Observations, Introspective or Not

He rubbed his chin, absentmindedly pleased by how eye-catching the motion was now.

The outcomes of those questions could range from a facet of the power that he could work around to a straight up erasure of the possibility of becoming the god-emperor of mankind, which while it was something he wouldn't want to do anyways because the sheer amount of attention and responsibility that would be put upon him would be crushing, it limited his choices more. But that also depended on how large of changes the power could manufacture.

He snapped his fingers again, and then he noted in his head that his arm did not combust into blue flames that could rip holes in space that he could use to warp around. Another snap, and he felt no difference, and he didn't actively teleport either by imagining himself closer to his mirror.

The power was limited then. Shit, he couldn't become a legitimate superhero then, or a villain, by giving himself superpowers, or at the least straight up blatantly obvious physics defying abilities. He snapped again and his left arm up to his shoulder drooped lower, the sleeve loosening as a pinkish-red tentacle flopped out of the sleeve.

He froze, his eyes widening.

Another snap and it was back to its marble sculpted self, the sleeve back to being skin-tight as well and thankfully not ripped. He let out the breath he didn't realize he had held and bent over, the beating of his heart grounding him. Shit, he freaked himself out for a moment from the sheer amount of sensations that he felt from the tentacle arm.

He never realized until now how different the nervous system of an octopus or squid could've been. He felt so much, familiar and completely alien as well, completely bowling him over. He raised a hand and wiped the bit of drool that came out, and stared at his left hand. He clenched it, spread it out, and accepted that his arm was back.

He imagined himself as more rational, calm, as if he were a computer plopped into a gundam made of flesh and bone. For a moment he was reminded of Attack on Titan before an idea came to mind. Overlord. The lore of that anime's real life world and how VR evolved was the Neural Nano-Interface, where with certain machines people could interface with their brain and mind, right?

Wait, weren't they not able to smell or taste stuff? Looks like he'd just have to take inspiration then because he liked the idea of being able to control himself as if he was on PC too much.

A snap later, and then he lost all sensation except sight as he stared at the Windows 10 interface. He really didn't think that through. At the least though he had the foresight to include in the changing snap that the operating system was extremely intuitive as he gathered a bit of will and intent and opened up a window.

He opened his eyes again, staring at the ceiling as he took in the fact that his body had fallen over limply. The side of his head and shoulder hurt the most. He grinned at the amount of control he realized he had over himself now whilst comparing the experiences of moving his body. Beforehand, everything was just muscle-memory that was molded to his behavior, but now he was aware of himself and as he raised a hand to snap he relished in the sheer amount of precision he had and how natural it felt.

It was as if he was aware he was plugged into the most realistic VR system, and had complete control over the action inputs by interfacing his brain. It was just awesome.

A snap and his head and shoulder felt better as he should be tougher now.

He hummed as he sat up, effortlessly and actually gracefully for once with the precision control he had now. Getting up, he checked his clothing and grit his teeth as the slight tearing at the seams he could see in his sweater and pants. He could still wear them, but it was starting to get more annoying. He looked in the mirror to give himself one more look-over before snorting.

He walked to his bed, grabbing his house-key, wallet, and phone. He'd have to hold his stuff in his hands, because his pockets were practically non-existent now.

I might become a narcissist if I keep thinking about how absolutely handsome I am now. But damnit, I would be so fucking jealous of myself.

He walked over to his door and narrowed his eyes at the few pairs of footwear he had. His feet were of course larger, and when he pressed his foot onto the top of his shoe with his toes touching the ends of them, his heels fell a couple inches off the back. The same for his slippers, but he nodded and then crouched down to slowly slide his feet under the now stretched out straps of his sliders.

He stood up and grabbed the handle of his door, his hand completely engulfing it. He stared at the metal sheen he could see between the gap of his hand and the door itself. He slowly began to tighten his grip, and tighten, and tighten it. His skin paled, and his forearm flexed. He could see the percentage of power he was using now.

30%, nothing. 40%, nothing. 50%, he felt his fingers get closer. 60%, he bent over a bit, getting his ear closer to the handle. 65%, he could hear a low wailing. 70%, he let go to see the handle somewhat warped into the shape of his hand's grasp.

He stared silently, and then grinned. While he'd heard that the toning and size of muscles didn't necessarily mean that one was freakishly strong in terms of explosivity and being able to strike things, he'd be willing to be a strongman with almost or maybe just completely freakish strength. After all, he'd never heard of someone able to squeeze metal so hard it warped.

Thankfully he was still able to open his door, absentmindedly staring at how low the top of the doorway was now as it was up to his neck, swinging it inwards only to freeze at the sight of his father just making it to his door.

"You alright? I was in the kitchen and heard something fall and hit the floor up here." John stared at his dad who casually craned his neck up to meet his eyes. In a single moment two sliders appeared and he dragged one of them all the way down. For a few seconds, then 10 seconds, then 30 seconds, they just stared at each other, both completely frozen in place.

Mentally he smiled as he was unable to physically.

Alright so he was able to slow down the rate at which he perceived time, as well as his reflex/reaction time judging from the other slider present. That was cool.

But now this.

Why wasn't his dad phased. How was he able to be so casual about a giant of a man opening the door instead of his son? Did the power make it so he didn't notice? He raised the slider after deciding to just act natural, and he began to see the minute motions as time began to return to normal. Finally, he saw his dad raise a hand and scratch his neck.

"Yeah, I'm good. I just tripped." John muttered like normal, and like normal his dad grabbed him by the shoulders. Or at the least tried to, only able to comfortably get John's elbows now. Something that only further cemented his new reality. He began to rub up and down and patting, trying to be comforting like the overprotective father he was.

"You sure? You can tell me if you're just trying to be tough. I'm your dad, y'know, gotta keep you safe and well and most of all, happy." John's dad said with a raised eyebrow. John softly smiled, relieved that the power somehow made the change unnoticeable despite and he didn't have to worry his dad. He shook his head.

"Nah, I'm good. I was able to brace myself." He resisted the urge to laugh at the lie. He probably would've been concussed or something from how much his head had hurt before he wished it off.

"If you're sure. Anyways, I already put away the groceries. I got you McDonald's too, but if you want you can just have it later." He turned around and began to walk off to his office.

John's soft smile tightened a bit. While his dad was overprotective, or justifiably protective, he never was a super expressive person and couple that with the fact his dad worked hard from home to accommodate John's lifelong issues that led to him being a shut-in and to protect him. John always wished he was able to provide even just a bit for his dad.

So it was definitely a shitty thing to cough raise his hand and snap his fingers.

"Huh? What? You need something?" John's dad turned around as he reached the top of the staircase, beginning to step down probably to get to his office.

"Nah, I just remembered something." John cursed in his head at the result while making up an excuse. He had always been quick on his feet when it came to making up believable lies, and coupled with his new ability to slow down his perception of time or maybe it was speed up his processing speed, there wasn't even a pause. But, his dad didn't de-age or become fitter.

So that was strongly in favor of the idea that the voice from when he woke up omitted the fact that whoever he altered first would be the only one he would be able to alter afterwards.

"Also, are you sure you don't want me to get new clothes for you? I never understood why you only kept the clothes from before your growth spurt." John paused as he heard from the staircase. He furrowed his eyebrows and rubbed his chin again. From before his growth spurt? So the power rewrites memories to conform to changes you make? That's a relief, although it might be hard to adapt to how different people's memories of him have changed.

But then again, John hasn't left the house since 8th grade when his mother finally died of her addictions and his father finally got custody of a younger severely-mentally-fucked-with-John, so it would be easy to say that his god-like genes made themselves present while he shut himself in. And now that he had already finally gathered the courage to go out and attempt to expel his shut-in status, John felt like he shouldn't waste it to just continue keeping himself completely dependent on his father's efforts.

"No, I'll get them myself..." John felt an urge to snicker and a bit of embarrassment as he heard his dad's descending steps stop in what he could guess as surprise. Then he scratched his neck whilst ducking under the doorway as he stepped out into the hallway when he heard his dad's steps turning into ascending ones that were slightly faster. He looked his dad in the face as he came up the stairs and started walking up to John with wide eyes.

"Are you sure? I'll come with you, but are you sure you want to go out?" John smiled sheepishly at the sheer shock on his dad's face, his hands once again placing themselves on his elbows.

"Well now I don't want to." John joked with a grin. He felt like he should've tried to be brave and rebuke his dad's offer to come with him, but he knew going alone was something he would most definitely not choose to do if he could. Baby steps it is, and all that. Going alone was a bigger step than he would willingly take now.

"Nononono, I mean, uhm... Huh, well whatever you decide to do, I'll support you, okay?..." John felt his chest tighten slightly at the sheer warmth he saw in his father's smile and eyes as he stepped away to give John a once-over. John grit his teeth when he noticed the circles under his dad's eyes and the wariness deep in his face that couldn't be completely hidden by the bright expression. His dad's eyes got caught on something near his side.

"Oh, you were going right now? We can go out right now if you want. Where to?" He began to walk away to the staircase, and naturally John followed as his mind began to blank, simply absorbing the happiness he could feel radiating off his father.

John knew he probably should've been embarrassed by how big of a change there was in the mood of his father simply because he was trying to do something every functioning social person did. Go out. But he just thanked past him for changing his mind-state, organizing it and making it so easily controllable. He always knew the human brain was flawed, working in a rewarding system, that could lead to it spiraling downwards like he did.

But right now, John felt just fine for the first time in his life. Functioning with the clarity of a computer was very convenient, allowing him to view himself and make decisions in a more objective reasonable manner.

"I was thinking of going to... a clothing store." John's mind blanked when it came to thinking of a store that wasn't some expensive garishly-designed brand-name store.

"We can just go to Walmart if you're more comfortable with that. Oh wait no too many people there..." His dad began to murmur to himself as he turned away to begin going down the stairs again.

John looked on, absentminded, before he shook his head and turned to go into the bathroom. Careful of his clothing he ducked through the doorway and opened up the cabinet and reached for the toothbrush he hadn't touched in two months.

Two months.

John suddenly felt a slight sense of morbid amusement as he touched his mouth. Squeezing out some of the minty toothpaste onto the bristles of the electric toothbrush John was almost dazed as he thought back on himself.

He could only describe himself as a failure.

A grim curling of his lips reached his eyes, and he almost laughed at the disdainful look he reflexively put on when he looked into the mirror. Angst. He thinks that's what its called. Or maybe it was something else. But he disliked himself now.

It was a strange feeling.

Author's Note: Yo, I'm back... lmao a 7 month hiatus after only writing a single chapter. That's on the same level as Berserk's hiatuses. Well anyways, yeah Imma continue writing this.