Thankfully, Markus found his way to the Agency of Superbeings Reimbursement in a short time with the help of some friendly locals.
He felt weird asking strangers for directions, but after telling his story, they didn't seem to have any further questions.
The building of the agency didn't match the grand metropolis it resided in. The sign for one was missing a few letters, and the originally white building had become a dark grey over the years. When Markus entered, the door was so squeaky it practically shrieked as he pushed it.
Cigarette smoke filled the reception area, and Markus coughed as he approached the desk. A blue-eyed blonde receptionist who couldn't be any older than 23 was smoking as she played solitaire on the vintage monitor they had assigned her.
"Ahem"
The young woman glanced over with her tired eyes at the young man. "Sorry, didn't hear you come in." She reached out a hand, and in a second, all the smoke in the room seemed to rush into the palm of her hand and vanished. "What can I help you with today, sir?"
She was completely uninterested, yet she put out her cigarette and opened a new form with great efficiency. "I just woke up from a vat of some sort, and now I found out I've been missing for about five years."
"You don't look like you just got out of a vat."
"Someone helped me out of it and gave me a change of clothes."
She typed a few words and carried on, either accepting his story or not caring enough to prod further, "Ok, name and address."
"Markus Mance, 1474 Infantino Street, Central City."
After a brief pause, "Yup, looks like you were reported missing 5 years ago, and you were put onto the missing report. We have some paperwork for you to sign. Any friends or family you can contact?"
"Sadly, no."
"Way to be a downer, here sign these and explain in detail all you remember, and we will set you up in a temporary location."
...
The receptionist, whose name tag read 'Chloe', slid a stack of papers across the desk. They were dense with legalese and forms detailing lost time, assumed liabilities, and the rather underwhelming compensation offered for five years of absence. He signed where indicated, his signature shaky, a testament to his disoriented state and the lingering phantom ache of whatever vat he'd inhabited. Chloe then produced a small, worn key and a piece of paper with an address. "Apartment 3B, 412 Elm Street. Basic provisions are stocked, and your first month's rent is covered. Anything else, you'll need to sort out yourself. We've done our bit." The scent of stale cigarette smoke clung to the air as he pocketed the key, feeling the weight of the new reality settle in his gut.
...
Elm Street was a far cry from the gleaming towers of the city center. The apartment building was a mirror of the agency's reception area – faded, a little tired, but functional. Apartment 3B was small, clean, and sparsely furnished, a stark contrast to the luxurious comfort he vaguely remembered, or perhaps imagined. A single bed, a small kitchenette, and a worn armchair comprised the furnishings. He surveyed the meager contents, a sense of profound isolation washing over him. As Markus turned to close the door, a flicker of movement caught his eye. A figure was leaning against the opposite wall, a woman with a shock of vibrant, electric blue hair, her expression unreadable as she watched me.
She pushed off the wall, her movements fluid and almost too quick to track. "Lost?" she asked, her voice a low hum that seemed to vibrate with an unseen energy. The blue of her hair seemed to intensify as she approached. "Didn't think anyone new was moving into this charming establishment." She stopped a few feet away, her eyes, sharp and intelligent, scanned me from head to toe. Markus could feel a strange pull, an almost static charge in the air between them. "You've got that 'just woke up from a long nap' look about you," she added, a hint of amusement playing on her lips, a subtle challenge in her gaze.
New Companion Potential: Leslie Willis (Live Wire)
Age: 28
Sexuality: Straight
Compatibility: High
"Sorry, I didn't realize anyone else would be living in this building considering the state, my names Markus." he reached out his hand.
"Don't get your panties in a twist, a few people live in this building including myself. The names Leslie by the way." She shook his hand, then a sudden shock.
"Ow!" Markus pulled back his hand, taking a step far back from Leslie.
"Sorry, it's been a long time since I accidentally shocked someone. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. So your a super?"
Leslie scratched her head, "people call us Metas now, but yeah I'm a Super." She held out her hands and let a stream of lightning bounce back and forth between each palm. "I used to use my powers for more than just party tricks but I've gone down the straight and narrow."
Markus began to sweat a little, 'gone down the straight and narrow, sounds like she just got out of prison or something.'
"Oh Markus, just so you know since the ASR always fails to inform new residents but this complex is a shared building. Half of the rooms are for those like you and me, people who are or aren't metas who are trying to build a new life. The other half are for heroes who need a place to crash for a few days or nights. One time, Black Canary stayed here, if you haven't heard her sing, her new album is incredible."
"Wait, Superheroes really stay here?"
"At times, but it can be pretty rare. I mean many Heroes can fly so it tends to be more street level heroes that stop by."
Markus nodded, perhaps he could get a signature of a hero he liked.
"Anyway, I'll leave you be neighbor. You have a meeting tomorrow morning at 9 am, so don't sleep in too late."