A/N: Hey everybody, it's me, future author (from a couple episodes in the future at least). I've been researching and reading a lot about Marvel to do this novel, as Marvel is a dauntingly dense universe. And I've learned about the new sliding timescale timeline of the 2020's (Which kinda blows in my opinion, and is confusing in some instances, but I digress) and I decided to reference it as it's the most modern adaptation, which I thought might make my research easier. But oh boy wasn't I damn wrong. It is kinda confusing how the cast of Spider-man has been retconned to be really different from what I remember them to be like, so it has slowed down my writing by a lot as my OC will have a lot of story with the whole Spider-man cast from the start (and soon after with other groups). And since I'm about 50k words in, I'm too lazy to change my starting point, so I've decided to take ""creative liberties"" with the story telling. So take this story as an AU of marvel comics' current timeline (with a 80% similarity to the original 2020's version, at least at the start *shrugs shamelessly*). Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go back to slaving away for your (and my own) enjoyment. So enjoy!
After a good ol' bath, not before inspecting his dear aunt hadn't put any cameras in there or around the house–Of which she surprisingly hasn't done outside of one in the living room, the hallway and a couple outside the house–Damian was able to relax and wash the fatigue away from his body and while doing so, he took a peek at his newest acquisition. After inspecting, poking and prodding the thing with his mind, Damian discovered a few interesting things about the blob as well as grafted some preliminary routes to take for this assimilation thingy.
He did this while remembering to tease his partner in crime after seeing her fall silent once he got naked. "So, pretty good eh? I'm not one for unfounded arrogance, but thankfully my new body retains the same qualities for the most part, if only a bit altered."
[Kill yourself, pervert.] Filling her face heat up in shame, she answered to his taunts in a curt manner.
"Pfft-hahahaha… Now that's a reaction. If it makes you feel better though, you're not the only one that got silenced by the might of my little brother, nor will you be the last". Said Damian while striking a heroic pose with nothing but a towel on.
Trying to deviate the topic from her shame, she threw a jab at him. [How romantic of you, talking about your future hoes to your literal soulmate.]
"Hey, language young lady. This man of yours won't be taking any random hoe to his bed. In a world with superheroines prettier than models, I'm planning to surround myself with women worth marrying only. Also, I am able to share this sentiment with you since you are my soulmate, only you understand me best."
[So superhoes then, tsk.]
"..."
Before Damian could follow up on his banter or switch up the topic, the front door of his house opened as the super soldier spy of S.H.I.E.L.D made her entrance through the garage door next to the front one.
Leaning against the doorframe, keys dangling on one of her fingers as her eyes briefly scanned him from head to toe "Long day?"
Without missing a beat, Damian crosses his arms and says "Could've been longer if I knew I had an audience".
She smirks, kicking the door shut behind her. She's in her "Stark Industries uniform". Black blazer and white blouse, dark jeans, hair slightly weary but still impeccable for normal human standards. Yet the sharpness in her gaze was 100% real Widow's. Dropping her bag by the console table, she looks at him, deliberately slow. "Hungry? I'll be cooking tonight".
Arching a brow, Damian looks at her dead in the eye before saying "Hm, let me guess. We're having eggs and steak with a protein shake at the side?
Snorting in response, Widow starts to walk towards Damian's right, in direction to the kitchen, with intentional slow steps "Lasagna. Your favorite. Unless you've suddenly developed a preference?"
Leaning against the wall while still facing the kitchen, Damian decides to engage in the little game of Natasha "Extra cheese, no mushrooms. Extra onion on the sauce-As Damian specified how he liked his lasagna, he maintained his arms crossed in front of his chest, forgetting the little detail that while striking his hero pose earlier, the knot on his towel had loosened–to make matters worse, his mind was too tired to notice the feeling of the towel coming undone–resulting in Natasha having quite the sight in front of her.
With a low tone, Damian heard Natasha interrupt him with quite the predatory gaze in her eyes "...Hoo~"
Following her eyes, Damian looked down to realize to his own exasperation that the towel had come undone while he was distracted talking
'For fucks sake-not this shit again!'
Massaging his brow with one hand for a second, Damian rapidly went back to his deadpan face, refusing to lose any more dignity. He refuses to move, blink or even acknowledge what just happened. "Is there an issue?" He says shamelessly.
Leaning back against the counter, she crosses her arms "Just admiring the confidence. Takes quite the pair to get naked in front of me" 'and live to tell the tail' are the words left unspoken.
Feigning complete normalcy, Damian pushed back "Don't know what you're talking about, I'm just a poor minor being harassed by an older woman. I'm the victim here".
Only smirking at his twist of the facts, she turned around and said "Ha, cheese lasagna it is. Try to be dressed by then".
Taking up the towel himself, Damian merely answered with a "Got it" before turning around and as he took his first step he heard "Should I put another plate for your little-well, not so little friend?"
Losing his step, he tumbled on the steps and tried to ignore her comment. Yet he still heard a little laugh coming from the kitchen, it seemed this round went to Widow at the end.
'Damn, woman. Haa… I'm more tired than I thought, I was careless. Eva, please give me a heads up in the future if you notice me ever becoming this tired without realizing, this carelessness could get us killed in the future if not properly adressed'.
[Really, that's the thing you're worrying over right now? If I couldn't literally feel your emotions I'd say your trying to fuck your aunt. *sigh*]
'First of all, she's not my real aunt. At most I've seen her a couple times in my birthday parties growing up. Second, I would never use such childish tricks, what do you take me for, a child? Or even worse, an isekai protagonist?'
She murmured [If the shoe fits…]
'Hey, I'm not fucking dumb nor dense like that' Damian vehemently tried to deny the accusations, yet the bulge in his towel begged to differ with him, something that both him and Eva noticed.
Arching her nonexistent brow she went [You sure about not wanting to fuck her?]
Smirking at the comment, he raises his hand while saying 'I said I didn't do this on purpose, never said anything about that'.
[And you're gonna tell me tomorrow that right now it's the teenager hormones speaking?]
"Ya got me".
…
Now fully clothed in his bed, as he awaited for the food to be ready, Damian returned to his inner consciousness with the help of Eva's vision and made his way towards the blob resting in a corner of his spiritual garden.
"How incredible, to think this is literally a copy of a being's whole existence".
[Technically not a complete copy, but yeah.]
"Hm? What do you mean by that?"
[I am not 100% sure about this, but you know how the characters you once considered fictional have all probably become real, right?]
"Yes".
[Following that logic, there shouldn't be a "complete" copy of them unless you know.]
"Unless they've died. I think I get what you're saying, this copy of Nightwing is one of the specific Nightwing I remember, not the current one nor his final version".
[Exactly, but that's good. This means that-]
"We can choose which version to absorb of said character, so even if I can't absorb the current version of say, Goku, I could theoretically choose his baby version and absorb his saiyan anatomy… Damn, either the omega level is stupid strong or we are a really special case.
[Maybe both, whichever way this is good news for us. However, we'll probably face different limitations in the future that we haven't even considered yet.]
"One step at a time, dear. For now, let's decide how to assimilate this copy of Bat's favorite child".
While prodding at this energy previously, Damian found out that he could put his hands into the ball of energy as if it was one of those MSG (Microgravity Science Glovebox) chambers and separate the energy ball in sections that corresponded to different parts of Nightwings persona. With some work, he managed to divide the ball in delimited sectors containing his personality, memories, physique, talents and lastly his intelligence and thought predisposition.
"Mm… This is quite a lot, even if I were to throw away what's not necessary the assimilation won't be fast. Could take anywhere from days to weeks or even longer. We will have to adjust our time frame accordingly, Eva".
[Understood. However, I don't think this will take as long as you expect, as you absorb parts of his existence the process should only get faster by inertia since he is still a human without powers–one pretty similar to you to boot–the hardest part should be to start the process.]
"I see… Still, we can optimize it by throwing away what we do not want to have, although that may require work in itself".
[What do you wish to throw away then?]
"For starters, let's get rid of his personality, partially at least. I was ready to have to absorb everything and have to deal with becoming part Nightwing myself but since we can separate it all, I won't be needing to deal with that".
[How curious, you almost sound sad about doing so∼]
"Well, I'd be lying if I said no part of me isn't tempted to become a better human, as that's what I assume would happen if I were to absorb his personality completely. Still, I'd rather remain myself if I can help it".
[You know, you don't give enough credit to yourself. I've seen your memories, Damian. You are much better than what most people would care to be, have more faith in yourself, dummy.]
"Haha, thank you, Eva. Knowing you mean what you say does make me feel better. Anyways, after his personality we should discard the useless traits like his acrophobia, his martyr complex or his borderline naive way of trusting others. As much as I love Grayson, I can't be the idealistic hero he is, but at least I swear to try and do what's right with the abilities I'm stealing from him".
Doing as he said, Damian brought another similar ball with Nightwings energy signature where he transplanted the things he will throw away later. After taking away Dick's bad traits, Damian focused on separating his habit's to keep only the useful ones, as he wasn't a lover of flashy backflips like Grayson was. Then, he separated most of Nightwings memories and kept only core ones that could prove useful should he visit the DC universe at some point (Spoiler alert: He will). After that, all was ready to go since, strictly speaking, Dick Grayson had a minimum amount of "flaws", some which weren't even that bad from Damian's perspective, the only reason he chose to throw those away too is because unlike The Boy Wonder, Damian would not come back from the dead in the next issue like Grayson could, at least the one from the comics (Not that he was killed since every attempt at doing so was thwarted by the fans hehe). So he couldn't afford to inherit the "bad" traits that made Dick more human and less perfect hero from a comic.
"Well, now all that's left is to figure out how to actually absorb this primed essence of the Flying Grayson. Is what I'm thinking of viable, Eva?"
[If you're referring to the idea of mimicking his energy with the projection you use inside your inner world to assimilate the bundle as though making it believe it's going back to where it belongs, that could work yeah.]
"Perfect, now how about we start with-"
*Knock* *Knock* *Knock*
"Dame, food's ready".
"Okay, I'll be there in a second".
'I guess the absorption can wait till we hit the sack'.
[Better to do so without interruptions, yes.]
…
With a wafting smell of garlic, melted cheese, and the faintest hint of red wine invading his senses, Damian could tell Natasha did her best, even if she didn't like to show it up front, she cared. Damian sits across from her at the small table, now dressed in sweatpants and a loose tee, hair still slightly damp from the shower. The steam from their plates rises between them as Natasha watches him with that unreadable half-smile. The silence stretches—comfortable, but loaded. Then, she breaks it.
Damian inhales in the aromas and takes a first bite "You didn't skimp on the ricotta. Better than I thought".
She leans back while looking at him, the wine glass swirling in her hand "Wouldn't dream of it. Though I did cheat a bit with the store bought noodles".
Taking another bite, he nods along with a small smile "Still better than the protein sludge you usually call 'food' ".
To which he earns a kick under the table from Natasha, however he can see the smirk on her face. Then they settle in a comfortable silence, simply eating in each other's company, but then Widow starts "What are your plans for the future? I'll stay here and pay for the funeral expenses, but after that what do you plan to do?"
Breaking into a thoughtful expression himself, Damian chews on her words this time for a bit before responding "To be honest, I'm not sure… Mom loved her homeland, that's why we would go every holiday there each time we could and Dad never showed a special preference for where he stayed at… so maybe it would be best to bury them both near our summer house at the south of Patagonia".
Letting his words marinate, Widow purposefully stays silent for a moment before resuming "Although it is not my place to boot in, your father did like living here. He just held both you and your mother above his own attachments to this place in his heart. So burying them both where you and your mother would be happiest with would be for the best".
While his hands went through his hair, Damian lamented the death of the parents he couldn't even enjoy properly yet again.
Letting the cracks on his strong front show, without Damian really noticing it, he continued "Haa… This shit sucks. Why do I have to pick where to bury my parents" '...Again'.
Putting a hand on his shoulder, Widow looked in Damian's eyes and offered her own wisdom on the topic "I know it's hard to bury a family member. It stings… and the pain probably will never fade entirely. Yet, we must move on, that's what your father would want".
Really making an effort to take her words in, as Damian already kind of agreed with her assessment, one that had much more weight due to the longevity of Romanoff, he composed himself again "Thank you, Aunt Nat. For everything, your presence is already helpful enough to keep my head from going to dark places".
Taking the opportunity, after leading the conversation to where she wanted. Widow added "Now that you mention my presence, there was something I wanted to talk about. I can file for temporary guardianship. Just until you graduate. No system, no strangers poking around…" Taking a moment to continue, she pressed "...If you want".
Damian doesn't answer immediately, not out of doubt. But out of calculation, for one he really doesn't want to deal with social services nor does he know how it works in the Marvel universe. However, having her around all the time would complicate his experimentation and future training. Pulling one over random civilians would prove to be much easier than keeping secrets away from a S.H.I.E.L.D super spy.
So for now. He decided to give a sensible, measured response "Let me think about it".
Natasha nods, as if already expecting it. She stands, taking her plate to the sink yet she doesn't even give a look at the sink while doing so. She just leaves it there, making Damian's eyebrow twitch. She catches the look and smirks.
She stretches in a purposeful and slightly exaggerated manner, her blouse seemingly about to pop at the chest area, before she stops just in time and starts to walk away with deliberate steps. "Long day. I'm turning in". She says, pausing at the hallway and glancing back. "Don't stay up too late, Malysh".
Damian watches her retreating back as the echo of her words linger in the room. Then he turns at the dirty plate in the sink and snorts. Muttering as he grabs the dish soap and sponge "Real subtle, Natasha".
…
Now in the comfort of his room, Damian sat on his bed while taking deep breaths to calm himself as he got ready to begin the assimilation process.
"So it is time".
[You sure you want to stick with that order?]
"Yeah, I've given it some thought and if things work as you've theorized, the first part of the process should be the slowest one. Having that information, I think it'd be best to start by absorbing Nightwings physique. Not only is the most pressing matter to augment the size of my vessel and the base to absorb even more powerful physiques in the future, but it is also the choice that would increase my chances of surviving any mishaps that the universe might throw my way. That aside, it is also better for synergy, once I have the body my mind can later absorb and adapt the habits and combat knowledge as well as muscle memory properly".
Having gone over his reasoning a final time, Damian concentrated in his inner world. Using this astral-like projection of himself in his inner world, he changed the signature he was giving for the one that was presumably Nightwing's, slowly but surely becoming more familiar with the process and less reliant on Eva doing it all herself.
Then he poked a small hole in the cage ball containing the precious goods he caught from the seeming void itself and introduced his hand, beckoning with his intent for the energy to "return home", and as this energy blob did not have any type of sentience, merely a vague version of instincts, it did not hesitate to go back to the body sharing the oh so familiar signature. Yet, Damian only accepted the sectioned part belonging to the copy of Grayson's physique.
What happened next could only be described as a one of a kind feeling, Damian felt as if his spirit and body had come alive on its own, like the cells in his body were overcharged by energy and where multiplying in a specific pattern, as that was probably what was going on, or so he thought.
While his spirit felt in a sort of ecstasy, expanding itself to fit its new shape better, the body of Damian was lit ablaze. From a comfortable warmth at the start, it rapidly transformed to an uncomfortable amount of heat and it only got worse as the heat of a summer haze became scorching lava flowing through his whole body.
"FUCK! EVA, CREATE A SOUND BARRIER. NOW!"
[Y-Yes, I'm already on it!]
*AGH* 'GOD FUCKING DAMN. OF COURSE SHIT CAN'T BE SWEET EVEN FOR A DAMN MINUTE! AND THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE THE EASIEST ONE'.
With no time nor mind for considerations, Damian barked the necessary orders for impeding Natasha hearing what he felt was to come. And came it did. For dozens of minutes that felt like dozens of hours to Damian, he suffered the transformation of his body, as it was reshaping itself in order to accommodate the muscle mass of an adult Nightwing as well as his flexible joints and bone structure.
Thankfully, the process wasn't as lengthy as it could be, and after about 20-30 or so minutes, the heat died down. Leaving a sweating mess of a person as the only proof it ever was there in the first place.
*Gasp* *Gasp*
"That was-huff-fucking awfull-huff".
[Are you okay, Damian?]
"Yes… more than okay, actually. Soreness aside, I feel much better already. Much closer to my previous body at least".
[That's a good sign, hopefully the painful part is already over. You should see a gradual increment of body mass over the coming days, this time without any pain, hopefully.]
"I'll just have to find a way to hide the sudden change of body to Natasha, but that's a problem for tomorrow's Damian… I don't have energy for shit anymore… good night, Eva…"
[Sweet dreams, Damian. Don't worry, since I don't need to sleep like humans do, I'll be monitoring your body during the night in case anything unexpected happens.]
Hearing only half of what Eva said, Damian was knocked out by exhaustion, marking for quite an equal parts eventful and productive first day in his new life.
…
Next day, past midday.
"Ugh, who turned the damn lights on? Can't a man get some sleep?" Using the sheets to cover his head, a groggy and half asleep Damian asked nobody in particular.
[Good morning to you too, Damian. And nobody did, we are not at the point of lighting and shutting down stars, yet.]
As he cleared his eyes, Damian noticed that it was daylight coming from the window what had interrupted his sleep.
"Hm, natural sunlight? How long was I asleep for, Eva?"
[If the alarm clock on your nightstand is not wrong, you slept for more than 15 hours, it's 12:46 p.m. already.]
"Damn, I really pushed myself yesterday".
[And something tells me this won't be the last time you do so.] Without any mirth in her tone and as someone privy to all his memories, Eva hit the nail in the head.
"Well, can't have progress without sacrifice, dear. However, it is all so there's a future where we can laze around after reaching our peak goals".
[Haa-I just hope that day is not too far away.]
"We'll know that when we get clairvoyance as a power".
[You always have to have the last word, don't you?]
"Ha, you of all people should know the answer to that question already".
Getting out of his foul smelling bed due to all the sweating he went through yesterday, Damian made a mental note to clean his sheets before he took his shirt off and stood in front of the mirror to see the changes his body experienced the night prior.
"Hoo, not quite how I looked at my peak, but this is much better than yesterday already".
[Who would've known that absorbing the body of a peak human would do that to you?] Said Eva with mock surprise in her voice.
Although the change wasn't inexplicably abrupt like that of Peter or Cap's physique, the man standing in front of the mirror posed a striking difference to the one of the previous day. Not packed with muscle, but had the underlying athleticism of someone who had a background of playing a sport since little, the flabbines was replaced by firm outlines, the last bits of lingering baby fat were gone from both his body and face. All the scarce signs of acne in his face were also gone and his skin had a healthier tone to it, signs of somebody that had plenty of sunlight during the day with a balanced diet to boot. Overall, he looked much healthier and even a bit taller, having probably grown an inch to match Nightwings 1.80 cm (5 '11) frame.
"Mm, now this is more like it, nothing like a healthier body to start the day".
[Talking about starting the day, what are the plans for the day?]
"First off I'm putting these sheets in the washing machine, then the usual routine for the mornings, even if it's almost 1 o'clock already. Then we try to figure out what type of timeline we are in, the mere fact that my aunt is Natasha Romanoff tells me this timeline it's not a "normal" one. After all that's done, we can have some fun. I'll wait till we assimilate more of Gtayson before trying out our more energy demanding experiments as we need a bigger vessel for those.
After quickly deciding the overall course to follow, Damian got to it immediately, making himself something to eat before brushing his teeth, as he never understood people who do it the other way around, and in the process he found a sticky note from his aunt thanking him for cleaning the dishes yesterday and telling him that something important came up so she wouldn't come back until late at night.
Once he was done with his routine, Damian did the logical next step and went to a cybercafe since there's no way he would search for any sensitive topics while living under the same roof as a damn S.H.I.E.L.D operative. Although he wouldn't be able to find out information beyond surface level news, he could still gauge the general flow of things. As expected, some things were more in line with what he knew while others changed. For example, J. Jonah Jameson still hates Peter's guts, Hulk was currently roaming around somewhere, the Avengers aren't officially a thing since Loki hasn't invaded yet. The Fantastic Four (Ba-ba-ballin' Ba-ba-ballin'️) were already a thing, which was fantastic. (I'm sorry but I had to do it)
And more importantly, the existence of mutants. On the public record, the phenomenon of mutants was starting to become known and more relevant after some incidents involving rogue mutants that made national news on late 2010. Then a part of the public started to truly fear our capabilities after Magneto attacked a nuclear facility more than a year ago. Strangely, this demonstration of might resulted in a rise of sightings, and consequently, hate crimes against mutantkind instead of working as a deterrent.
Although bigotry was intrinsically irrational, the amount of hate for mutants as a whole he could see on all forums and news outlets was overwhelming in contrast to the voices advocating for mutant rights. 'This reeks of that fucking germ. Wait till I catch you Sublime, you bitch.' Were his thoughts about after analyzing the relatively scarce information.
Also, much to his befuddlement, the fucking address of the X-Mansion was public fucking domain. 'I know you are trying to look all the part of a real school, Xavier. But this is so risky damn,' he said while massaging his brows. 'I'll bet a kidney SHIELD has cameras set up around the whole school already… at least I know where to find them in the future.' He sighed to himself.
'That reminds me that I have to pay them a visit once I get stronger, I'm not having a damn Dark Phoenix saga on my timeline…' Clearing his throat, he reasoned. 'And I guess getting to meet Magik, Rogue and the rest of the crew is an inevitable bonus.'
[Is that what you tell yourself to be able to sleep soundly at night, buddy?] Eva chimed in, laughing at him.
'Oh shut up, even leaving anything else aside, Illyana will become the goddamn sorceress supreme of the limbo dimension, somewhat soon at that. So it's best if we can leave a good impression on her and the rest after visiting. Or better yet, rescue her if we can become strong enough to kill Belasco and have her become one of my people. Her talents are wasted working for Xavier's unrealistic methods and expectations.'
Even as she found herself unable to refute the sound logic, she knew damn well that his reasoning were just flowery words to hide his desire to meet and befriend the admittedly really cool mutant, so Eva could only roll her metaphysical eyes at Damian's shamelessness.
[How convenient, ain't it.]
Ignoring her dripping sarcasm, he continued. 'Now that we've more or less figured out we are in what seems to be a weird mash-up of the MCU and the comics' latest timeline, from the time I died, let's do one last test before we can consider going to that place, shall we?'
[Are you sure that is a good idea? We've seen that this timeline is not one where you can assure anything, what if he is not the mystical patient teacher he is supposed to be?]
'If I'm being honest, you're right in that we can't guarantee anything, and this might just be my childish dream speaking, really. However, I promise I won't put us in a risky situation without any failsafes. That's why we will test how far we can teleport. If the results are not satisfactory enough, we'll postpone it until I can teleport from one side of New York to the other, at the very least. We still have some weeks before school starts anyways.' Damian explained his reasoning to her.
With a curious tone, she asked. [Why until school starts specifically?]
'If my memory serves my right, I remember seeing somewhere that Spiderman was said to be at school when the invasion of earth happened, although a Spiderman that hadn't been beaten yet. So, since I have no other frame of reference I'll use the start of school as the starting line countdown for the invasion.'
As Damian discussed his plans with Eva, he tried to make the best of his time by running to a deserted part on the other side of town to both get a benchmark for his stamina and find a deserted place to test his teleportation capabilities.
After an hour of running without getting tired, Damian had to admit he was thoroughly impressed by Nightwing's muscle memory, even with a body that was nowhere near at its peak, the way his body regulated itself permitted him to run in optimal conditions for extended periods of time, from his breathing to his running technique, everything was optimized.
Then, after another half an hour of running and starting to sweat, he decided to cut his stamina test short as he felt he was already a good enough distance from his home. Having taken a cab to a distant cybercafe on purpose, plus an hour and a half of running opposite to his house, he was currently around 20 km away from his house at a deserted parking lot, give or take.
Doing a quick double check on their vicinity and finding nothing that could leave footage of his actions, Damian got ready to try the best failsafe he could currently think of.
"This should be good enough, no cameras, no people, no obstacles. Now, all we have to do is try it".
[In what order do you want to proceed then?]
"Trying for the house outright might be too much, so let's start by jumping to the mark 5 blocks from here for starters".
Taking inspiration from a certain ninja with a horrible naming sense, Damian decided to leave markings throughout his run and around the vicinity of his house. Sadly, he didn't really know how to make a space-time fuinjutsu mark, so his marks currently were temporary, unlike Minato's, he also couldn't feel them from too far away.
Hell, he couldn't even tell them apart past a certain distance, though he had a vague feeling of the direction and distance of them. Akin to how a dog could track a scent towards a certain direction but couldn't calculate how far it was. This was another reminder that imagination could only take you so far without any real frame of reference on how things worked.
'Haa… No backing out now, just do it pussy.' He said to give himself courage.
While fusing with Eva to enhance his senses, he focused first on his own existence and place in space in relation to his surroundings. Then, he tried to get a feel for the closest mark he had placed and once he could successfully point it out in his mind, Damian covered himself in a rough membrane of energy and willed for himself to 'appear' next to the mark.
Maybe it was because of the technique he drew inspiration from or maybe it was merely a coincidence, but the next second he could vividly feel himself standing in the parking lot for one moment and the next be at a different place altogether. He could only describe this place as a different dimension, a dark void where he could feel space itself trying to squeeze him out of its domain.
Thankfully, he remembered to cover himself in pure energy, the closest thing he could use as a replacement for chakra, as while doing so made the void absorb the energy at an accelerated pace, the energy itself functioned as a barrier between this rejection and him and taking into account how fast the teleportation should be this way, he could afford this expense.
Leaving all observations for later, Damian concentrated on the feeling of the mark that was still fresh in his mind and tried to find its correlative position in this void, which surprisingly was close, incredibly so. In this void, he could feel all the marks he had left throughout the city, including those that were kilometers away as if they were merely a couple steps from him. Still, he decided to play it safe and took a single step towards the closest mark and "pushed" himself through that mark towards his own dimension.
An instant later, he reappeared next to the mark he had placed 400 metres away (400 mt = 5 blocks) from the parking lot, but before he could celebrate the success of recreating a mythical technique, he suddenly felt the urge of puking his guts out and that he did for the next 60 seconds.
*BLEGH*
"Jesus Christ… I need a fucking mint-*blargh*" Was all he managed to say, before emptying the contents of his stomach on a nearby trashchan.
[Or brushing your teeth.] Eva said with mild disgust in her tone.
"That-That too… fucking Minato and his humbleness, he downplayed the shit out of the spatial awareness and motion sickness tolerance you need to have for this shit".
[If I recall correctly, didn't he directly have no feelings of motion sickness at all?] She said, amused at his current state.
"Double fuck him then." After cleaning his mouth with the little water bottle Damian had in his hand to test if he could take things with him through his teleportation, he took a minute to calm down as the world was quite literally spinning around in his eyes.
[Still, it's for the best that you tried this before going to that place, being incapacitated even if briefly while trying to escape from his sight would be a death sentence.]
Sarcastically, he commented. "Yeah, not like he could probably track us through any distance as long as we remain on this planet."
[You got a point, but better to have as many contingency plans as possible, just for peace of mind at least.] She said, faking a deep voice to emphasize her words.
Chuckling at her words, he said. "Sure thing, Batsman."
Still, he took a moment to admire the still barely comprehensible technique he just used. "Jokes aside though, this method is incredible. Tobirama was one dedicated racist fuck to create space-time travel just to pull one over the Uchihas. Even when the other dimension eats through my energy membrane barrier, the actual displacement is so quick that it feels almost negligible, yet taking a single step in that dimension consumes more energy than what anything else does. I see why this is such an energy demanding jutsu, the further you are from the mark, the more steps you take, the more steps you take, the more energy/chakra you need. And that doesn't even account for pulling sizable objects and covering them in energy for transport too. Eva, how much energy do you estimate we lost there?"
Taking a second to feel his energy reserves, Eva said. [I'd say about 25-30%, give or take. However, as your overall reserves are 'small' to begin with, you regenerated half of that in the five minute break you took to adjust for the motion sickness, so as long as we don't need to use it too extensively, with our current capabilities, it should be fine for traveling to places we've already marked around the city.]
Taking a sip of water, he muttered. "Yeah, I thought so too. Sadly, we can only go to places that are marked. It would be ideal to copy other types of space travel techniques once we have the means for a more unrestricted space displacement".
[One step at a time, Damian.] She answered.
"I know, I know… 'kay, enough stalling. I'm ready to resume, let's aim for not emptying my stomach after reaching the other side of the teleport as the goal for the day."
…
In what can only be described as a masochistic training style, Damian spent the next half of his day space jumping between alleys, deserted parking lots and just about any space that had no one around it and, to make matters worse, he had to take the ski mask he bought the previous day on and off partially to empty his stomach until nothing but bile came out of his mouth. Hopefully though, this brute force training combined with a body that was trained to withstand all types of sudden movements and his own high adaptability due to the nature of his powers, by the 5th hour he could already teleport a kilometer away while only feeling a mild discomfort, after 5 km the gag reflex would still kick in but he could withstand it nonetheless and pass 10 km, he would inevitably retch even if nothing would come out anymore.
Deciding this was enough torture, or progress as he would like to term it, he covered one last trek to a spot a couple blocks away from his house and from there he prudently decided to take the ski mask of and walk towards his home, where he had a shower and brushed his teeth twice, first when he arrived and after filling his empty stomach with some food.
While at it, he remembered to make food for his aunt too as a gesture of gratitude for her help since life as a lonely man from his early days taught him to be both a grateful man and a virtuous home cook.
[You're leaving a note on top of the covered plates? How romantic.]
"I'd like to say grateful instead. Mama taught me to always be thankful to those who extend a helping hand, especially when they've got no need to do so in the first place".
[Did she also teach you to show them your dick as a sign of thanks too?]
"Ha-ha, very funny."
*Click* *Slide*
While performing their now usual back and forth, Damian heard the front door opening almost as if on cue, and after hearing a couple steps he could see the face of annoyance Natasha had before it changed to one of surprise at seeing the table full of dishes and smelling the scent of cooked meat mixed with vegetables.
"Hi there aunt Nat. How was work today?" He said, subtly emphasising the 'work' part.
"Boring, as usual, meetings, spreadsheets, Stark mean mugging everybody because his new espresso machine caught on fire. Didn't know you could cook".
Damian leaned against the counter with a playful smile.
"What can I say, I'm a man of many talents. Tried making your favorite but I didn't have the exact ingredients so do forgive me if it isn't quite authentic. At least it's not microwaved."
Natasha smirked as she closed in on him. Her scent a mix of gunpowder hidden behind perfume and sweat as she spoke close to his ear.
"Mm aren't you full of surprises, Malysh? I almost want to kiss you for being so considerate."
"I accept tips of any kind, dear customer. Debit, credit, lips". Not being one to lose in shamelessness and knowing she didn't mean anything with her words, Damian kept up with her games.
To his surprise, Natasha's lips brushed his cheek, so smoothly that he didn't know if it was on purpose or not. "Consider that my downpayment. How did you know I like Borscht?"
"Dad mentioned it in passing the last time you visited, my 15th birthday. Said you almost teared up when the one they ordered tested just right."
Raising one of her eyebrows, Widow said. "Your father really loved to ramble, and you remembered that? You either have a really good memory or you have a crush on your dear aunt."
While keeping up the teasing, she took the first sip of the soup. "Not bad, for an amateur."
As he couldn't say he had recently gotten a feature length rerun of his life, he just put on his signature shameless smile and spoke. "Why not both?"
After taking the first bite of her food, Widow couldn't help but be surprised again by the taste of the dish.
"Cheeky brat, you're lucky your cooking is passable".
"Good to hear, because I plan to be the one cooking from now on." He added in a matter of fact tone.
"Mm? Did you not like my cooking? Ah! You break your aunt's heart, Malysh!" Said Widow while fake weeping with one hand while she kept stuffing herself with the other. It seemed Damian's Broscht was more than "passable."
As they bantered back and forth, Damian and Natasha settled in a cozy ambience that felt the slightest bit more familiar than yesterday. Enjoying the company of the other as they dined. To this Damian felt grateful, thinking that even if his parents were gone again, he wasn't alone this time around.