Altered Frequency

19TH MAY, 1999

BRENDAN'S HOUSE

BRENDAN'S POV

Positioning myself beneath the weight bar, I could feel the anticipation coursing through my pulsating muscles. With a firm grip, I inhaled deeply, drawing in the energy of the room. Slowly, deliberately, I began my descent, the iron plates bending under the sheer force of my determination. A symphony of strained metal echoed in the air as I smoothly pushed the weight upward, each repetition punctuated by a primal grunt escaping my lips. Bench pressing 150 kilograms had transformed from a daunting challenge to a routine accomplishment, a feat that once appeared insurmountable. In my previous life I couldn't even lift 30 kgs without getting tired but now I was benching five times as much with little effort.

As I completed my final set, sweat trickling down my forehead, I couldn't help but marvel at the changes my body had undergone since arriving in this world six months ago. I hadn't done anything extraordinary or magical, yet just like my mind my physique too had transformed steadily, bit by bit, pushing closer to a better version of itself than it had been the previous, micro changes took place as I slowly realized I could lift a little more, jump a bit higher, move faster than average mind you nothing superhuman not at least according to the freak standards of superhuman in this world but definitely better than average. At times I felt like my body was self-correcting itself like it had been shrunk from its original form and now it was slowly getting back to its peak.

As much as I wanted to enjoy these new perks as it worried me to a certain extent because these slow changes weren't something I had worked for, they had just come, for free, and just like my father from my life before said nothing is ever truly free in this world, All things demand payments we just don't know the costs.

I put these thoughts in the back of my mind with a reminder to find someone who can help check what's up with my body and mind or at least learn enough biology so that I can self-diagnose.

I finished my shower and vigorously dried myself with a fluffy towel, savoring the sensation of warmth and cleanliness. A thirst nagged at me, so I grabbed a bottle of chilled water, relishing its refreshing taste as I made my way downstairs. With a sense of anticipation, I stepped onto the porch to collect the morning newspaper. The inked pages crackled in my hands as I scanned the headlines, my eyes drawn to the remnants of yesterday's chaos. The Falcones, Maroni's, and masked thugs had dominated the news, their violent clash still reverberating through the city. The gruesome discovery of 31 charred bodies in a motel on the outskirts of Gotham served as a chilling reminder of the underworld's ruthlessness. The article spared no details, recounting the aftermath of a savage shootout between rival gangs, leaving no names but an appalling body count. The puppet masters definetly had a hand in eliminating the details from the papers.

Toni, not being a son of a bitch for the first time in a while, had granted me a few days off to let the heat from the incident dissipate. It was an unexpected respite amidst the storm. Taking advantage of this fleeting peace, I luxuriated in a hot bath, the scented water soothing my weary muscles. Dressed in my best attire, I left the comfort of my home behind, venturing into the vibrant tapestry that was the Upper East Side of Gotham.

The city unfolded before me like a vivid painting, bursting with life and energy. It defied its reputation for darkness, revealing a symphony of sights and sounds that enraptured my senses. Each step carried me deeper into this mosaic of humanity, where a diverse cast of characters contributed their own vibrant threads to the intricate fabric of this extraordinary place.

As I wandered through the bustling streets, my gaze swept over the ebb and flow of life around me. Impeccably dressed businessmen hurried past, their polished shoes resonating with purpose on the pavement, consumed by the cadence of their ambitions. Street vendors, their stalls adorned with an array of colorful wares, beckoned passersby with infectious enthusiasm. Weary yet determined mothers guided their children through the urban labyrinth, their faces etched with both weariness and unwavering devotion. Gotham revealed itself as a city in motion, a symphony of dreams and aspirations dancing upon its cobblestones.

Monolith Square loomed ahead, its vibrancy captivating my attention. My gaze swept across the architectural marvels that graced its periphery, each structure a testament to Gotham's rich history and evolving spirit. The "C" Building stood tall, exuding an air of grandeur as it whispered stories of a bygone era. Its weathered stone facade carried the weight of time, bearing witness to the rise and fall of countless fortunes.

Adjacent to it, the Von Greenwald Building glistened with sleek sophistication. The glass exterior reflected the ever-changing skyline, a testament to the visionary architect Friedrich Von Greenwald. This masterpiece embodied Gotham's relentless pursuit of progress, a symbol of the city's relentless march into the future.

But it was the R.H. Kane Building that truly captured my attention, its towering presence dominating the square. This architectural masterpiece stood as a tribute to the Kanes of Kane County, whose wealth sprouted from the lands just north of Gotham. The connection of their lands to the city by the Robert H. Kane Bridge fueled their fortunes, and the Kane Building stood as a testament to their influence and success. It was a beacon of progress in a rapidly changing world, its ornate spires reaching toward the heavens.

The history of the Kane Building is intertwined with the very growth and development of Gotham itself. Like a silent guardian, it weathered fires, economic downturns, and the occasional scandal. Its hallowed halls had witnessed the signing of crucial contracts, the birth of ambitious ideas, and the forging of powerful alliances. Within its walls, the destiny of Gotham had been shaped, its legacy etched into every brick and beam.

Suddenly, raindrops began to fall from the overcast sky, casting a hazy veil over the vibrant streets. The once brilliant colors muted under the gray pallor. Seeking refuge, I hastened my steps towards a nearby bus stand, where I noticed a solitary figure already taking shelter. The man exuded an air of strength and command, his tall and broad-shouldered frame demanding attention. Chiseled features accentuated his strong jawline, while his impeccably styled dark hair added a touch of sophistication to his overall appearance. I chose a seat beside him, maintaining a respectful distance.

The man fidgeted with something in his hands, which upon closer inspection turned out to be an old coin. With a flick of his wrist, he effortlessly tossed the coin into the air, catching it in his palm before glancing at it with a satisfied smile. Intrigued, I couldn't help but be drawn into his enigmatic aura.

"Hello there," he greeted me with a friendly nod. "I'm new in town, and I don't really know anyone here. Mind if I join you?"

I welcomed his presence with a gesture, offering him a seat. "Not at all. Gotham can be a tough city to navigate alone."

Leaning back, a hint of curiosity flickered in his eyes. "So, what does a man do for some fun in this town?"

I pondered for a moment, considering the countless possibilities that Gotham offered. "Well, there are some remarkable shopping complexes if that's your interest or you can visit The Amusement Mile, it's a new amusement park and if you seek a touch of the dramatic, the Gotham Theater showcases outstanding performances."

The man nodded appreciatively, a genuine appreciation for the suggestions evident in his expression. "Thanks for the insights. " then a slight hint of curiosity took root on his face " If you don't mind me asking, You look like young man who should still be in school or college. What brings you out on a weekday afternoon?"

I hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal about my circumstances. " it's fine, My dad passed away last year so I actually dropped out of school. I work at the docks now, trying to make a living just like every other guy walking around this city"

Curiosity sparked in the man's eyes as he leaned closer, a subtle intensity emanating from him. "And what about you? What brings you to this city? Gotham isn't exactly known for its hospitality or pleasant weather."

Light laughter escaped the man's lips as if he held a secret only he knew. "You're right about that. But I have a new job in town. And you know, it's not all gloom and doom here. In the short time I have been here the people of this city are resilient to say the least, it's just a tough place to live but that isn't the fault of the people around here."

Skepticism tainted my response, and I couldn't help but scoff. "I don't know about that. Nothing good seems to happen here."

With a touch as gentle as a whisper, the man's arm found its way onto my shoulder, his words carrying a weight beyond their mere utterance. "Young man, you shouldn't say things like that. Gotham is capable of great good, but it starts with us, with what we choose to believe and how we act."

As if in response to his wisdom, the rain began to relent, its drumming transforming into a mere drizzle. The man rose from the bench, preparing to depart. Before he walked away, he extended his arm for a handshake, his voice filled with sincerity.

"It was a pleasure talking to you," he said, his warmth permeating the air.

I firmly grasped his outstretched hand, introducing myself in return. "Likewise, I'm Brendan."

A jolt of surprise coursed through me as the man revealed his true identity. "Harvey Dent, the new public prosecutor in town."

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After the encounter with Harvey Dent, a surge of shock coursed through my veins. Meeting someone of such significance and relevance to the world I had only observed from a distance had an immediate and profound impact on me. The people I had encountered in Gotham until now seemed like fleeting shadows, their influence barely rippling the surface of the city's complex dynamics. But Harvey Dent was different. He exuded a depth and tragedy that set him apart from the ordinary citizens of Gotham. His very presence had disrupted my carefully planned schedule, throwing it into disarray.

Shaking off the remnants of astonishment, I regained my focus and altered my direction. With the rain subsided, I decided to veer away from the upper east side and instead make my way toward the Sprang Bridge. As I navigated through the streets of Gotham, the aftermath of the rain was apparent. The city appeared refreshed, with the dust and grime cleansed away. The Sprang River sparkled as rays of sunlight escaped the fading dark clouds. I entered the Bowery, passing through streets and houses that held memories of my early days in this world. But my destination lay beyond, and I pressed forward.

Soon, I arrived at Crime Alley—the name itself sending shivers down the spines of even the bravest souls in Gotham. This was a place where the city's darkness seemed to gather, where the echoes of past tragedies whispered through the narrow, winding streets. Dilapidated buildings loomed overhead, their cracked windows and crumbling facades reflecting the scars etched into the soul of this forsaken place. The air hung heavy with the scent of decay, mingling with distant sirens and muffled conversations, painting a vivid portrait of desolation.

After a few minutes, I reached my true destination—Doctor Thompson's clinic. Volunteering at the clinic and the adjacent school had become a regular part of my routine, offering solace and respite from my own worries. Stepping inside, I was greeted by the sight of Doc Thompkins scolding a patient in a wheelchair for neglecting his medication.

"Doc, if you keep chewing your patients' ears off, no one will want to come here for treatment," I remarked with a hint of humor.

She turned toward me, a beaming smile illuminating her face. "Ah, Brendan! I thought I wouldn't see you until the weekend. What brings you here at this time? Is everything okay?"

Preferring not to burden her with my thoughts, I simply replied, "Everything's fine. I had some free time to spare, so I thought I'd continue teaching the kids from where we left off last time."

She looked at me with a sense of pride in her voice. "Look at you! Just six months ago, you were lying in one of my beds, all beaten up. And now, here you are, dedicating your time to help these underprivileged kids receive an education."

"I'm no saint, Doc. Just passing the time and if the kids learn something from me, it's time well spent," I replied modestly.

With a playful nod, she said, "Yeah, yeah, Mr. Toocooltoteachkids. Just wait in the lounge. The children will arrive shortly."

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It was around 9 PM when we finished our work at the clinic and school. The kids had left a couple of hours ago, and I stayed behind to help with cleaning and managing the register. The work didn't bring any monetary rewards, but the fulfillment it offered was immeasurable.

I approached Doc Thompkins to bid her goodnight and take my leave when she approached me with a young girl in tow.

"Hey, Brendan, if it's not too much trouble, can you drop Alice off at her house? Her mother was supposed to pick her up hours ago but couldn't make it. She just called and told me she had to work another shift at the factory. I would take her myself, but an emergency patient arrived, and I need to attend to them," Doc Thompkins explained.

Understanding the situation, I responded, "No problem, I can drop her off."

Kneeling down to Alice's level and ruffling her hair, I spoke gently to the young girl. "Don't worry, princess. We'll get you home in no time."

Alice beamed at me, expressing her gratitude. "Thanks a bunch, Mr. Myers."

Extending my arm for her to hold onto, we left the clinic and ventured into the alley. As we walked, I engaged in light conversation with Alice. She revealed that she lived just a few blocks away from Crime Alley. However, an unsettling feeling began to creep over me. I couldn't shake the sense that someone was following us. Stealing a glance behind, my suspicions were confirmed—a large, heavy-set man in a dirty white T-shirt, suspenders, and a hat trailed us from a distance.

Determined not to give the pursuer any opportunity, I quickened my pace and scooped Alice into my arms, hastening our steps. The man noticed our increased speed and matched it, persistently tailing us. In an effort to shake him off, I decided to leave the main street and venture into a maze of interconnected alleyways. Despite our best efforts, we found ourselves cornered.

Reaching the edge of the neighborhood, the distant sound of the flowing river reached my ears, signaling our proximity to the riverbank. I thought we had finally lost the man tailing us, but just as I took another turn, a powerful haymaker struck my face, sending me sprawling across the ground. The force of the blow also launched Alice a few meters away, tumbling through the air.

I scrambled to my feet, my gaze fixated on our assailant—none other than the heavy-set man who had been following us. A wicked smile played on his lips as he cracked his knuckles, his voice thick with menace. "You gave us quite a workout, running all over the place. Now, just hand over the girl and walk away before we break you like a toothpick."

From behind, another voice joined in. "Tweedledum, no need to give him any chances. This boy looks like one of the heroic types. Let's finish him off and deliver the girl to the boss." Glancing backward, I realized it was another man, nearly identical to the first. It clicked in my mind—they were the Tweedle brothers, Dumfree Tweed and Deever Tweed, cousins so alike that they were often mistaken for twins.

As I pieced together the clues—their hats, Alice's name—I realized they were working for the Mad Hatter, that abhorrent pedophile operating in Gotham. With Alice now safely hidden behind me, I assumed a boxing stance, preparing to face these supposed comedic characters. However, in the harsh light of reality, they were far from comical. Towering over me, their immense bodies suggested great strength, as evidenced by the earlier haymaker thrown by Tweedledum.

Whispering quietly to Alice, trying to reassure her amidst the chaos, I interrupted her words. "When I say 'go,' run out of this alley and find help, okay?" Fear and confusion still etched on her face, she questioned, "But what about you, Mr. My--"

Cutting her off, I urged, "Just get out of here. I can handle these chumps. Your priority is to get help."

The Tweedle brothers, visibly displeased with my defiance, sneered at my dismissive words. "What did you say, punk? You think you can handle us? Looks like we need to teach you some street manners." Both of them lunged at me simultaneously, initiating a relentless barrage of punches. I swiftly evaded their blows, weaving between them with calculated agility, determined not to let their fists find their mark.

"Tweedledee, the girl's getting away. We need to capture her, or the boss will have our heads," one of the brothers exclaimed urgently. In an attempt to pursue Alice, he broke away from the skirmish. Seizing the opportunity, I delivered a swift kick to the back of his knee, causing him to stumble and lose his balance. Meanwhile, I continued exchanging blows with the other brother.

"You're really starting to get on my nerves. Initially, we only planned to break your bones, but now I'm going to relish beating the life out of you," the remaining brother taunted as his fist landed squarely in my liver. The blow knocked the wind out of me, creating a brief reprieve between us.

Seizing the moment, I activated my vibro-gloves, increasing their power to the highest setting. "Yeah, me too. The kiddie gloves are off now."

Mocking my choice of weapons, Tweedledum sneered, "You think some toys are going to scare us?" But little did they know, I had a surprise in store for them. Filled with determination, I warned, "If I were you, I'd run as far away from here as possible."

Without hesitation, I unleashed a vibro-shock towards the brothers, its impact knocking the smug expressions off their faces as they hurtled several meters towards the riverbank. Unrelenting, I pressed my advantage, launching attack after attack, each blow sending the Tweedle brothers flying through the air, testing the limits of their endurance.

After a couple of blows, both the meatheads were sprawled out on the ground, their brawn now reduced to pathetic heaps on the unforgiving ground. Approaching their fallen bodies, I adjusted my vibro-gloves to a lower setting, the crackling energy dissipating as I clenched my fist. Gripping one of them by the hair, I yanked his head up, forcing eye contact.

"The fuck were you after, terrorizing a little girl? Who do you work for, and where can I find your despicable boss?" My voice dripped with both anger and determination, my grip tightening on his hair, causing him to wince.

The brother defiantly spat in my face, his saliva landing on my cheek. "I ain't tellin' you shit, punk. My boss ain't someone you want to mess with. He don't take kindly to tattletales ."

A cruel smile curved my lips as I wiped the spittle from my face. "We'll see just how loyal you are to him. You were bragging about breaking me like a toothpick earlier, weren't you?" My voice oozed with venomous intent. Activating the vibro-gloves once again, I set them to a low-vibration mode, the same mode that shattered the safe at the Cobalt's hideout. Firmly grasping his arm, the subtle vibrations started to course through him, his muscles tensing, and pain creeping into his eyes.

"Time's ticking, buddy. You've got fifteen seconds to spill the beans, or your precious arm turns to mush. No doctor in this world can put you back together after that. And if you still choose to stay silent, well, you've got three limbs left before I move on to your internal organs." The threat hung heavy in the air, my words blending with his screams of agony. I couldn't be sure if he even heard me over the piercing cries, but it didn't matter.

Lost in the intensity of the interrogation, I momentarily forgot to keep an eye on the other brother. With a sudden burst of movement, he launched himself at me, catching me off guard. The meathead's substantial weight collided with the railing of the riverbank, the impact shattering it upon contact. The force sent me hurtling backward, my body propelled into the icy waters below. The world spun, my vision blackened around the edges as the jarring tackle threatened to steal consciousness from me. Frenziedly struggling against the powerful current, I fought to stay afloat, my disoriented mind struggling to comprehend my surroundings.

As the river's relentless flow dragged me along, threatening to claim me as its own, the last conscious thought that flickered through my mind was the sight of a green, scaly hand snaking toward me. In a final act of salvation, it gripped my waist, wrenching me from the water's clutches before darkness overcame me.

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A/N: So I hope you guys don't mind me giving Brendan some perks of reincarnation, rest assured it isn't baseless and will be explained sometime in ACT 2, aside from that Brendan met with Harvey Dent, he is still new to the city, god only knows what this city has in store for him, also as promised two villains from batman's rogue gallery make their appearance and another is mentioned, do give your views whether you liked this chapter or not, your feedback is appreciated