tufts of grey hair determinately sticking to the sides of his head and the feeble remains of what was once a moustache protruding from his face. Though his teeth were bleached white, all that spat from between his lips was pure venom. "And how dare you not address me by title! Is it your want to make a mockery of me today?!"
The younger man winced. "Manager Jianhong."
"You were in charge of the report sent out last week, your name is last on the file! Do you have any excuse for what you've done?" Manager Jianhong snarled, reaching into the inner of his blazer with the fervour of a man grasping for a gun. Instead, though no less intimidatingly, he withdrew several sheets of paper and shoved it in the other man's face.
Adjusting his glasses, the young man leant forward and took what was proferred. After a moment of skimming, he winced. "Oh dear." Looking back up, the eyes of his boss were deadly black. Before he could try further attempts at appeasement, a wrinkled hand dug into the front of his shirt, digging into his collar and wrenching him up and out of his seat. Somewhere else in the room he thought he heard a feminine gasp and some shuffling, but with his superior's face right up against his own he could hardly veer to see who was gawking at the scene.
"Oh dear? Oh DEAR?!" Manager Jianhong seethed. "You could have had us charged for fraud! You should consider yourself a damn sight lucky that my assistant caught the error before it was seen the next morning, or we would have faced much worse charge than 'Erroneous Disclosure! Do you not check your work before you send it, do you not re-read sensitive financial documentation?!" turning menacingly to see the other workers, he waved a shaking finger at the lot of them and saw them back away. "What the hell do you do when I'm not looking! Is there no communication? Do you gibber like mindless children? Must I micromanage you, or might I sack the lot of you?!"
"Manager Jianhong" the young man tried, "I am truly sorry, the numerical fault was mine alone and I should have seen the error before it was submitted. Please, it is no one's fault but mine. I will fix things."
Shoulders heaving, steam practically coming out of his nostrils, his manager took several slow, careful breaths. Then, with finality, he dumped the other back into his chair.
"You had better." He hissed, straightening his jacket and slamming the papers down on the other's desk. "Or you can consider your position in this company subject to change."
With that up in the air, the elder stormed back out from whence he came.
For a long stretch of moments there was stunned silence. It wasn't atypical for their boss or other seniors to come in and let loose on one of them, but to be physically accosted was an escalation. All eyes turned to the young man, who seemed surprisingly disaffected. Guilt was evident and he gave them an apologetic little nod, but otherwise appeared unshaken as he set his things in place, opened the sheets he had been handed and began to work.
A coworker finally articulated, "Are you okay?"
The young man looked up. "Yes."
"...Are you sure?" The other tried. A coffee cup was held tightly in one hand, forgotten. "Your shirt, it's all..." he gestured helplessly.
Looking down, the man realized he was right. The top button of his shirt had been torn off and the upper half of it was a crinkled mess, ruined from its nicely ironed state just prior. His tie was aksew.
"Oh dear." Was all he said, and set to work straightening himself out.
Thrown off but given nothing to work with, everyone else slowly returned to their own arrangements. The young man did not speak again for the rest of his shift.
Who knew a misplaced decimal could trigger such havoc?
.
.
.
It was late in the afternoon when he had done enough work to be deemed 'sufficient', and his expulsion from the company no longer seemed imminent. Tempers only needed time to cool, he knew, and in the end nothing so bad had occured as to require much further action.
Setting away his things and looking about at the now empty - save for himself - office, he took a breath and closed his eyes, taking a moment to himself with only the sound of the wall clock to disturb him.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. His fingers itched to snap, but he did not. It didn't hurt to take the long way home. Besides, it could burn off the additional packet of sugar he'd contributed to his midday caffeine hit.
The path homeward was equally peaceful. It was the sort of day he was thankful for, one that let him sink into thoughts. Only ten minutes from his destination, he stalled in front of a high-rise and contemplated. Before him was a vending machine, a proper one as he'd say. Those in his building only stocked 'healthy' beverages and snacks, so they were with bottled green tea, water, crackers and the like. That before him was brimming with fizzy and sticky abundance galore, and though he knew he oughtn't, surely he could excuse it after such a crap day? Surely being chewed out by his manager entitled him to a sweet treat?
That decided, he leant in, perusing the flavours on display-
Only to let out a very uncharacteristic yelp as something CRASHED into the earth nary a step away from him, bursting into a thousand pieces and scattering halfway across the path.
Immediately he was in fight or flight, experience moving him tight against the wall and haunches raised, fingers primed as he looked about all ways. No one else was present. Even hidden, he would have sensed them, so who...?
Looking more carefully at the projectile, his eyes widened at seeing a poor, decapitated calculator head. Buttons and pieces of internal hardware were any-which-where. He let himself feel a bit of comedic pity for the thing. Then, registering things, he looked up and scowled.
This was an office block. That was a calculator. The windows in this sort of building were the tilt-from-the-top type, he knew, so this had been no accident. Someone had thrown this, and whether it was maliciously intended or not that was horribly dangerous. Abandoning the vending machine, he backed up and made ready to scale the wall to give whoever it was a what-to.
A scream cut off that action. Then a pen, faster than blinking, striking the earth. It burst, the coil ripping through the plastic exterior, but the man was already on the move.
Stepping up onto the wall like it was another piece of flat ground, X snapped his fingers and let the world shift to his bidding.
Directions changed. Gravity ceased. What should be concrete and glass became an indeterminable plane of flashing rainbow skidding beneath his feet as he moved forward. At the end of this glimmering corridor was a young man, younger than he, staring down the edge of a precipice, screaming his lungs out. With a sharp sting of alarm, X saw him raise his foot and then lurch forward.
Permitting gravity to resume its absolute hold, X twisted and landed with a start on the top of the roof where the boy had just stood and threw his hand out, grasping. To his great relief it found purchase, tightly curling around a thin arm.
Momentum made him jerk, but he held firm. In this form, even the weight of an adult male was inconsequential.
"Hey there." He introduced before he could think better of it. "Sorry to interrupt, but I can't let you do that."
Head tilting to see him, the boy stared. First at the building beneath them, still suffering the effects of X's influence, then up to the man himself. Jaw dropping, he mouthed something like What the fuck?
X grimaced, pulling back and insisting that physics cooperate. "Right, get back up here."
When the other - a brunette in baggy clothing - made contact with land and appeared mostly upright, X let go as to not end up dragging him whilst he was still disoriented. This was apparently a bad move, his rescuee staggering before dropping to his knees and heaving out panicked exclamations.
"Are you alright?" X questioned, unsure. What was one meant to say in such a situation. Civilians being rescued from attempts on their own lives by heroes wasn't so uncommon, but it had never been a situation to find its way to him before now. Usually, people wanted to kill him.
The boy was gibbering, breathless, chest heaving, swearing up a storm in response to the top hero's enquiry. After a particularly puzzling exchange, X watched as he flopped onto his back in a position reminiscent of an animal that had been struck by a car, arms askew and head lolling.
Was there a hospital nearby? That was the correct course of action, no?
"Oh dear. You haven't hit your head, have you?" he checked.
"No, I'm good." the younger man covered his face.
Ha! I'm sure you are. Good grief. "Care to explain the situation I found you in, then?"
"No. I just want to take a moment to appreciate the feeling of my brain still being inside my skull. Wow. Always took that for granted."
X considered that, glancing at the time. There was something he ought to attend to, emails he really should answer, a call he should return - but it could wait. Perhaps this man was a stranger and seemingly not all too happy to see him, but it would be detestable to up and leave now, or leave him on the ground. Who was to say he wouldn't try something else the moment X turned his back. That in mind, he readied himself for discomfort and settled down beside the other on the floor. "By all means. I'm in no hurry, recover from the shock."
It was a little funny, the brunette's attempts at warding him off. It was more embarassment than dislike, clearly, which did make X feel less bad for being persistent. Still, funny, the way he would glance over every now and then and make a disgruntled expression when he saw X still had not grown bored enough to run off. If that was his game he'd be sorely mistaken, X could keep this up all night.
There they stayed until afternoon turned to evening turned to the first stages of twilight. X let himself take the time to clear his mind, dedicated to 'zoning out' until the other was prepared to talk, really. It was too terrible to muse the subject at hand. This young man was truly young, visibly so, he had to be in his early twenties. He had seen so much less of life than X, and yet he'd been driven to this rooftop and had gone through with jumping. Life could be truly cruel to so many people.
The only thing that made X jerk from his faux-meditation was the subtle buzz of his watch, the one he had for himself as this identity. It gave him updates on the little things he needed to know and provided a direct line to the few he allowed to work with him to establish business contracts, advertisements and the like. Indeed, glowing from his wrist was an insistent message asking for a call back. Knowing it would do no good to trigger a workplace call in this situation, X swiped it away. There would be time to get back to her, but that time was not now.
"You can take me down... if you want." The brunette breathed. His complexion was awash with guilt.
Hm. "Are you ready to go down?"
Conflict, clear as day. This man showed everything on his face. An honest soul. "Um."
"Really, don't worry. I was just having a post-work walk when I caught sight of you, my evening is clear." X told him, slyly refusing to acknowledge that he really could be up to something right now. This was something. This was more than just something, in fact.
Something strange was how the other looked at him, wide eyes with a slack jaw, made X feel oddly self conscious. Then the man jolted upward, and X fought the urge to jerk back in response. "How did you even see me?"
Watching realization turn to humiliation as he explained the circumstances that had alerted him to the other's plight, X quickly redirected back to the topic that mattered most. It was interesting, truly, to hear of his troubles. The younger man might not know it, but all that he said was acutely relatable to X. As █████ he had experienced his fair share of workplace grievances, today not even among the worst of all situations he had been subjected to. Nor had today been the first time his job had been threatened over an honest mistake. The corporate world was cut-throat, and it burned to know it broke some at such an age.
If he himself were in a more unstable position, could his manager's speech today have rocked him as badly as this? X struggled to imagine that alternate world, yet he knew it was possible. Another version of him, or perhaps another person... had they been put in the immensly stressful scenario he had earlier today, it could have so easily triggered dark thoughts.
There had to be something he could do, short of throwing this bright young man into a ward where he would doubtlessly be mistreated and maligned, kept while his lease ran out and his prospects deteriorated.
"What... what work did you do? What was your role in the company?" X checked.
"Uh. Social Media Manager and Creative Director. TV show ads for heroes on contract, stuff like that."
X glanced at the blimp passing by them, fitted with a ludicrously oversized television blaring out one such advertisement. "Adverts. Things like that?" he asked.
And this- this boy, this man. X was genuinely impressed to learn he had made that precise ad, not only that, but most of Nice's run. X had not encountered that hero himself, but he knew of and had seen of him, and a great contributer to that was the up and coming hero's great brand management. It was perfection, just as he claimed to be, and this boy had contributed a fair bit to that public perception with his work.
It hurt especially then, to hear him openly deride himself. To call himself a wageslave with no prospects, mediocre when he was anything but.
X looked at him, pondered what he was about to do, and then went through with it anyway. His best kept secret was gone with a flick of his hand, gone in the need to see that awful expression of self-hatred gone from the other man's face. It almost felt like stripping naked, a sense of vulnerability creeping over him though he of course kept the same abilities in this form as ever.
"So, how do I look to you?" he said, hoping to convey his point.
"So good."
...?
Realizing what he'd said, the younger man came to life in his horror and fell over his words trying to excuse himself, clearly mortified at the faux pas. Shock passed, a warm feeling instead taking its place. What a strange, endearing guy! X couldn't help but laugh. Look down. Laugh some more.
"Hey!"
"Sorry!" X snorted, shaking his head. This really was so strange! The compliment aside, to be seen that way in this form? Wasn't it his supercharged self that ordinarily prompted awe? "That's my fault entirely, the fault is in my wording. I do appreciate that, though!"
"Stop."
Words came easier after that. Perhaps it was that exchange which had broken the remaining tension, or just some subconscious relaxing of guard that came with showing himself as he truly was. X felt a thrill of happiness when he offered the young man a job and saw him light up.
His day had been so close to over, and on a high note!
Then, then...
Holding the 15th rank hero under one arm, X collected the brunette to his side - 'Lin Ling,' apparently. It was a little cute, the way Lin Ling huddled against his side with wide eyes.
It was less cute that he had had to stop two people from jumping off the same roof in the same afternoon.
"Let's get down from here." he sighed, and swore to bulldoze his entire XFC empire and redirect his efforts to some sort of mental help institution for disillusioned young people.
Snap.