I woke up in my bed to the sound of my alarm clock, looking at the digital clock, I saw that it was 5:30 AM.
So, I sat on my bed and fumbled around in the dark before finding my glasses case, and putting them on. A dull ache in my head then made itself known, causing me to slowly get up and go to the bathroom.
Turning on the light, I quickly shambled over to the sink where I started washing my face, after I was done… I looked into the mirror and saw myself. Dark curly hair that hung below my shoulders, large and tired brown eyes under a pair of square-rimmed glasses, a thin and pale face with a large mouth, and a large scar over the side of my head.
It was mostly gone, somewhat scabbed but no longer bleeding, but from what the doctors told me? It wouldn't ever fully heal, instead it would stay there… no matter how faint, it would serve as a reminder of what had happened a couple of days ago…
It only took me a couple of days to get out of the hospital, once they saw that I was mostly fine to walk around. Dad wasn't able to hang around for much longer though, leaving the next day to do some negotiations for the Dockworkers Association.
Not that I blamed him, ever since mom's death he'd been a wreck, focusing more on his job than his family… at least it kept food on our plates and the bills paid.
Even when I was able to go home, the car ride back was… silent, and awkward. Neither of us knew what to say to the other.
When we got back, he made his way into the kitchen and I went into my room, looking around it felt somewhat unfamiliar. But that was probably because I hadn't been in it for the past couple of days.
At least it looked better than the plain white walls and bright lights that my hospital room consisted of.
I finished washing my face, and went back into my bedroom, turning the light on as I did so.
Slowly getting on my bed, I leaned slightly into the firm mattress, as I looked at my hands. The pain in my skull had dulled a bit at the time, especially with the help of the medicine that the hospital prescribed me… but the itchiness in my arms had just gotten worse.
But after I tried to talk to one of the nurses about it, they took some tests and found nothing out of the normal.
Even now though, I had the urge to scratch the itch, even though nothing was there…
After a few moments, I decided 'fuck it', and started scratching and scratching and scratching until my arm went red from the friction.
No matter what I did though, it wouldn't stop itching… it was like there was a swarm of insects within my arms trying to crawl their way out!
Eventually, I just had enough and launched myself into the pillow, screaming into it out of sheer irritation. The sound was thankfully muffled, as it was still pretty early in the morning and I didn't want to accidentally wake Dad up.
"Just… stop… itching" I growled out, as even with my face smushed into the pillow, I clawed at my arms, scratching with all of my might until I felt something… tear.
But instead of pain and blood, instead I felt… relief, and my fingers pushed into something that felt like cool metal, instead of the flesh and blood that I was expecting.
Slowly but surely removing my head from the pillow, I looked down at my arm in shock, finding something absolutely bizarre…
Underneath the torn flesh in my arm, instead of a torrent of blood… there was a strange blue metal. It didn't look like bone, no… it looked more like a second more metallic layer of flesh.
Against my better judgment, as I was looking at this strange metal underneath my flesh… I started to pick at the surrounding pulled flesh, slowly but surely removing it.
It was surprisingly easy to do so, as if I was taking the sleeve off of something else. And within a few moments, the flesh that made up my left arm was gone, now on the floor in a neat little pile… and what remained, was a dark blue metallic arm.
"Am I… a cyborg?" I asked silently, as I looked at the robot-like arm, it looked just like my old one, just made out of metal and… blue.
Did this mean that my dad was some sort of Tinker? Was I… was I even real? Were my memories real? Was mom real?
No, no that's not how this works, right? If I was a robot made to think I was human, I wouldn't be able to think about not being human. It'd be against my code or something… right?
Right, yeah… that makes sense. And it's not like Dad has enough time to be a Tinker or even a Cape in general with the Dockworker's Association.
"Then does that mean that I have powers?" I asked myself with a small amount of childish giddiness that The Trio hadn't managed to beat out of me surging forth in my mind.
But that came all crashing down when I considered just what sort of use having… metal limbs would even have as a Hero.
Maybe I'd have a small Brute Rating, but that's not all that impressive. At least not compared to Armsmaster or Lung.
"...Is there anything else that I can do?" I asked, and as if my power was able to hear me, something happened.
My left arm quickly shifted, changing its form into a… strange cannon-like apparatus. It didn't affect my balance or anything, but it looked fairly threatening
"Whoa…" I muttered to myself, as I looked at the cannon that my arm had transformed into… it seemed like it'd be able to do a decent amount of damage. For a moment? I was tempted to fire it.
But I quickly stopped myself, partly because it was still early and… well, I was indoors, with a Blaster Power that I had no idea the strength of.
So, I tried to urge the… Arm Cannon to go away, and thankfully? It did, quickly transforming back into my blue robotic arm.
"How am I going to hide this, though?" I said to myself, as I looked at the rather conspicuous arm… before my eyes widened as I watched my flesh regrow over it, enveloping the arm all over again.
…And damn it, now I was itchy again.
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Welcome, one and all to MegaTaylor a Worm fanfic where Taylor Hebert Triggers with the powers of Mega Man.
This is directly inspired by SeerKing's My Hero Academia: Mega Izuku on FFN. He's given me permission to use his general idea.