Chapter Text
You'd think crawling through the pipes would be anything, but it certainly couldn't be classified as epic.
However, the creature swimming in the putrid waters wasn't just anyone. In reality, the birth brought about a lack of understanding of the being itself that needed to be urgently explored.
With the original bearer being a man, an acceptable option would be to embrace masculinity but the amorphous nature of the being dictates that it should not be chained to a single form.
Coming to a consensus, it was decided that things would follow their course naturally.
So it could be male to honour the memory of its creator or it could be interspersed whenever it felt like it.
That part was definitely a work in progress.
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Many days have passed since he left the sewers behind and he urgently needed a good bath. At least that is what human memories told him he needed.
For his part, he was an antisocial being who dedicated himself to crawling through dark corners without stopping or eating food.
Surely no person or living being in general would be interested in pointing out to him that he stinks like a rotten grape stuck in the butt of a 101-year-old man before being thrown into the sewers for a week and a half.
It is a pity that he himself is available to point out these things and magnify them to the maximum power.
If he had a mouth, he would have laughed at the sweet irony.
Without real objectives in his weird life, he began a long journey trying to find a place that would provide him with the necessary tools to improve his olfactory presence and at the same time not attract the attention of anyone who might shout because of his physical presence.
In truth, it was quite easy to find. Not because he had smelled the good smells through his non-existent nose. But the residual colors and memories gave him a good idea of where to go.
One could point out the unusualness of seeing things without the need for eyes and even hearing, for that matter, but then one remembers the unusualness of one's condition and it quickly passes.
Better to be grateful for the little one has than to be foolishly complaining in anticipation of an answer that will never come.
The infiltration was a resounding success. Perhaps it should be tried when the place was not packed to the rafters with humans.
...
Nah.
Sliding like a snake along the polished floors that curiously remained equally impeccable with his gait, the objective was within reach of...
Of... of what?
During a heated debate between a single 'person' looking for a solution to reach cleaning supplies shorter than the sole of a shoe, the telltale sound of the door opening nearly made him jump out of his skin, if he had one to begin with.
Panicking, he looked for the nearest hiding place, which turned out to be a grey box to his left, which he literally stepped through.
One explanation would be that his liquid state gave him the ability to enter the cracks of the physical. Unfortunately, the fear of being discovered was greater than logical thinking at that moment.
Vibrations of footsteps that in his fear felt like full-power earthquakes indicated to him that his supposed refuge would not be so for long.
The light filtering through the lid that would open showed him his funeral or endless torture as a scientific experiment.
He was too young to die. Correction, he had possessed free will for a very short time and it would not be taken from him without a fight.
He says fight when the reality was that he closed his metaphorical eyes while he sank deeply into whatever contained this thing that in the blink of a normal human had become his personal prison.
"Is everything ready?" suddenly said a male voice too far away to be the person peering into his hidden body.
The universe seemed to be in the mood to make him unhappy as a pair of hands began to feel around the contents and inside of the box for half a minute.
"Yeah," replied his tormentor now identified as female. "I smelled a strange odor but found nothing unusual."
'I'm so sorry, that was me.'
"Perfect then. Close it up and put it with the others on the truck. Those hero costumes aren't going to deliver themselves and we have a schedule that's closing fast."
"Aye-aye, cap!"
At times like this he wished he had eyes suitable for crying out of pure happiness for his good fortune.
Of course, what starts well ends badly and the information of the end hit him along with the movement of his unsolicited transport.
Even his limited mind understood what a hero was and what he represented for society. They could very well be his salvation or instead his downfall.
The experience contained in the memories of his former carrier tells him of a less bright side of the civilian heroic community in general.
You only have to see how many of the heteromorphs are treated to get an idea of the treatment that can be expected from the memories of a dead human turned into an alien-looking Quirk.
Scenes from his life inside a test tube greeted him, convincing him to continue with his solitary life.
Whether due to haste or a faulty closure, the lid of the box (or is it a briefcase?) remained open enough for a slime to easily slide out.
Being the aforementioned slime, he tried to push himself towards the opening only to not move at all.
If he had eyebrows or a face to speak of now, he would be wearing a comically frowned frown. Clearly he wasn't going to give up being so close to freedom and continued pushing until he finally got a breakthrough.
Oh no?
The body certainly moved, but all he could see was a smooth black cloth now blocking part of his vision. Curious about this development, he tried to move it to the left and the material obeyed.
Thinking back, he had examined his body and understood that it lacked a stable solid form and looked pasty and disgusting if it tried to solidify as its human had once ordered it to.
In light of the new events he came to a terrifying truth that led to several problems for his expected release.
Somehow, he was the clothes and this time he had no idea how to get out.
"Hey, you left that one open."
"Oops, my bad. Sorry."
And so, the living hero suit was left in the darkness waiting for someone who was not a person with superheroic ideas to come and get it.