Marvel: Scientist reborn as Superman

With the first rays of sunlight, I felt a wave of new energy begin to penetrate my body. It filled me with a gentle warmth, and the discomfort that had tormented me just a moment ago slowly melted away. The night dampness that had permeated the forest thicket receded along with the fog, and now, after several hours spent here, I had already managed to fully adapt to my unusual — no, even "superhuman" — vision.At first, I found it amusing to simply gaze at the moon: to see the relief of its surface, to distinguish the craters that had previously been nothing more than white spots in the night sky. But soon, when my gaze shifted beyond the familiar limits, I discovered something that turned my world upside down. I was looking straight into the black infinity of space and felt as if my consciousness was piercing through space itself.

My eyes seemed to turn into hyperspectral telescopes. I saw an asteroid hurtling somewhere in the belt between Mars and Jupiter. I could see the tiniest cracks on its rough surface, protrusions of rock that looked like they could break off at any second, even though it had broken off from somewhere else millions of years ago. I could make out layers that looked like frozen waves of history, from the birth of the solar system to the present day. But that was only the beginning.

Then my pupils contracted, and the universe opened up before me even more vast and deep than I could have imagined. I caught myself jokingly calling it "Kryptonian optics." But how else to explain what was happening? Perhaps the cells of my retina absorb not only photons of the visible spectrum, but also harder types of radiation — gamma, X-rays, ultraviolet — and all this is somehow amplified by the yellow sun, converting the energy into impulses that my super-brain manages to decipher.

Or maybe I don't see light itself, a time traveller, but rather the fabric of space: gravitational waves, quantum fluctuations, even future light that hasn't reached our planet yet. It was as if my consciousness had jumped out of its usual framework and my senses had learned to read the cosmos directly. Thousands of questions flashed through my mind, and even my seemingly enhanced intellect began to falter: too many hypotheses, too few facts.

I decided to shift my focus — and immediately a yellow dwarf appeared before my eyes, its shining halo resembling a giant plasma corona against a black background. Next to this star was a planet, which I initially mistook for Earth. But upon closer inspection, I realised that this was not our home. It was a world without cities or lights, but it was alive, covered by a dense atmosphere. I saw huge storms raging over the oceans and tornadoes the size of entire continents, spawned by monstrous temperature differences. On the surface of this mysterious world, glaciers slowly crept towards the equator, and volcanoes incessantly spewed ash, staining the sky with eerie copper tones. There was not a single hint of roads, not a hint of intelligent life — only the eternal dance of the elements.

How did I see this? Where was the line between my perception and objective reality? My head was literally splitting from countless guesses. It seemed that a little more and my brain would simply boil over from overload.

The thought that thousands of years ago, the light from this distant star had only just begun its journey to Earth, and I was observing it in the "here and now," struck me to the core. It was as if my eyes were not ordinary receptors, but a real bridge through space and time. Perhaps this phenomenon is quantum synchronisation, allowing my eyes to capture the wave function of particles without the characteristic delay of light years? Or is my bioplasma interacting with a stream of tachyons, hypothetical particles that are not affected by the speed of light?

The harder I tried to understand the essence of this phenomenon, the faster everything began to dissipate. I felt the boundless picture of the cosmos collapse, as if I myself were forcibly closing the door with my disbelief and endless theories. All that remained were "ordinary" enhanced abilities: the ability to see the details of the moon even more clearly, to see through trees, rocks, and probably other obstacles. But the boundless grandeur of the universe, that stunning infinity in which I had just been floating, was gone. I tried in vain to "bring" the distant stars closer again, hoping to return to where my mind had been floating just a few moments ago, but it was useless.

"What was that?" I asked myself, struggling to get up from the ground. "Was it a real vision of space or just a sophisticated hallucination that my brain interpreted as reality?" My legs were shaking slightly, but with every second I gained more confidence in my body. It seemed that the process of subtle "recalibration" was complete.

"Damn..." I whispered, not knowing who I was addressing. "What a powerful 'arrival' that was. And the strangest thing is that I don't feel like a tiny speck of dust in front of the vastness of space..."

I stopped to analyse my feelings. When I saw that simple but boundless beauty, experienced contact with the stars and distant galaxies, I didn't want to press myself to the ground and admit my insignificance. Instead, I felt as if I were standing above this entire infinite universe. A frightening thought, because it borders on monstrous pride. Or was it insane arrogance born of shock at new possibilities?My heart was pounding, and my mind was racing, trying to find a logical explanation. I thought, "What if there is something in my nature that I have always suspected but never fully realised?" It seemed to me that I could reach that level of perception again if only I knew what "switch" was clicking in my head. But would I risk it, knowing that the emotional cost could be too high?

I allowed myself a short break, leaned against the trunk of the nearest tree and immersed myself in leisurely reflection:

"On the one hand, this gift is frightening. I have seen stars, planets and forces that humanity does not even suspect exist. I almost understood the principles that could break the fundamental laws of physics. On the other hand, I have to admit that I'm not ready to give it up. Part of me craves more — new discoveries, new levels of reality... But will I be able to keep myself sane if I go back to a place where any thought experiment becomes reality?

A few moments later, I seemed to wake up, because my prolonged immersion in my own thoughts threatened to completely confuse me.

"All right, enough thinking..." I muttered and shook my head, as if trying to shake out the extra hypotheses. "Otherwise, I think I'll get even more confused."

At that point, I decided to interrupt my train of thought, realising that I might have to return to these questions again. But for now, that was enough.

Picking up speed and practically merging with the darkness, I returned to my room in just a few seconds. Cool air came in through the open window, and without undressing, I dove under the blanket, covering my head. There was still an hour left before I had to get up, and I yawned, realising how much I wanted to sleep. My whole body ached with fatigue, and my head was buzzing from the night's events. But despite this, I was incredibly glad to be able to give myself at least a little rest.

Sleep, however, did not bring complete relief. I was woken up at exactly seven in the morning, and this awakening was extremely unfortunate: on any other day I would have gotten up without any problems, but today my soul and body wanted to sleep until lunchtime. Most of all, I wanted to stay in my soft bed and forget about training, assignments, and other people's stares. But, alas, the camp schedule had not been cancelled.

While I was putting on my trainers, I gathered my thoughts as usual and tried to digest everything that had happened during the night. The most important thing was that I had encountered real werewolves. Or rather, a female shapeshifter had appeared in my field of vision, who, turning into a wolf, attacked two of the damned and easily killed them. Not only was she stronger than these creatures, but she also possessed some kind of magic: her moonbeam, which seemed to burst out of the air, was clearly not a normal physical phenomenon.

I closed my eyes, trying to recreate that night scene in detail. Before my mind's eye appeared a familiar clearing, bathed in cold moonlight, and two ugly werewolves with bared fangs. Opposite them stood a girl with black hair, tense, as if ready to break away at any moment. I tried to remember every feature of her face. Then I concentrated on my memory, as if leafing through an internal catalogue of all the people I had ever seen in the camp. It came easily to me: I had the ability to remember the smallest details of any event I had witnessed. And then I found her: it was her, the same girl with black hair whom I had glimpsed several times in the camp.

Her name also came to mind: Diana Russell. Sixteen years old, she had come from California to this very same summer camp at the same time as me. She lived in the seventh squad and wasn't very sociable. Now that I knew who I was looking for, the next step was to talk to her and find out how dangerous she was. And if necessary, take action: I was a hunter, after all.

But first, I needed to pull myself together a little. I sat on the bench near the training field and thought about the best course of action. Training was about to begin, and I knew I didn't want to participate — after a night like that, I had no desire to do anything. So, after thinking it over, I got up and slowly walked over to the coach.

"Mr. Jenkils," I began quietly, trying to make my voice sound tired, "can I skip practice today? I'm not feeling well. Maybe I'm overheated: the heat today is just unbearable.

The coach, a tall, wiry man in his forties, frowned and looked at me with obvious concern.

"Bruce, maybe you should go to the infirmary? Have the nurse take a look at you. It could be heatstroke," he said.

"No, it's not that bad," I replied, pretending I could barely stand. "I think I just need to rest for a while, take a nap, and I'll be fine."

A sly smile flashed across Mr. Jenkel's face, and his eyes twinkled with mockery.

"A nap? Rest? You didn't get enough sleep, did you? Let me tell you something, lad," he smiled, but his voice sounded exaggeratedly serious. "You should sleep at night, not wander around with girls. All right, go on, you malingerer. Get some rest," he continued more gently. "I understand, you're young.

I nodded and thanked the coach. Let him guess that I wasn't telling him everything, but at least he treated me like a human being. "A good man," I thought, turning onto a side path leading from the stadium to the residential buildings. After walking a few dozen steps, I noticed a large spreading tree at the edge of the field. It seemed to beckon me with its shade and the promise of peace. However, I didn't just need to hide from the sun — I had a goal.

I looked around, made sure none of the guys were watching me, and jumped. I had enough strength to instantly land on one of the upper branches, hidden by green foliage. From up there, I could see almost the entire camp, and I activated my "super-sensitive" vision to find Diana. Soon I spotted her: she was sitting on a small, rickety pier away from the main beach, dangling her legs in the water and seemingly lost in thought.

I jumped down from the branch and slowly made my way to the jetty. A light breeze refreshed my face; the lake was damp, and it helped me to collect my thoughts.

As I approached, I noticed how the sun's rays, filtering through the foliage of the trees along the shore, glinted off her hair, casting strange golden reflections on the black strands. The wind played with these strands, gently lifting and lowering them, like the invisible hand of an artist adding subtle touches to a painting. Diana was dressed in a simple light blue T-shirt and shorts that barely reached the middle of her thighs. At first glance, there was nothing remarkable about her — just an ordinary sixteen-year-old girl from summer camp. But I could feel the tension emanating from her: every movement hinted at a hidden strength. She sat with her back straight, as if ready to jump up and defend herself or run away at any moment. At the same time, her face remained pensive, her gaze fixed on the water, where sunbeams danced and shadows flickered.

The whole scene seemed to be filled with a special silence, in which only the faint rustle of waves lapping against the shore, the gusty breath of the wind and the alarmed cries of birds somewhere in the distance could be heard. The main beach was bustling with life — children were splashing around, laughing loudly and playing ball, but here, on this small, quiet pier, time seemed to slow down.

I walked over to Diana and, without saying a word, sat down next to her, also dangling my legs in the water. I pretended to be suddenly interested in the small fish gliding between the rocks at the bottom and tried to look as carefree as possible. Diana glanced at me but didn't move, only tensing warily, like a wolf sensing danger.

"Maybe we should stop playing?" she asked suddenly, almost in a whisper, but with a threatening tone in her voice. "What do you want from me?"

I broke into a careless smile:

"Play? It was you who wanted to eat me for dinner yesterday, remember?" I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. "So I have some questions. I think it's in your best interest to answer them — you never know, I might not be the last one to notice your skills."

"I don't owe you anything," she snapped, standing up so abruptly that the floorboards beneath her feet almost creaked. "Who are you to lecture me?

It looked like she was about to leave. I realised I had to be tougher if I didn't want to lose the thread of the conversation.

"Sit down!" I said firmly, literally pinning her to the spot with my gaze. "Trust me, it's in your best interest."

She hesitated for a moment, but then obediently sat back down, allowing her legs to touch the water again. Now her face showed deep fatigue and sadness, and almost nothing remained of her former feigned defiance.

"Tell me, are you dangerous to those around you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady and calm.

"No," Diana shook her head. "I control myself. Otherwise, I would have been caught or killed long ago. So I am one hundred percent sure that I am not a threat to anyone who does not attack me first."

"Then why did you attack me last night?" I continued cautiously, trying not to miss a single emotion on her face.

"You... don't feel human," she admitted quietly, as if wondering whether she should tell me the details. "You don't even smell like them. That's why I didn't notice you until you spoke. When I heard your voice, I was scared... And during a full moon, all animal instincts are greatly heightened. When an animal is scared, it either runs away or attacks. I attacked. That's all."

I nodded silently, taking note of her explanation. Her excuse seemed logical, but that didn't make it any easier.

"All right," I said. "What about those two bastards? What were they doing here in the camp?"

"That's more complicated," she replied with obvious fatigue. "But to put it simply, they came for me."

"Well, I figured that much myself," I said, narrowing my eyes. "But I need details. We have plenty of time, and there's no reason you can't tell me everything in order."Diana sighed heavily and rolled her eyes, but she didn't refuse to continue the conversation:

"My father's name is Jack Russell. I inherited my shapeshifting ability from him. For the first fifteen years of my life, I lived without suspecting anything: my mother raised me alone, and I always thought we were a normal family. But on my last birthday, everything changed. The first time I turned into a wolf, I almost lost control. Then it turned out that I was lucky after all: I didn't kill anyone, but I scared my mother to death. That's when she confessed who my father was," Diana paused for a moment, as if deciding whether to continue, "and gave me his phone number. I called him. I introduced myself as his daughter and said, 'Hello, Mr Russell, I'm your daughter. I have a problem — I howl at the moon. Can you help me with that?'

She fell silent, clearly remembering that absurd situation and the feelings she had experienced.

I also sank into my thoughts, remembering what Abraham had told me about this very Jack Russell. He had been associated with our community for a long time, helping hunters when he could, but... he was a very complicated man with a tragic fate. And according to Abraham, he was a kind of "ally of the hunters." And also a very unhappy man.

I sat on the edge of the pier and thought about what to do with this information, looking at the calm water, where sunspots and shadows danced in a thoughtful dance. And at the same time, the image of John Russell, about whom I had heard so much but whom I had never seen in person, seemed to stand before my eyes.

*****

"Memories"

Abraham paused for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, and glanced around the dark room. In the light of the lone lamp, his face looked tired, and his eyes reflected hidden pain — memories of those he had met and lost over the long years of hunting evil. Then he raised his chin slightly and began to speak quietly but clearly:

"Not all 'children of the night' are soulless monsters, Bruce. There are those among them who, despite their curse, remain human, even in the guise of monsters. One such person is Jack Russell. He did not choose the path of darkness. Fate predetermined his birth, staining his blood with a hereditary sin. The Russell family line begins with Gregory Russoff, the madman who once sold his soul for superhuman strength without thinking about the price. Since then, every firstborn son in this family has become a werewolf... a living beast in human form.

Abraham's voice was calm and soft, but every word was tinged with bitterness. He frowned, as if remembering something painful:

"Jack didn't choose this fate, Bruce. On the full moon, his bones break, his muscles tear, his skin cracks, and his heart beats so hard it feels like it's going to burst out of his chest. And despite this unbearable suffering, he doesn't lose himself completely. In his eyes, even when they glow with an amber, predatory fire, there is a human mind. That is what makes him truly dangerous — to his enemies and to himself.

He paused for a moment to look me in the face and make sure I was listening carefully. I nodded, acknowledging that I was ready to absorb every word. Abraham continued:

"He now lives in Los Angeles. He tries to keep to himself, like a ghost among the skyscrapers. He works as a private detective, investigating cases involving monsters and supernatural creatures. He helps those who are being hunted by bloodthirsty beings... because he knows what it's like to be a monster.

Abraham sighed heavily, as if remembering something from his past. For a moment, he closed his eyes and ran his hand over his forehead, where a deep furrow of thought had formed.

"Blade and I met him in eighty-one... or maybe eighty? I won't lie, my memory fails me sometimes," he smiled slightly, noticing my raised eyebrow. "Back then, in the Los Angeles docks, the Mortu clan of vampires staged a real massacre. Jack was there — half man, half beast, tearing their throats out like a wild animal, but at the same time..."

Abraham closed his eyes as if reliving that moment, and raised his voice when he spoke again:

"He was crying, Bruce. Do you understand? Crying! I'll never forget that sight. After it was all over, he stood there, covered in blood and dust, and said, 'I didn't want to kill them. I'm not a murderer. But if I hadn't done it, they would have killed the children...'

I felt something painful tighten in my chest. It was hard to imagine that a beast with amber eyes could mourn his own rage. But wasn't that a sign of humanity?

"Since then, he's been our ally," Abraham continued. "I can't say he's a friend — people like Blade and me don't have close friends. But he's reliable. When the full moon comes, he locks himself in a cage so he won't hurt anyone. Although, they say he's learned to control the beast inside, he's still terrified of losing control and taking an innocent life. You wouldn't wish that horror on anyone.

Abraham rose from his creaky chair and slowly paced the room. I watched him and saw his reflection glide silently behind him on the wall. Going up to a small window, he looked outside, as if searching for something in the evening twilight. In the silence, only my tense breathing and the creaking of the floorboards under Abraham's feet could be heard.

"You know what the scariest thing about all this is?" he said without turning around. It seemed as if he was talking more to himself than to me. "Jack wants to be a hero. Even when the whole world sees him as a monster, he doesn't give up, he doesn't let his cursed blood decide who he is. That's why, to be honest, he's more human than many people.

*****

And Diana, it turns out," — his daughter. His firstborn, who inherited the cursed blood. The very blood that leaves no chance for choice and imposes the path of a monster. Now I looked at the girl differently: my gaze was filled with compassion and sadness. Poor child, whose life had been turned upside down in an instant, and with it, her childhood had ended.

"Don't look at me with pity," she said, her eyes flashing as if warning me. "I don't like that. Fate decided to make me this way, and I accepted the beast inside me.

"All right, all right," I raised my hands in surrender. "No more sympathy. I'm becoming serious again. It's just that... I've heard something about your father and know a little about his story.

"You know my dad?" Her eyebrows rose in surprise, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Not personally," I shook my head. "But there's a lot of talk about him among hunters. They say he was a very honourable man," I added with a good-natured smile.

"I see... So you're a hunter," Diana said, her voice betraying mixed feelings: either distrust or slight mockery. "And what do you eat that makes you all so... scary? My father warned me: 'If you meet a hunter, run, and worry about it later.

"I think he was right in your case," I smiled. "Usually hunters shoot first and ask questions later. That way, they have a better chance of surviving.

"Then why didn't you shoot?" Diana asked, narrowing her eyes playfully. A mischievous gleam flashed in her eyes.

"I was quite sure of myself. A little puppy like you," I deliberately waved my hand in the air, indicating the height of a small dog, "is no danger to me."

Frowning sharply, Diana haughtily pouted her lips and turned away, her whole demeanour showing that my words had hurt her. But her hurt was mixed with a slight smile, and I realised that she wasn't really angry — she was just playing a role, trying to save face.

"All right," I said, trying to steer the conversation back to something constructive. "Let's get back to the main point. Why did those damned creatures come after you? And why were there two of them? Judging by yesterday, a couple of those creatures aren't much of a threat to you.

I narrowed my eyes, trying to analyse what had happened that night. Diana paused for a moment, her gaze shifting to the smooth surface of the lake, as if she were looking for the answer in the reflection.

"I don't know the exact reason. But I suspect it has something to do with my father's personal war," she said quietly and wearily, as if she was tired of repeating the story over and over again. "When I first learned about my nature, I called my dad. The next day, he was already there and took me away. For a year... a whole year, he taught me to control the beast, to accept it and live with it in harmony so that I wouldn't lose myself during the transformation. But at the same time, he was constantly away, fighting an invisible enemy. Sometimes he came back badly wounded, but he never told me the details. He said he didn't want to drag me into this war. He even dreamed that I would be able to live like a normal girl once I learned how to control my shapeshifting.

She paused briefly, trying to find the right words.

"But when I left him, he said to me, 'If you ever find yourself in danger again and can't contact me, run as far away as you can and hide. So he thought my enemies could find me. He wanted to protect me. I've been trying to call him all morning, but my dad won't answer," Diana's voice began to break, sounding desperate. "And now I don't know what to do: stay or run. If I run, they can easily track me by my scent and come here to the camp... it could end in real tragedy.

In desperation, she jumped up and began pacing the small pier, shouting:

"I can't run away! I'm the only one who can stop them! If I leave, they might realise I'm nearby, start searching for me and attack the children! I'll never forgive myself. Maybe if I die in battle, they'll calm down... They'll understand that a sacrifice has been made. And then there'll be no point in attacking the camp and killing innocent people.

Gritting my teeth, I got up too. My heart ached at the sight of her tears and obvious helplessness. The girl, whom life had forced to grow up too soon, now carried a huge burden of guilt and fear on her shoulders.

Without hesitation, I took Diana in my arms and began to gently stroke her head, hoping to calm her down a little. She buried her face in my chest and burst into tears. All her previous threats and bravado crumbled away, leaving only a frightened teenager who didn't know where to run or how to save the innocent. At that moment, I felt how fragile she was beneath her "monster skin."

"Don't worry," I whispered, trying to sound as gentle as possible. "You're not alone. I'll help you. I'm not a weakling, you know. We'll get through this together. You saw for yourself yesterday how fast I can run and what I'm capable of. You ran away from me with your tail between your legs.

The girl moved away and glanced at me, a flash of indignation in her eyes, but her tears had already dried.

"I didn't tuck my tail," she muttered. "It was a tactical retreat."

"Sure," I smiled, shrugging awkwardly. "I'll take your word for it the first time. Are you calm now?"

Diana nodded weakly, wiped her cheeks with her hand, removing the last traces of moisture, and took a deep breath, regaining her composure.

"Okay. So when are they coming back?" I asked in a low voice, glancing warily toward the camp.

"Tonight or tomorrow at the latest. But I think it will happen today. Tonight is a full moon, and a special one at that — a blood moon. It could make them even stronger. I can feel it inside me, my beast is warning me: 'Be careful!' She swallowed, licked her dry lips and turned to me. "They already attacked yesterday, so they won't back down now. Predators never give up their prey if they're sure they can win.

"So, today," I nodded. "Well, then we'll kick their asses."

Diana looked me straight in the eye, and her face showed determination — more mature and confident than you would expect from a sixteen-year-old girl.

"It's a deal!" she said, her voice firm. Now despair had been replaced by composure and quiet fury.

So we decided: no doubts, no running away. Tonight, we would face a battle in which each of us would have to play our part. And looking at this girl, I knew that no matter how afraid she was, she would not back down.

"The deal..."

 ***

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