Broken(DC)

I used to think that as teenagers grew up, they'd become better wiser, more reasonable. But from my own experience, I realized it's quite the opposite they only got worse. The bullying intensified significantly. I became a complete outcast, despised by everyone. Every day felt like torture.

I would often recall the days when I was full of energy and courage, unafraid of anything because I believed I could handle it all. Now, I was a pale shadow of my former self crippled, broken, and humiliated.

Tripping me in the hallway became the mildest joke at my expense. I couldn't keep my balance on my bad leg and would often fall. They would also take my cane, laughing as I hopped on one foot trying to get it back. Anger at life began to boil within me, and I started looking for a way to regain my strength, to reclaim the skills and abilities I once had.

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't become a professional knife-thrower again. The knives still missed their targets, often injuring me instead. Cooking became a disaster; everything I made was tasteless and hideous. I had almost no hobbies left because whatever I started, it all turned out horribly.

The most bitter blow for me was my sister's betrayal. The opinions of others influenced her too much. Day by day, she distanced herself from me, trying to maintain her social connections. I couldn't understand why she had changed so much, but as they say, even the strongest bonds can fray over time. Ours did too.

I couldn't blame her. There was conflict in her eyes she still loved me, but being around me was becoming increasingly difficult. At school, the constant bullying wore her down. At first, she defended me, but the more she suffered alongside me, the harder it became for her. At home, she had her own interests that I couldn't support due to my helplessness. Finally, I asked her to stop associating with me at school, so my problems wouldn't affect her.

The main reason people found me strange, though, was the visions. They came out of nowhere. Short but vivid flashes. I'd experience the full spectrum of emotions and often couldn't remain calm. Imagine someone sitting at a desk suddenly screaming and rambling nonsense that was me.

Visits to the doctor became routine, but they would just shrug and say I was perfectly healthy. They'd prescribe sedatives, blaming the visions on "magnetic storms" absurd, but they couldn't offer anything else. The pills helped somewhat, dimming the intensity of the visions, but they still appeared here and there.

Finally, high school the nightmare that it was ended. I could breathe a sigh of relief and leave that dreadful place behind. I graduated with slightly above-average grades, enough to apply to medical college. I'd already submitted my application and was waiting for the results. I'd received a notification saying the answer would come today, so I sat in the kitchen, staring out the window at the passing pedestrians, waiting for the mail truck to arrive.

The belief that studying the human body might hold the key to regaining my abilities kept me going. Yes, I lived peacefully now no threats to my life, no excitement but it wasn't truly living. It was just an attempt to exist.

After another fifteen minutes of waiting, the mail truck finally appeared on our street. It stopped at the house next door, delivering letters and slipping them into mailboxes. My patience was wearing thin, and I couldn't sit still any longer. The moment it pulled up to our house, I stepped out onto the porch. Once the driver had deposited all the letters into our mailbox, I quickly grabbed them and headed back inside. Placing them on the side table, I started searching for the envelope I was waiting for. There it was from Melvin Green Medical College.

Tearing it open, I skipped the greetings and went straight to the point:

"We have reviewed your results..." I skimmed further until I found it 

"Based on the committee's decision, we are pleased to offer you admission to the first year of our program."

"Yes! Finally, some good news!" I shouted, raising my hands in triumph. My cane, leaning precariously against the table, clattered to the floor, and in my excitement, so did I, unable to steady myself.

Even sprawled on the ground, I couldn't stop smiling. Soon, everything would change. Just a little longer.

"Hey, what are you doing down there?" came Alice's voice. Looking up, I saw my sister standing on the staircase. She was dressed for going out, clad in black from head to toe, her nose pierced. I disliked her new style clearly the influence of her new friends.

"I got in!" I said excitedly.

"Alright," she shrugged, emotionless, stepping over me to open the door. "Tell Mom I'll be back late."

My mood instantly deflated. She didn't even seem happy for me, as if I wasn't her brother anymore, the one she'd grown up with. Picking myself up from the floor and grabbing my cane, I made my way to my room.

Despite the good news, I couldn't shake the disappointment. Trying to distract myself, I went over the letter in more detail. I was assigned to the dormitory starting August 28th. The letter included a list of items to bring, and that was it.

So, only a month remained until I left. Just a short time before a new chapter in my life would begin. College where the foundation of one's future is built. Either you realize you're on the wrong path or you decide to stay on it, no matter what.

I had already read every scientific article I could find on genetic engineering and absorbed everything available. The field was booming with studies on enhancing the human body. So far, most findings were unimpressive: marginal improvements to strength, reaction time, and endurance. These weren't drastic changes, just increases by a few dozen percent. For example, if you could lift 100 kilograms and gained a 40% boost, it wasn't revolutionary.

I remembered the strength I had in those earlier years. Back then, I was physically equal to adults. Now, I was weaker than I had been as a child a bitter irony that stung every time I thought about it.

The main issue with such advancements lies in their side effects. You pay a steep price with your health to enhance your natural potential. Put simply, you won't live past forty. Although these are just theories practical studies aren't publicly available it's likely that such research is being conducted somewhere, but it doesn't reach the public eye.

What interested me wasn't research into enhancing physical strength but rather intelligence. Only through intellect could I move forward. The potential of a sharp mind so many theories and opinions surround it. Some argue that intelligence is innate and predetermined at birth, but life has proven many times that the mind can be unpredictable.

By all measures, one person might seem smarter than another, but then experience comes into play.

Take, for example, someone with only basic knowledge of mathematics who, through sheer practice, surpasses a competitor in building models. This demonstrates the importance of application: high intelligence alone is useless without the ability to harness it. Only the combination of high intellect and the skill to channel it toward achieving goals applying it effectively to solve problems can make someone truly intelligent.

Touching my head, I realized I was missing one crucial element, as if a part of me had been torn away. Every time I felt close to solving a problem, I would hit a wall, as though something or someone was stopping me from moving forward. It felt like chains were holding me back, preventing me from breaking free. This sensation haunted me constantly. Whatever I did, something was always pulling me down. I tried to break the chains, to escape the shackles, but they were too strong.

Now I understood one thing: a risk factor was necessary. The human body can surpass its limits for a fleeting moment when forced by external circumstances. Evolution has equipped us with an extraordinary tool the ability to adapt to our environment. But beyond that, there's a trigger: the body can exceed its boundaries through adrenaline.

In massive quantities, adrenaline floods the bloodstream and pushes the body to its limits, allowing it to survive. Under its influence, muscles can lift weights many times heavier than usual. Yes, it might damage bones, ligaments, and muscles, but it's possible.

This meant I needed a life-threatening situation any kind of danger. Only when standing on the edge of life and death could I find the strength to break free from this loop. That's what I thought, but I lacked the courage or any concrete ideas on how to do it without harming myself.

For now, I could only hope to gain more knowledge about the human body in college. With that knowledge, ideas might come. Implementing those ideas, however, would require money, and I had been searching for a way to gather the necessary funds for a long time. That's when I stumbled upon the darker corners of the internet.

There, I found everything imaginable and, of course, work. Various kinds, often illegal. But I chose the least harmful of the evils. I started registering wallets in other countries, where the laws were more lenient. My task was to transfer small amounts of money from one currency to another for people who needed it. I was paid a small commission, just 2%.

It wasn't much, but it was enough to get by. I had a pretty good idea of where the money came from definitely not popcorn sales but I convinced myself it wasn't anything serious. After all, I was just moving money around.

From the electronic wallets, I transferred money to my website. It was a platform for freelancers looking for work. Clients posted tasks, and people completed them for a reward. The site was completely free to use. By transferring money to my site, I created a job posting, set a price, and, of course, I was the only one doing the work. That's how I earned my "legitimate" income. Verifying the client was impossible since they "lived" in Cyprus and generously paid for the work. All that was left was to pay taxes, and technically, I wasn't breaking any laws, leaving my money clean.

This setup allowed me to pursue what I wanted. Technically, yes, I was enabling people to break the law by facilitating these schemes, but without this money, I couldn't accomplish anything. And this was the fastest way to accumulate large amounts of funds. I'd seen the prices for medical equipment and the cost of knowledge in this field. There was no other way for me to secure that kind of money.

Once I finished brooding, I got to work and logged onto the dark web.

*************************

Time flew by quickly, and the month passed in the blink of an eye. Now I was riding in a car toward my dormitory. Elizabeth had offered to drive me. Over this time, she had truly become a businesswoman, dedicating all her time to her career. I rarely saw her at home, as she was always busy, with not a moment to spare. She had recently become the deputy director of her company, and her salary had increased significantly.

I was happy for her, though I wished she wouldn't overwork herself so much. Time moved on, and she still hadn't found anyone, remaining alone. She had become like a true mother figure to me, and I wanted only the best for her.

The car stopped in front of a five-story building the dormitory for the medical college. From what I understood, my floor was the fifth, reserved for male students, while the other floors were for female students. Indeed, this profession has long been dominated by women. However, if you look at the list of the best surgeons in our state, you'd see only one woman's name; the rest were men.

"We're here," Elizabeth said as she stepped out of the car.

I got out as well, leaning on my cane, and walked to the open trunk, where Elizabeth was already unloading my bags. I strapped a backpack on my shoulders and picked up a small suitcase with my left hand.

"Try not to go to parties at first," Elizabeth advised. "There'll be lots of young people without adult supervision. Freedom tends to go to teenagers' heads, and they do all kinds of reckless things. Believe me, I've been through it myself."

"Hard to imagine me making it to one," I said, nodding toward my leg.

"Oh, stop. You're a handsome young man and pretty smart too. Any crowd would be happy to have you," Elizabeth replied.

By this point, we had entered the building, which was teeming with people carrying their belongings. It was move-in day, and the chaos was intense.

After navigating through the crowd, we finally reached the fifth floor and found the right door. We stepped into a small room designed for two people. It had two beds, two desks, and one shared wardrobe. The bathroom was communal for the entire floor.

"Not bad at all, and nothing's broken," Elizabeth noted as she placed the bags on one of the beds.

"Yeah," I replied simply, surveying the place that would be my home for the next few years. While I could have rented a private room, I hadn't done so yet. Starting in my second year, I'd probably take that step.

"Alright, settle in here. I'll bring the computer closer to the start of the semester," Elizabeth said. She walked over to me, gave me a tight hug, and patted my head. "Take care, soldier."

"Bye, Mom," I replied. After kissing me on the cheek one last time, she left the room. Even though I was beyond the age for such tenderness, I was still glad to have someone like Elizabeth in my life, even though she wasn't my biological mother.

As I started unpacking my things, I noticed that my roommate hadn't arrived yet. Opening the wardrobe, I began to put my clothes away. Well, it was time to start a new chapter in my life.

*****************

Arkham, Gotham City

On the island housing the psychiatric hospital, a siren wailed, signaling an escape. Dozens of guards, armed with rifles, were running with dogs, trying to track down the fugitive. By that time, the criminal had already managed to reach another part of the island, where a boat was waiting for him. He had succeeded in escaping and avoided rotting away for eternity.

The police had been put on alert and were rushing to the hospital to investigate the escape. Commissioner James Gordon, woken in the middle of the night, was heading to Arkham. Although he had taken control of the police and began cleaning it of corrupt officers, there was still much more to be done. It seemed that life constantly threw him new problems, such as the continuous escapes from Arkham. He could see that the system was failing more and more each time, criminals no longer feared it, and even if they were caught, they didn't worry because more and more ways to escape were becoming available.

He had long disliked the head of the hospital, Hugo Strange, but had never managed to remove him from his position. He had heard many rumors that Strange went far beyond mere treatment, and the statistics on recovered patients spoke for themselves there were none.

"God, I'm not sure this city can be fixed. I don't have the strength," Gordon said. He loved Gotham and wanted to fix it, but those who shared his views were too few. The police captain, father, and husband, he had begun to burn out, no longer seeing hope for change.

The city needed a hero, a beacon of hope to lead everyone. For now, however, the city was ruled by the mafia, hiding in the shadows, and soon even in the light. Signs with Oswald Cobblepot's name were now everywhere. Though he hadn't been elected the first time, things were different now.