My Invincible Father Chapter 1: Nolan Grayson.

AN/ Something I wrote a while back.

Still working out a few things with Spider X next chapter, so check this out. It's might be interesting.

It's unedited.

Oh yeah please comment.

:---------------: :------------------: :----------------::


Chapter 1: Nolan Grayson.



He kept staring at the mirror.

Had been. For the last hour. And yet...none of this made sense.

The face that looked back at him, was none other than Nolan Grayson's. Otherwise known as Omni-Man.

He was inside a neat room. With a simple bed in the middle and a half open window letting in a warm breeze.

The curtains ruffled slightly.

The sound, woke up his pregnant wife. Another headache he was going to have to address.

"Nolan, baby? Come back to bed. It's cold without you."

Debbie's voice was soft, loving...desiring.

And they stirred up the same emotions in him. And love. A love that was deep as it was shallow. He knew how the real Nolan felt.

She wasn't different to all the other lovers he'd had in the past. Maybe the most...insatiable one. The way she moaned when he brushed her nipple with his lips.

"Go back to sleep Debbie."

Nolan's voice rang through the bedroom, deep and steady.

A sound that always managed to ease her. She rubbed her bulging belly lovingly. And then peacefully went to sleep. Her breath evened out. She was dead to the world.

Nolan or rather the soul within him sighed, rubbing his chin in irritation.

"Oi, is this a joke or something?"

He asked in an annoyed voice.

"I'm 56. Too old to have a brat. Take me bac-..."

He stopped, as a burning envelope flew into his hand from the open window.

The envelope was red and had the insignia '666' imprinted on its surface.

Nolan opened it with a stony gaze, pulling out a white letter.

"(You have been banished from hell. Deal with it.)"

Nolan stopped, scratching his beard.

"(Due to an error with the Office of the ~Damned~ Souls Resource Management, Subject XxxX 012276 has been released on probation. Upon successful completion of an issued mission, the subject's sentence will be completely annulled. Do you accept? It Doesn't Matter if you do. Abandoning the mission will result in [True Death)"

The paragraph cut off there. Then a few skipped rows down, there was another piece of text. The mission.

His brows arched.

"How ironically annoying."

He breathed out through his nose, jaw

"In my past life I enjoyed reaping lives...and now I'm supposed to safeguard them?"

He stared at his wife's reflection in the mirror. His eyes returned to his own reflection. A handsome man, Nolan Grayson was.

A strong man.

Veins bulged across his terrifyingly cut physique. The physique of a man at his prime. The physique of a warrior.

He could feel it. The raw power in his limbs. Enough to create earthquakes with a single punch.

Enough to vaporoze a man with a single slap.

And he had some firm butcheeks as well. Good for jumping and running. For added measure he squeezed them. Solid rock.

This body was fashioned after numerous battle, honed through life or death altercations.

It was fitting.

Maybe he could do it. If only for the next 18 years. And then ge could off the brat and his mother. Or rather his wife.

He had to keep up pretenses after all. Play the firm but loving father and husband.

He was even going to train the brat, so that when the time finally comes for him to release his pent up agression, the brat would be a worthy challenge.

Turning around, the New Nolan Grayson, not only the prince of an intergalactic warrior race of conquerors, not only a father or husband, not only...dubbed history's worst serial killer as recorded by 2081 A.D, not only a former prisoner of the worst level of hell, accepted his new life.

He accepted it all.

The letter and envelope left on top of the dresser self combust, burning from the edges in.

And the words on the final paragraph, before the letter turned into ash, read:

(Your mission is simple, Nolan Grayson. This is a world in need of a savior. The Avengers Initiative shall fail and the World will be infected by a Zombie Plague. 18 years. Protect Earth 2149T for 18 years and you can have your freedom.)

The next morning, Nolan woke up to a sensation he hadn't felt in a long time. A sensation that he had missed.

The lips of a woman wrapped around his member.

He peeked his eyes open, meeting the doe-eyed lusty expression on Debbie's face.

"Mmowjng, oowj do Sweep?" (Morning, how'd you sleep? )

She tried to speak with his dick in her mouth, sending waves of pleasure through him.

"Dammit woman, you really know how to work me up."

He growled.

Debbie squelled as he pulled her to his chest, tickling her sides and making her laugh uncontrollablly.

"Stahp stahp..."

He only stopped when she was mellow like putty in his hands.

She snuggled her back into his chest, fitting in perfectly between his large and muscular hands.

He even felt her kneading them, almost entranced. It was something he learned she loved from Nolan's memories.

Debbie was attracted to his vicious strength. The Alpha male power he exuded whenever he walked or talked or...fucked.

She was an insatiable woman afterall. And an insatiable needed an insatiable man.

"Hey babe,"

She called out.

"The baby wants some fresh croissants from that French place and the wife prefers a plate of crumpets and a tub of ice-cream. If only I had a..."

Within a single second he was out of New York, the next he arrived in France and was back inside the bedroom on the last second.

"...husband who could..."

Debbie trailed off aa her nose picked up a wonderful scent.

On the drawer next to the bed was a packet with the breakfast she wanted.

Debbie turned to face Nolan with an hungry look on her face. She carressed his cheek.

"Have I ever told you how wonderful you are, Nolan Grayson?"

Nolan smiled with mirth.

"Not nearly enough."

"Then allow me to express my gratitude."

Debbie Loosened her gown, revealing herself to the man she wholeheartedly believed was her husband.

Outside the room, pleasurable moaning could be heard as Nolan mercilessly fucked his pregnant wife.

The sky at the attitude he was floating above ended at her point on the horizon.

The canvas of life in the form of a sphere shifted from shades of blue, green and brown just under his chin, giving way to an endless expanse of stars and mores stars.

It was a view the old Nolan was used to. The new Nolan didn't see the point in it.

He supposed it wasn't bad. And some might consider it beautiful even. But it wasn't the same as killing. It didn't give him the same appreciation of existence as the transition from life to death in someone's eyes.

But it will have to do.

To succeed in his mission meant forging an identity. That of a hero. And for there to be no chinks in his armor, he had to go deeper than that.

He had to change his mindset to reflect that of a hero.

18 years...

He caught himself before he could complain about it being too long. He was a viltrumite now. 18 years...heck even 1000 years was nothing to him now. It would all pass in the blink of an eye.

Before then, his cover had to be ironclad.

As it so happened, fate had the same plans. With his hearing, he was able to pinpoint a crisis that needed his help.

Without a moment's hesitation the future Omniman, the cape of his costume flapping, begun to descend towards Chicago, a fire was burning on a the 13th floor of a building in Downtown.

He got there in less than 3 seconds. Something that had him questioning just how powerful Nolan was. He could cross the world in a matter of seconds.

And that wasn't his top speed.

Questions for another time.

Right now he had lives to save. He floated down onto the floor, ignoring the roar of flames as he closed his eyes, using his ears.

The fast and panicked heart rates of 12 people scattered about the office reached his ears.

"Okay. I'll get the ones about to be crushed on the floor below out first."

His form blurred, the burst of pressure from his sheer speed, causing a pocket of displaced air to collapse, instantly putting out the flames, before a loud sonic boom erupted behind him.

Down below, the police had cordoned off the entrance to the building, blocking the crowds of onlookers and reporters while the fire-men evacuated the employees.

A young photographer just happened to look up.

"Hey what happened to the fire?"

Just then, bars of metal and pieces of debris from the destroyed floor rained down onto the ground.

"Lookout!"

The photographer cried out, looking around urgently, trying to urge everyone to leave, only to find them all staring up.

So he did as well, and there floating above them all was a tall man, dressed in a white and red costume with an I on his chest.

The man had a warm, comforting smile as he gazed down at them. A smile that eased the young photographer despite being dumbstruck by such a strange scene.

"Don't worry Citizens. Rest easy. For I am Here."

And then he flew off.

No one said anything. All of them, the police, the firefighters, the rescued victims.

It was like that...until he left.

And only then did any of them find themselves breathing. That...that presence and aura.

"I was just saved by a Superhero. A real life Superhero."

One person, covered in smoke and a few burns said, disbelief apparent on her face.

"Like Captain America. Or an angel. He swooped in through the flames and pulled me out..."

Another one chimed in.

That was when the crowd noticed the 12 new additions. The office workers that were stuck in the fire.

The only question in the Photographer's mind was one that carried with it serious implications.

A simple question nonetheless.

How was the world going to take this?

(Elsewhere)

News of course, spread far and wide. Throughout not only the country but the world itself.

It was the year 2002 after all, Superheros were a thing of the past. Of the 40's

And interested parties took note.

To be specific, a certain one eyed spy in a multi billion dollar air carrier looked at the picture of Omniman on the wall of his office and frowned.

But he was far from the only one.