Altered Frequency

NOVEMBER 13, 1998

3rd PERSON POV

The next day as he left the dimly lit alley, Brendan couldn't help but feel a sense of both despair and determination, for Crime Alley was a constant reminder of the city's deep-rooted problems. There was an ever-present fog wafting over the city creating shadows out of nothing and giving the environment a sense of foreboding.

Brendan dressed in some worn-out clothes and shoes given to him by the staff as his old ones had been stained with his blood along with a backpack filled with his meds, and a few bandages and adjusted the strap of his worn backpack, feeling a mixture of exhaustion and purpose. He knew he had a long walk ahead of him, but he found solace in the quiet streets during these early hours. With each step, he took in the sights and sounds of Gotham awakening from its restless slumber. Crime Alley was a collection of multiple dimly lit alleys which seemed to stretch for almost a never-ending distance and infamous for the unsavory individuals and marked by its shattered windows, crumbling buildings, and a sense of foreboding. Brendan couldn't help but shudder as he emerged from the gloom, feeling a mixture of unease and determination. Despite the early hour, the denizens of Gotham seemed to be perpetually on edge, their weary faces etched with a mixture of weariness and apprehension. Conversations were hushed, carried out in quick whispers as if secrecy was a necessity in the shadowy corners of the city.

Leaving Crime Alley behind, Brendan made his way through the gradually brightening neighborhoods, passing by rows of dilapidated buildings and the occasional flickering streetlight. The city seemed to have a different personality at this time of day—a muted and eerie ambiance that the previous owner of the body had become accustomed to but at this moment it was just giving him eerie vibes. Carrying the weight of his worn backpack, Brendan began his journey through the labyrinthine streets of Gotham City. The towering skyscrapers, adorned with neon signs, loomed above him, casting long shadows that seemed to whisper secrets of the city's troubled past. He navigated through the bustling downtown area, where throngs of people hurried to their daily routines, their footsteps echoing against the cold concrete. The streets teemed with a diverse tapestry of individuals, each one carrying its burden of survival. Some walked with a purpose, their eyes focused straight ahead, determined to reach their destinations unscathed. Others shuffled along, heads hung low, worn down by the weight of life in Gotham. A few street vendors, with weary smiles and calloused hands, set up their stalls, offering goods that ranged from hot cups of coffee to meager breakfast options, their meager earnings a testament to the frugality of Gotham's residents.

Brendan observed the interactions that unfolded around him. Some passersby exchanged cautious glances, wary of any potential threat lurking in the shadows. A few brave souls stopped to offer spare change or a kind word to those in need, recognizing the shared struggle that united them. But beneath it all, a palpable tension lingered in the air, a silent agreement that danger could materialize at any moment.

The general tone of the city matched its reputation—dark, brooding, and ever-present. The architectural grandeur that defined Gotham City stood juxtaposed with a pervasive sense of decay. Buildings wore the scars of previous conflicts, their windows shattered, and walls marred by graffiti, like a visual manifestation of the city's battle scars. The narrow alleyways and dimly lit corners seemed to beckon trouble as if darkness itself resided in the nooks and crannies of Gotham.

Leaving the cacophony of crime alley and its surroundings behind, Brendan ventured into Bowery, a neighborhood infamous for its poverty and crime as well as its rich history and vibrant atmosphere. The architecture of Bowery reflects its storied past. Historic buildings with ornate facades line the streets, harking back to a bygone era. Some structures stand proud and meticulously maintained, offering a glimpse into the grandeur of Gotham's early days. Others bear the weight of time, their faded exteriors and crumbling brickwork echoing the passage of years. Yet, the juxtaposition of old and new creates an intriguing tapestry that defines Bowery's character. Graffiti covered the walls, telling stories of struggle, frustration, and resilience.

Brendan couldn't help but feel a mix of sorrow and admiration for the residents who persevered amidst the chaos. With each step closer to his home overlooking Sprang River, Brendan internalized the complexities of the city. Gotham's people, like the city itself, were resilient, unyielding in their pursuit of survival. They wore their scars as badges of honor, their weary expressions a testament to their endurance.

As he continued his journey, Brendan's path led him toward Sprang River, its waters reflecting the morning light like a mosaic of shimmering diamonds. He approached the Sprang Bridge, an iconic structure that spanned the river, connecting different parts of the city. The bridge, though weathered and worn, stood as a symbol of resilience amidst the chaos of Gotham.

With a quickened pace, Brendan crossed the bridge, feeling the vibrations of passing vehicles beneath his feet. The view from the bridge was captivating; the river flowed steadily, carrying untold stories of the city's history, while the majestic skyline of Gotham City rose on either side, a testament to its enduring spirit.

Finally, Brendan arrived at his modest house, nestled snugly on the riverbank. It offered a panoramic view of Sprang River, its surface rippling with each passing breeze. The modest exterior of the house held within it a sanctuary—a refuge from the chaos and darkness that permeated the city. Brendan cherished this humble abode, finding solace in the simplicity it provided amidst the intricate tapestry of Gotham's complexities.

BRENDAN'S POV

As I stepped wearily through the creaking doorway of my dilapidated home, a wave of exhaustion washed over me. The old wooden floors groaned beneath my feet, echoing the weight of my burdened thoughts. As I make my way to the hall my head started aching again as memories of parents not my own lingered in every corner, their presence etched into the faded wallpaper and worn furniture. But alongside the warmth of their memory, a daunting reality loomed before me, it was also the reason old I was hurt that badly, the original Brendan's mother, a housewife had gotten ill with some type of radiation poisoning.

His father who was a crane operator at Port Adams, said that it was due to spending her childhood at Calvin College where his grandfather was a nuclear physicist, treatment for her condition cost them a lot of money and it soon started eating into their savings, soon his father had taken loans from the Carmine crime family but still it was all futile as the boy's mother passed away one and a half year ago and 4 months ago his father too passed away after a shooting between some thugs from the Maroni crime family and cops.

Since then his had become a living nightmare, he had a debt of $200000 on his head with the only thing to his name was everything not bolted down in this house and a sum of $800 hidden in one of the stairs, Old me had gotten a job as a worker at Port Adams through a friend of his fathers but even the back-breaking work was not enough to gradually pay back his debt which was the reason that few a thugs caught Brendan when he was returning from his job and gave him a beat down and stole all his belongings on him at that moment just for fun, but Brendan didn't survive that night was replaced by me but I don't think even I survived at the time when I fainted in the street and at moment the part of shocker's soul got mixed in mine to keep me alive, but how the fuck did his soul even travel a whole universe is anyone's guess.

Thinking about all these things I sank into a worn armchair, memories of the Shocker from Marvel comics flickered through my mind. The character's electrifying powers and criminal escapades had once fascinated me, but now they served as a chilling reminder of my predicament. I couldn't escape the parallels between his story and my own. Like a hero confronting an overwhelming nemesis, I found myself facing a colossal debt, a legacy that I never asked for but was now mine to bear. With each passing moment, the weight of the situation pressed down on me. The Falcone family's reputation for violence and treachery cast a dark shadow over my thoughts. How could I possibly repay such an astronomical sum? Fear and uncertainty threatened to consume me, but deep within, a glimmer of determination ignited.

But Gotham City, with all its flaws and dangers, offered opportunities for those willing to navigate its treacherous underbelly. I began to contemplate my strengths and possibilities. Perhaps I could leverage my knowledge of this world's DC universe, a world I had avidly followed through comics and movies, to find a way out of this labyrinth of debt and most importantly get powerful enough to make my way back home.

20th NOVEMBER, 1998

BRENDAN'S POV

It has been 7 days since came I back to this house and my surprise the wound on my head healed just 3 days after I came back and yesterday my ribs too stopped hurting, I don't know how but this body heals quickly, quicker than an average human I'll take any good news I can at this point because in just five days I have to repay another 1000$ to Falcone mob or else another beating might be on the cards and this time there might not be another soul plucked from a different universe and put into this body to keep me alive. As for the crime scene of Gotham, There have been sightings of a bat-themed entity among the criminal elements of the city but no full-blown mention of Batman in any of the newspapers, superman has been seen doing hero work in the metropolis and a red blur has found helping stop crime in the central city, the green lantern has been seen in the coast city

my memories from Brendan's included various history lessons before he dropped out of high school included lessons on how the JSA turned the tide of the war and their involvement in preventing some catastrophes which meant there were already some superhumans present this time.

I had long thought about whether I should leave the city or not as Gotham wasn't for the faint of heart and soon it would become a hotbed for all sorts of weirdos and psychos but as I wise man once said chaos is a ladder and information is power, this city is chaos incarnate and well I have plenty of information and here I can establish a base to acquire the power needed to return home but for that, I had to first survive the falcones.

Say what you will about shocker but the dude was a genius of the highest order, he didn't have any education but the dude still created a suit a suit and weapons out of metal trash in a prison workshop, if he had just used those correctly he wouldn't even have to resort to crime in the first place but I digress.

Ever since coming back from doc Thompkins's clinic, I had an unexpected surge of intelligence and knowledge, I could now understand a lot of stuff I couldn't before and to test it I went to the local library and started reading books up on electrical engineering and to my shock, stuff started making sense to me and even as I was reading new ways to apply the said knowledge became apparent to me. I spent 3 days just constantly reading books on electronics, engineering, vibrations, and sound and it astounded me to how much I knew as compared to my last life.

Since I had just 2 more days to go to repay 5000$ I devised a plan to get the money. I didn't spend the last three 3 days reading books I was constantly looking for targets that can give me a payday and were total scumbags so I wouldn't feel bad after robbing them dry and I found a match for both of the requirements.

Meet the Cobalts, a notorious street-level gang from the Bowery, they are bottom feeders for the Irish mob and work around the corners and blocks selling drugs and extorting local business owners. They are also known for their proficiency in armed robbery, The gang's name stems from their signature attire, which consists of cobalt blue hooded jackets and blue bandanas. They are Led by a leader named "Slate," the Cobalt Shadows are a loosely organized group of street-level criminals. They primarily operate in the more rundown and neglected neighborhoods of Gotham, targeting vulnerable communities and businesses. Their activities include petty theft, muggings, and low-level drug dealing. They have a safe house at the edge of the Bowery which I have scoped out and as far as the shocker's memory goes it looks like an easy score if I can make the equipment I am thinking of.

Drawing inspiration from one of the shocker's equipments I planned to try and recreate his vibro-gloves specifically the primitive ones he made in prison seeing my lack of capital and all, first I went to the local electronics store and bought a bunch of old video game controllers from Waynetech, the vibration motors from those would be the core component for the gloves, and next for the power supply I needed a compact and lightweight energy source that could provide enough electricity to drive the vibration motors. After some extensive research, I settled on a high-capacity rechargeable lithium-ion battery typically used in portable electronics. This would allow me to have a reliable power source while keeping the overall weight and size of the gloves manageable.

Next, I went to a sheet metal shop and bought small metal plates made out of different that would serve as resonators. These plates would be strategically placed within the gloves, allowing the vibrations to be concentrated at the point of impact ensuring that they could withstand the force generated by the motors.

With the main components in place, I turned my attention to the control mechanism. I designed a simple circuit board with an adjustable dial, allowing him to regulate the intensity of the vibrations. This would allow me to tailor the gloves' power output to different situations and opponents. Additionally, I tore apart my microwave and used its component to integrate a safety mechanism to prevent overheating and potential damage to the gloves or himself.

Finally, I assembled the various components, wiring the motors, battery, and control mechanism into a pair of rugged gloves I had acquired. Though not as sleek or sophisticated as Shocker's Vibro-Gloves, my creation was functional within my limited budget.

Now was the time to test the gloves, my entire plan dependent on whether they worked or not, I went out behind my house and put a bunch of cinderblocks on top of each other and aimed my gloves at them, and pressed on the button on my palm with a booming voice I was thrown back and my arm too started aching a little bit but as I stood and saw the cinderblocks they were completely blown away and one of them was even crushed, seeing this a smile crept up my face and all I could do was laugh.

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A/N: there will be some burgling in the next chapter so stay tuned