Invincible:Detonate

Earth. Somewhere Unremarkable. Some Time Ago.]

I died.

Not in some grand, meaningful way. No, I wasn't saving a child from an oncoming bus, nor was I assassinated for knowing too much about the world's secrets. I just died. Plain and simple.

One second, I was walking across the street after a long shift at work, and the next—bam. Truck. Screeching tires. Brief moment of weightlessness. Then nothing.

I don't remember much after that. There was no life flashing before my eyes, no tunnel of light. Just darkness. A void that stretched forever, where my mind lingered in a state of limbo. I thought that was it.

I was wrong.

[Unknown Location. Unknown Time.]

I woke up to a headache. A deep, pounding headache like I had just taken one too many hits to the head. Not an unfamiliar feeling. I blinked.

White ceiling. Fluorescent lights. A sterile, medical smell in the air. I tried to move, but my body felt sluggish. Heavy.

Then I noticed the voices.

"He's stable, but it's going to take time for the enhancements to settle."

Enhancements?

My mind was sluggish, processing the information like molasses, but I knew one thing for sure—I was not supposed to be here. Wherever here was.

I turned my head slightly, catching sight of a figure in a lab coat, standing over me with a clipboard. He looked… smug. That was never a good sign.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," he said, smirking.

That was when I noticed something else—something that turned my slowly creeping dread into full-blown panic.

I wasn't in my body.

No, my body had been average. Office-worker build, bad posture, chronic sleep deprivation. This? This was something else. I could feel the difference, even without moving. The muscle. The strength. Like my entire structure had been altered, rebuilt into something unnatural.

Panic settled in, but I shoved it down. First thing's first: assess the situation. I needed a mirror. I needed to see what the hell had happened to me.

The doctor—or scientist?—must have noticed my eyes darting around because he chuckled. "Don't strain yourself. Your body is still adjusting. The modifications will feel strange at first, but you'll adapt soon enough."

Modifications. That word rang alarm bells.

I forced my lips to move, voice scratchy. "What… happened?"

He raised an eyebrow, as if I'd asked a stupid question. "You were chosen, of course. Project REX is officially a success."

REX.

That was when everything clicked. The modifications. The name. The vague familiarity of the scientist's smug expression.

Oh. Oh, shit.

I was in Invincible.

And I was Rex Splode.

[Unknown Location. Sometime Later.]

Okay. Okay, let's take stock.

I had died. Got hit by a truck. Next thing I knew, I woke up in the body of a character I vaguely remembered from Invincible.

Rex Splode. The cocky, loud-mouthed idiot with the ability to make things explode on contact. He had a rough childhood, got experimented on, and turned into a living weapon.

Fantastic.

I was in his body. That meant I had his powers. His strength. His combat skills. Probably his personality quirks too, considering how natural it felt to throw out a sarcastic comment every five minutes.

But this also meant I was in a world that was infinitely more dangerous than my last one. A world with Viltrumites. With intergalactic wars. With Mark Grayson and Omni-Man and all the nightmare fuel that came with them.

I was so, so screwed.

Still, I had two choices: panic and freak

 out, or adapt and survive.

And considering that I was currently strapped to a medical table in some shady underground lab, I figured I should focus on surviving first.

One problem at a time.

First, I needed to get the hell out of here. Then? Well…

Then I had to figure out how to live in a world where death was a weekly occurrence.

Lucky me

———————————————————-

[Unknown Location. Immediate Problem.]

Alright. First step: escape.

I was still strapped to the table, muscles sluggish from whatever "enhancements" they pumped into me. My fingers twitched, a good sign, but full movement was still a work in progress. I needed time. Unfortunately, time was a luxury I doubted I'd get.

The scientist—let's call him Dr. Smug—was still looking at me like I was a lab rat he'd personally engineered. Not a fan of that.

"You're adjusting quicker than expected," he noted, flipping through his clipboard. "That's promising. We had concerns about neurological rejection, but it seems you're stabilizing."

Neurological rejection. Fantastic. As if waking up in a new body wasn't bad enough, now there was a non-zero chance my brain might just short-circuit.

I tested my wrists. Restraints. Tight, but not unbreakable. Probably. I had no clue how strong I actually was yet, but Rex wasn't exactly weak. If his body was as enhanced as I suspected, I might have a shot at brute-forcing my way out.

Dr. Smug kept talking. "Your kinetic output should be far beyond initial projections. Once you're fully integrated, you'll be capable of controlled detonations on a molecular level. A walking bomb, if you will."

I squinted. "Wow. So glad to hear I'm a human grenade. Real confidence booster, doc."

He smirked. "Ah, there it is. The attitude. We were worried the modifications might dull your… personality."

Yeah. That confirmed something. I wasn't just in Rex's body—I was Rex now. The personality bleed was already happening, sarcasm slipping out naturally. The longer I stayed here, the more I'd probably settle into his instincts.

Which meant I had to move fast before I became too comfortable.

"Anyway," Dr. Smug continued, tapping his clipboard. "You'll be monitored for the next few weeks to ensure full synchronization. But if all goes well, we can begin field testing soon."

Field testing. Nope. Not happening. I was not sticking around to be their personal science experiment.

Time to go.

[Unknown Location. Time to Make an Exit.]

I flexed my fingers again. Movement was coming back. Slowly, but enough.

The restraints were metal, but not thick. Maybe they weren't expecting me to be fully functional yet. Their mistake. I tested my wrist again—felt a little give. Yeah. I could work with this.

Dr. Smug was distracted, checking some monitors. I tensed, took a breath, then pulled.

For a split second, nothing happened. Then—snap. The restraint bent just enough for me to rip my hand free.

Dr. Smug turned at the sound. His eyes widened. "Wait—"

Too late.

I was already moving. My other hand tore free, then my legs. My body still felt off—slower than it should be—but adrenaline was a hell of a motivator. I stumbled off the table, nearly fell, caught myself.

Dr. Smug hit a button. Alarm klaxons blared. Red lights flashed.

Great. So much for a quiet escape.

A door hissed open. Security. Two guys in tactical gear rushed in, weapons raised. I had no idea what kind of firepower they were packing, but I really didn't want to find out.

I needed a weapon.

Then I remembered—I was the weapon.

I reached for the nearest object—a metal tray on a cart beside me. No clue if my powers worked yet, but I had to try. I gripped the tray, focused, and threw.

It hit the first guard's chest—then boom.

Not a huge explosion, but enough to knock him back. Okay. So my powers worked.

The second guy hesitated just long enough for me to close the distance. My body moved on instinct—I ducked his swing, grabbed his wrist, and drove a knee into his stomach. He went down, groaning.

Huh. That was easier than expected. Either the enhancements were working in my favor, or these guys were just bad at their jobs.

Dr. Smug was already backing toward another console, probably to trigger more security. Not happening. I grabbed the first guard's weapon—a stun baton—and hurled it at the console. Sparks flew. Dr. Smug cursed.

I turned to the door. Time to leave.

[Unknown Facility. Hallway of Bad Decisions.]

The hallway was empty. For now. Sirens still screamed in the background, meaning reinforcements were coming. I needed an exit—fast.

I ran, feet unsteady but getting better with each step. The facility was all sleek metal and cold lighting, the kind of place that definitely had hidden cameras watching my every move.

Doors lined the hallway. Labs? Holding cells? I didn't stop to check.

Then—voices. Footsteps. More guards incoming.

I ducked into the nearest room, pressing myself against the wall. The guards ran past, not noticing me. Good. That gave me a little more time.

I exhaled. Alright. Step one: escape. Step two: figure out where the hell I actually was. Step three: survive long enough to come up with a plan.

Simple.

Now I just had to not die before step two.