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clairewritesfanfics · 1 month ago

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Villain Creation System Chapter 2

Pairing/s: Invincible x Reader x Invincible Variants

CHAPTER 1: Don't Mix Red Bull with Coffee Series Masterlist <<read the synopsis and trigger warnings first>>

444 Alternate Universes Ago…

The instant you agreed to sell your soul, or rather, save it, you were teleported away from the site of your death and into a pure white space.

[Scanning Host’s memories…]

[Re-calibrating for comfort…]

There was a ding and the whiteness shifted into a gorgeous lobby with expensive wallpaper and a wooden floor. The place was green with all sorts of hanging and standing plants. One wall was just a giant floor-to-ceiling window pane framed by sheer curtains in your ideal color, behind the glass were trees as far as the eyes can see. In the middle of the room was a singular sofa, the one you always wanted but could never afford in life.

[To minimize damage to the Host’s mental health, the Main System instructed me to shape the Soulscape into your ideal space. I looked into your memories and recreated all the repeating trends you saved on your Pinterest board.]

“... you read my mind?”

[You sound upset. Rest assured, after you agreed to become my Host, we are now intimately intertwined. I have access to the deepest recesses of your mind.]

You did not appreciate the way it said “intimately” and you certainly did not like how casually it treated breaching your privacy.

[If you are scared about my knowing the memories that your kind deems “shameful” or “embarrassing” then do not be afraid; we systems do not care about such unimportant things.]

“Just… stop.” You walked over to the window. You could see a mountain range from this point. It looked like you were in a mountain lodge.

[Ah, I might as well tell you, but we are in a pocket dimension that’s been limited to simulate your ideal space for working and thinking. If you were to leave this area, which you can’t, you will not find trees.]

“I get it.” You put your hand on the glass. “Outside of this room there’s only that white void.”

[Ding. Host is correct. You’re not as dumb as I thought.]

You ignored its unintentional jab and took a seat on the sofa. If you were alive you might have fallen straight to sleep with its welcoming softness, but because you didn’t have a physical form you felt awake, vigorous. You’ve never felt this… lack of fatigue when you were alive.

“Let’s get this over with.”

[You’re lucky, Host, compared to other systems the demands for our contract is easy.]

A holographic display flashed before you to reveal a few animated clips of Invincible.

You knew that the show was about a superhero named “Invincible” and his dad was a piece of crap who ran his face through a train full of civilians, and you did see a couple of short clips online, but that was it. Surface level stuff. The series skyrocketed into mainstream popularity during the pandemic but you didn’t get the chance to join the bandwagon before you died.

You had a lot of questions. Not just about the show or the system, but the whole “Is there a God?” and “Do our choices even matter?” package. But you were in no mood to be insulted again so you decided to keep such questions to yourself.

[For each mission world that you enter, you have but one simple task: break that universe’s Mark Grayson to the point of villainy.]

The screen paused and zoomed in on a bloodied Invincible, his right eye was swollen and his hero suit was torn.

The system then played a clapping noise. [Easy, no? Other systems usually have their contractors move into the body of pre-existing characters so those people need to maintain their character settings within 80% or risk getting too OOC and hurting the fabric of reality.]

“Wait a minute, what are the parameters for villainy?” You threw an accusing finger at the screen, not at Mark but at the system. “The task is too vague, how will I know that he is villainous enough for me to move on to the next world? Morality is relative.”

[Host is sharp. Are you perhaps afraid that we’re tricking you?]

Your eyebrow twitched.

The screen showed what appeared to be a health bar, but instead of red or green, it was black. Above it was the word “DARKENING.”

[This bar measures what we consider the corruption of one’s soul. No tricks or whatever.]

“How do I know what counts as corruption?”

[Unfortunately, detailing what constitutes as “corruption” itself is far beyond my capabilities, but luckily for you, you don’t need to know that. Just understand that as long as the bar reaches 100% the mission will be considered successful.]

“Fine,” you capitulated. “Do I get a cheat or a skill? A lot of isekai mangas and webnovels have that.”

[This is not fiction, Host.]

It paused.

[But yes, you do have access to cheat items.]

There was a ding and the screen showed you a digital store with a search bar and a shopping cart.

[You don’t have any currency at the moment, but a successful mission will give you reward points that you can spend.]

You browsed the products: “The Little Mermaid’s Voice in a Bottle. One sip and you can make any man, woman, or sea creature do your bidding!” for 25000 points.

“White Moonlight, Untainted. Look ethereal even as you wither away from a terminal illness and become a beautiful memory that haunts his dreams with this perfume!” for 22000 points.

“It’s Alive! Imbue sentience to anything, from a churro to a stuffed toy with this ray gun! (disclaimer: the system is not responsible for any vengeful, murderous object that you cursed with thought)” for 50000.

Every product felt like one sick joke after another.

“Is the amount of reward points constant for every mission?”

[No, your reward points will be proportional to your grade, which will be proportional to the difficulty of the mission world.]

You got it. Just because they were all Mark Grayson didn’t guarantee that they were the same. Not just them, the settings could be unlike your Earth but dystopian, the “stories” may not even take place on Earth.

“Does using system cheats affect my grade? How am I graded? And how many worlds before I can get my life back?”

[To answer the Host: no, using cheats is irrelevant so long as you do your job successfully.]

[As for the grading criteria, it all depends on the Host’s performance in each world. Please direct your attention to the screen.] The light monitor displayed the criteria.

[The grades you can achieve by doing your mission are listed from lowest to highest: C, B, A and S. You must achieve a hundred S-graded missions in order to return to your original world, or the equivalent of a hundred S grades, like a thousand A’s.]

“But you just said I only have one task, to darken Mark Grayson, with zero other requirements, shouldn’t I be on a pass or fail grading system?”

[Spoken like a true nerd–]

You wondered if it was possible to physically choke this thing.

[Ahem.]

[According to the Main System, a pass or fail grading scheme is too harsh.]

“Then what is the breakdown for my grades? What is the percentage–”

[Geez. I was bred for helping lost souls but you are loquacious for someone who just died.]

“Sorry, am I annoying you?” You crossed your arms. “My life is on the line here.”

The system sighed, actually sighed. You didn’t think you would ever be on the receiving end of a sigh from a night-omniscient, maybe-divine, maybe-demonic artificial intelligence.

[Don’t sweat the small stuff, Host.]

You swallowed the lump of irritation in your throat and inquired, “Do I get access to the plots of these worlds?”

[That’s a negative. Depending on the world, we may be able to provide a brief overview, but we can’t provide you minute details or predict the future.]

“But these universes aren’t even real, right? Surely–”

[Host, with each work of fiction, there will be fanfiction and fan arts made. For every piece of fan content that is created, a branch of the universe is created, and from each branch blooms a new world. Think of a copy of a copy of a copy, ad infinitum, some so close to each other that they’re almost impossible to tell apart, others so fantastically different from the original that you can tell immediately, but even those that differ from the original are bound to have produced branches of their own. Sorting these parallel dimensions would be too troublesome.]

You massaged your temples. “Okay, I think I understand.” Basically, knowing the future is useless because you wouldn’t know that it is the future, but a future.

“But why do you want to turn these Mark Graysons into villains? Shouldn’t they be evil already?”

[A lot of these Marks were created simultaneously by fans, some with care, some without thought about how they became the way that they are. These Marks had to come from somewhere. But they were created by humans, who are finite creatures, so the laws established within these realities are often arbitrary. The World Consciousness, that is, the force that keeps each alternative universe from collapsing, will compensate for the missing puzzle pieces. But its work is not without flaws. It’s a machine working on a set of preprogrammed commands, so it is bound to have missed something or encounter a situation that was not included in its original instructions, resulting in imperfect solutions. Your world does not have this problem, because it was created by an infinite, all-knowing being.]

“That… sounds like a lot of work.”

[It is.]

“So why bother?”

The system replied cheerfully: [Because it is our job.]

You groaned inwardly. Guess this was your life now.

“Okay.” You exhaled, patting your cheeks. “Okay, I can do this.”

[Does Host have any further questions?]

“Shouldn’t I at least know the main timeline’s plot?”

[Ding. Request denied.]

“What?!”

[Host, I told you, a lot of the parallel universes are eerily similar to each other, and these universes are almost exact replicas of the main one. There is a reason why humans are not given the ability to see the future. If you could then the fear of making the wrong choice can cripple you to the point of uselessness.]

“So you want me to go in blind? In a world of supers and villains that cut through normies like they’re veggies?”

[It is the will of the Main System. But I did receive authorization to provide minor details should they help.]

“...”

[...]

“Fine.”

[Does Host have any further questions?]

“None at the moment.”

[Ding. Then prepare for transmigration. Be not afraid for this system shall accompany you every step of the way.]

“Oh, goodie.”

[Communicating with World Consciousness…]

[Gestating…Creating Host’s backstory…]

[Synchronizing soul with puppet…]

[Initiating transfer ... 1%, 43% ... ]

You were lulled to unconsciousness. Your soul ebbed into the stream of time and space. For a while you felt… almost free. Weightless as you were carried by the Main System through various dimensions.

[... 98%, 99% ... Transfer complete.]

[Ding. Invincible Alternative Universe No. 1 welcomes you. World Difficulty: Tutorial Level.]

[Happy darkening, Host!]

When you came to, the feeling of weightlessness was gone, replaced by the familiar ache in your back and shoulders and heaviness under your eyes. You observed the environment. You were in a university. Even without the system providing you details, the giant, imposing buildings and wandering undead young adults were a dead give away.

You lifted your hands. They were exactly like the ones your old body–your real body–had. The fingernails cut too short, the calloused pads, the climbing veins too visible under the thin skin.

You touched your face. Same nose. Same contours.

“I’m actually here,” you muttered, still processing. It wasn’t just because you were in a new reality, it was because of the unfamiliar memories–

While you were being transferred to this body, memories of your life here poured into your mind seamlessly.

You were Mark Grayson’s next door neighbor and childhood friend, but when you turned twelve your family had to move countries. But now you were back in town and starting college.

It was scary how they fit so well into your head.

[Don’t worry, Host, in a way, you have achieved enlightenment. You are aware of the so-called fourth wall. You don’t have to fear losing yourself to these false memories.]

You stared at your hand, opening and closing it. “Let’s hope so.”

You turned your attention to your surroundings. “What now?”

[For now, may I suggest you start walking to class? You don’t want to be late.]

***

The good news was that the you of this universe was also pre-med. Even better news was that you had a philosophy elective, which wasn’t an option when you were in college.

Your professor was a stocky built middle-aged man who wore a tweed sweater and thick black spectacles.

He stood behind a podium and spoke in that unique way only intellectuals seemed to speak. For a fictional character, he was an excellent lecturer. You didn’t take notes. You couldn’t, you were too busy debating with him.

“You’re saying that you would choose to sacrifice five people for one person?” He asked.

“No, I’m saying that the choice is not that easy–”

“Of course not, that’s the entire dilemma.” The whole class laughed.

You didn’t back down. “What I mean is that we’re so intent on choosing between the needs of the many and that of the few that are presently in front of us, that we forget that the trolley problem was created to demonstrate that a utilitarian view is not applicable to mortals.”

“Explain.”

“Well, we are given the options with so little information. We are forced to make life or death decisions under the assumption that we know everything. What if the one person we decided to sacrifice was a super genius who could cure cancer? What if the five people we decided to save were terrorists or robbers or murderers? The problem shows that we cannot make a decision based purely on the outcome because as humans, we are incapable of knowing everything.”

The professor was grinning. “Excellent point.”

The bell rang.

He sighed. “Sadly, that’s it for today’s lectures. I hope the next class will have another enthusiastic debate, and not just with one person. I already uploaded the reading materials for the next session. Please do not neglect them.”

You packed your untouched notebook and unused pen.

“You still use actual paper for taking notes?”

That voice. No way–

[The target, Mark Grayson, is here.]

Your memories of him were foggy, as are most childhood memories.

He was taller than you remembered. His limbs were less lanky now, too. His shoulders were broad and his arms bulged against his quarter sleeves.

Gone was the graceless boy who used to cry when he tripped playing tag.

Standing before you now was a young man who exuded confidence.

[Ding. Affection: 5%. Darkening: 3%.]

[Ding. Affection: 5.1%. Darkening: 3%.]

You were so confused, until he chuckled and you realized that you’ve been staring, way more than what was socially acceptable.

Willing your attention back to your things, you explained, “Writing makes it easier, but I digitize my notes at home.”

[Affection: 5.2%. Darkening: 3%.]

“That so…” He purred, reaching over to play with the hamburger keychain hanging from your bag. “I’ve never seen anyone talk that passionately with Professor Harper. Did you just start attending classes?”

“Um. No?” You started the semester at the same time as everyone else.

“That’s weird, cause there’s no way I wouldn’t have noticed a pretty thing like you.”

“...are you hitting on me?”

His smile hardened, surprised, then he snorted. Then he laughed. “Wow, you’re cute.”

[Affection: 5.3%. Darkening: 3%.]

Hold on.

“Wait. You don’t remember me, do you?”

This time his grin left his face completely. “Ah, crap. Did we already–”

“Mark, it’s me.”

“...”

Total blank.

He tilted his head, thinking. Then he snapped his fingers. “Amber’s party?”

Silence.

“No? Was it at the freshman orientation? Was it prom? Jesus, that was so long ago–I mean, uh…”

[Affection: 5%. Darkening: 3%.]

You shouldn’t feel offended, after all, it’s not like he was your friend, and yet you could not stop the frustration that swarmed you.

You pressed a finger to his chest and told him your name.

For a second, you thought that jogged his memory, but no, he simply raised his palms in the air in surrender. “Sorry, I don’t usually remember a lot of my flings. Nothing personal, I swear.”

Your logic quickly overrode your petty feelings and you pulled back. “Right. Nevermind.”

[Affection: 4.9%. Darkening: 3%.]

Jerk.

[Host, an orifice he may be, he is still your ticket to a happy life.]

“You don’t have to remind me,” you huffed.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing.” You grabbed the straps of your bag and breathed. You then glanced back at him and asked, “Wanna grab an early lunch?”

Mark fell quiet. So did the system.

Through your mind, you directly communicated with the system, Did I do something wrong?

[You have the eyes of a dead fish.]

It stopped.

Then it added: [And you sounded like someone who crossed paths with an acquaintance and politely asked them how was their day even though you don’t care but you had to because they definitely saw you and it would be weird to just walk away.]

Well. Crap.

As you scrambled for a backup plan, Mark laughed again.

[Affection: 5.5%. Darkening: 3%.]

“Sure, I could eat.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. I know a good burger place.”

“Just so you know, I’m not paying.”

He chuckled.

The restaurant was called Burger Mart, and he wasn’t joking when he said the place served good burgers–actually, that adjective undermines how amazing they are.

The bun was soft and fluffy. There was no trace of the usual cheap American cheese that felt like plastic on your tongue but actual, melt-in-your mouth cheese. The lettuce was crispy and the tomato super tangy. And the meat patty? Thick and juicy and perfectly seasoned.

Mark watched, half-horrified, half-impressed, as you chomped down your second ultra deluxe cheeseburger. He was barely done with his. He wasn’t trying to be judgmental, but the burger was comically huge. He didn’t expect you to finish half, let alone order another round.

“You sure like burgers…”

You dipped a fry in your sundae and then put it in the burger. “I always celebrate finishing an exam with lots of carbs.”

“Exams?”

Oh.

You cleared your throat. “I mean, a successful debate.”

“You were really cool back there.”

“You don’t have to make fun of me.”

“I mean it though.”

You snuck a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye. For the first time since you two interacted, he looked serious.

“Eh.” It was a basic thing to discuss in a first year philosophy class, nothing worthy of compliments. That being said, you enjoyed when the professor praised you. Who doesn’t like praise?

“You still didn’t make it clear whether you would choose one person or five people, though.”

Your jaws worked overtime as you tried to argue.

He interrupted you, “Don’t tell me that ‘that’s not the point.’”

He then leaned on his elbows. “No omniscience, no extra information. If you were put in a scenario where you have to choose between one person’s life or five other lives, I wanna know which would you choose?”

You slowed your chewing and tilted your head.

You then answered, “I would choose the option that lets me save everyone.”

He snorted. “There is no third option.”

“Then I’ll make one.”

His eyes widened, then he grinned sardonically and reclined into the vinyl cushion. “That’s optimistic.”

You wish.

“Nah. It’s more like…” You didn’t want that blood on your hands and be blamed. “I’m a coward who hates confrontation.”

He glanced at the window, then his chin dipped with a chuckle.

[Affection: 7%. Darkening: 3%.]

You didn’t know what happened. But you were eating a burger and no one has attacked you so you were going to consider this a win.

After you finished the last of your fries, Mark offered to walk you to your dorm, which was sweet, you had to admit. However, his smart watch beeped.

His face scrunched up with irritation.

You saved him the trouble of coming up with a lie. “That looks important.” You then told him you’d be fine on your own and watched as he reluctantly left you alone in front of Burger Mart.

“Now that he’s gone, mind telling me what that affection meter is all about?”

[It’s exactly what you think it is. It measures the target’s affection for you, in this case, it’s specific to romantic affection.]

“You said there were no other requirements.”

[This is not a requirement, more like a … necessity, to ensure both your survival here and to improve your ability to increase his darkness.]

You stared at the two bars. One was pink, the other was black.

[Throughout history and fiction, humans have become victims and instigators for the name of love. And Mark Grayson may be a superman who can fly and survive the vacuum of space and punch through cement, but he is just a man.]

You hate to say it, but you understand.

author's note: gee, i wonder which mark is this?

@weponxwrites

CHAPTER 3: When In Doubt, Do Your Research Series Masterlist

MASTERLIST | request rules | ask box

#reader #y/n #invincible #imagines #mark grayson #angst #mark grayson x reader #invincible x reader #isekai #invincible x y/n #quick transmigration #world hopping #civilian reader #sort of #invincible variants #multi chapter #system #system cheats

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