Duality. (A Worm Dual-SI)

[Maazen1337]

This is the fic I'd talked about on my Profile Page. Though, there is one thing I forgot to mention… It's a dual SI with my friend. Until he creates an account for this site, he'll go unnamed but he'll be accompanying me as we try to un-grim dark Worm. PoV's won't be alternating, meaning you'll see either his, mine or some other characters' perspective at random- no real order.

'Stress' isn't dropped. It's updates will slow down a lot but it's still on my mind.

WARNING:
I am no Lore Savant in regards to Worm. I read the novel two years ago and since then it has been mostly fanfiction. This means two things; If some characters are missing, sorry but either they're not important enough for me to remember or I'm just stupid. Secondly, if I fuck up somebodies personality, power specifics or motivations then, again, sorry. Happens. Just think of it as an AU in that case, m'kay?

TRIGGER WARNING:
First scene contains… gore. Also a lot of descriptions of terror and stuff. Just… be warned of some fucked up stuff. Gotta get the MC's traumatized for their triggers somehow…

Now then, onto the fic!

---

'Fucking hell…' I groan audibly. Class is boring, unbelievably so. Biology with the worst teacher ever created by God- wait, maybe he handed her off to Satan when she was being conceived? Yeah, that'd explain a lot.

"Bro, we still got Maths after this…" I complain.

"I'm not in your math course." He responds dryly, equally bored.

"I know, just let me complain." I reply as my head dips to my thigh, resting snugly behind the larger, extended tables of our Biology/Chemistry classroom. There, my phone lies, brightness lowered enough to where it wont show on my chest, nor on my face.

My hand shoots to my forehead as I cover my eyes from the teacher, letting them continue to read the Fanfic on said phone. Not been caught yet, even when sitting in the front row, so there must be something to this technique.

My neck and head readjust, seeming from outside as if I'm reading the textbook below, when, in reality, I am most certainly not focused on Osmosis- nope, my attention is solely fixed on trying to figure out how the hell this Self Insert survives the Warhammer 40K universe.

I mean, even the best Warp-resistance wont do shit when an Ork WAHHH!!! comes to chop your fuckin' head off!

"Teacher." My friend notifies me of the arriving agent of unfun, my head shooting back up to the whiteboard and my hand, pretending to caress my thigh, actually returning my phone to my pocket, the soft click of its power button heard by nobody.

The teacher passed by us with a stern glance, finding no ammunition for the 'talking-to' I can feel in my bones. She's been suspecting my inattention for a while now…

"Thanks."

"Mhm." He replies, folded arms shielding his face from the world as he tries his best to either sleep through class (he's yet to achieve that) or to try and enter a sort of unparalleled Zen where he receives, retains and regurgitates no information from this class.

I sigh, slowly phasing my attention back on class. My Bio grades are in the gutter, I can't be wasting my A in English on balancing it. "-f higher concentration can into one of lower concentration." There's a short pause in her monologue but before she can begin again, there's a knock on the door.

For some reason, my heartbeat picks up.

Miss Cabroria, a latina teacher of at least 40 years of age, steps out from behind the teachers podium and towards said door. She opens the door. "We're in th-"

~BOOM!~

The gunshot- it could not have been mistaken for anything else- splatters her brains on the ground behind her. "A-" No other noise comes from her as she collapses. Dead in a puddle of blood.

My eyes were locked onto the scene- her corpse. As much as I hate a teacher, I do not wish death upon anybody. I can't bring myself to. I couldn't kill somebody, even in my deepest, darkest fantasies. I was focused so much on the scene that I barely registered a man- or at least I thought they were one form their build- stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, a zip tie locking the handle to the nearby fire extinguisher.

He didn't say anything, tired eyes staring through a ski-mask with rage. Somebody went crazy, this is a school shooting. No morbidly sarcastic joke let me distract myself like I thought it would in this situation, nobody panicked, nobody was trying to 'play hero'.

We all looked at the actual dead person on the floor.

"I'm going to kill you all."

His voice was rough, but more so from going unused than from age. I suspect he may be my age, maybe a bit younger. Not enough to where I could physically overpower him anyways. He had a smoking gun, after all.

"W-" The question didn't leave my throat. I didn't want to speak.

My friend was equally horrified. His breathing was quick and shallow and his eyes dilated.

Wait, I was breathing like that too. Huh, hadn't noticed. 'M-Mom… fuck.' I thought of my mother, then my brother, then my cats then, as my eyes darted to him, my friend. One of the few that cared enough about me to ignore how awfully annoying I could be at times.

Another gunshot made me jump in my seat, my quickening heart beating like drums in my ears. We were in the left row of two rows in this room, at the front. The k-killer was going from right to left. We had thirty seconds until death, judging from the second shot as he killed the girl who's name I still couldn't remember.

Now, that seemed insulting to her.

In what felt like a second, the barrel was staring at his face. He was holding his breath, eyes wide, teary. 'W-What..? N-No… He can't die. He doesn't… We don't deserve it-' I didn't think further on it, my legs feeling like lead as I forced myself up.

It was no act of heroism, where it not my friend that I was panicking for, then I'd have taken the time they would have granted me with their death with thankful arms.

My arms shot towards t-

The barrel twisted.

A bright light, a loud sound.

Then, I was on the floor, my chair sprawled beside me on my left… slowly getting soaked in blood.

I felt it, then, hot pain. My body felt like burning iron, a searing agony coming from my left shoulder. I started shouting, my throat going hoarse after only a few dozen seconds. I saw the man who'd shot me staring at my bleeding form through a haze, his gaze unfeeling.

"F-Fucking… Psycho!" I shouted through the pain.

The man didn't take it well. He shot my friend next, his head having turned to me in terror. I saw the hole open up over his left eye, blood splattering all over me as he, too, collapsed on the floor, a snapping sound coming from him as he hit the fallen chair on the way down. Then he laid there, eyes visually still the same, but seeming so dull and empty now.

Dead.

He was dead.

My friend was dead.

I'm going to die.

Then, another gunshot, but I only heard the first few moments of it as my world went dark not soon after, the pain ceasing not an instant later.

---

A sharp intake of breath is the response my body comes up with when I next gain consciousness. "HELP!" I shout immediately, still feeling the phantom pain of the gunshot w- wait… 'phantom' pain?

I open my eyes to be greeted by a dark ceiling of metal far, far above me, hanging above metal-beam rafters. I'm in… an old warehouse? I feel around my body, seeing no injury, no blood.

I let out a shivering sigh. I somehow survived that. Who am I? Rex-fucking-'Splode!?! I sit upright, my back already feeling stiff from laying on the cold, hard concrete floor full of dust and probably fallen spiderwebs. I take a good, long look at my surroundings, my mind still running a mile a minute. A few wooden crates litter the half-a-football field-long-warehouse. There is broken furniture and some tarps over a few, too but there's mostly what you'd expect from an abandoned warehouse, shelves full of random stuff and uncleaned space.

The stereotypical, almost boring surroundings are a balm on my panicking mind.

I take a deep breath, inhaling a good bit of dust with it. I start coughing and hacking as I try to unclog my throat. After a while, I stood up fully, taking stock of my surroundings. "H-Hello?" I hear a soft groan in response, at which I jump at in surprise. I spin around to face another person, sitting against one of the wooden crates.

It was…

It was…

A bullet through the brain- empty eyes devoid of life.

It was my friend. I rush over, immediately checking his forehead with panicked sweeps of my hand. "Dude! FUCK man, are you good!?"

"I-" He lets out a rough cough in response. "Did…Did we just…"

"Die? Yeah… I- um- Think so." There was silence as we contemplated. Our class just got shot up. We both died, literally bleeding out next to each other. He didn't seem like he wanted to stand up and I didn't feel like standing, so I slid down next to him.

We both were staring at the ground in front of us for a good minute. Then, I took a deep breath. "We definitely died. I mean, there's no surviving that, right?" He didn't look back at me as he nodded. "Then, let's take stock of the situation… cause what else are we supposed to fucking do..?"

He nodded again, his head hitting the box behind us softly as he leaned back.

As I was about to begin, his head shot towards the left. I frowned. "What's… up..?" I trailed off as I looked directly above me.

There was a bague-gold, eight-handled wheel about the size of a car tire floating a good dozen centimeters above me. I stood back up, the wheel following. I took a step to the left. With only a slight delay, it followed, as if tied to me by an extremely strong, blocky spring.

My weeb-ass mind made the connection instantly. "What the fuck? Mahoraga's…" I saw him nod.

"What the…" He started to rise again, his legs not seeming as unstable as mine felt. Then, he clenched his eyes as if in pain, his fingers raising to his temple. "Fucking…" I saw him grit his teeth. "I can see… or feel? I can… sense this place."

I quirked an eyebrow. "What?"

"I can… we have superpowers." He says blandly, as if stating a fact. And I guess… he kinda was. If the wheel above me was implying what it was implying, then we did indeed have superpowers- or at least I did. His hand shot to the left, then, without any flash or flicker, he held a dusty screwdriver.

"Whoa?!" I took a step back. "Fuck was that?"

He blinked a few times. Then frowned. "My thingy. It's… weird? It's spatial manipulation but, like, different…"

"How?"

"I've got no clue- I had this for all of five minutes man." He responded dryly.

I shrugged. "Well, we can test mine pretty easily… punch me."

He did not hesitate, I can give him that. My shoulder slightly stung as his fist met it and then I felt… an internal switch. I flicked it, then, I had an exact timer at the back of my head as well as a vague feeling. "Blunt Force… Eight Days?"

"What?" He asked, switching around the screwdriver between his hands in amazement.

"No, no… I get what you mean now. I've got this vague feeling but, like, no specifics." I answered.

He nodded. "M'kay. So we're… Superheroes now, or what?" That was a loaded question.

"I'm fucking that shooter up, that isn't very heroic." I state with utter confidence. I would adapt to cuts and gunshots and then go and beat that guy black and blue before throwing him in prison.

"You're not killing him?" He asked, not really surprised.

I clench my jaw. "I… can't bring myself to." I shook my head. "Mom raised me too well."

I saw him smirk. "I'd kill him."

Responding with a nod, I answer. "Don't blame you."

Turning to the only entrance I could find, I pointed at said entrance, which was just a sheet of metal connected to a cut-out doorway. "Let's get ou-"

"There's a group of… I guess gangsters out that way. We should take the back entrance." He responded.

I blinked a few times, still acclimating to the fact that we have god damn superpowers. "Okay… Lead the way, man." He did so, a few turns and twists later and we were standing in an alleyway. The sky was a dark gray, a moody storm probably brewing. It was fucking cold. We were wearing only what we wore to school- so a shirt and a sweater- baggy jeans for me and skinnier ones for him.

"I…"

"Yeah.."

"This isn't home." I mutter.

"Sure isn't…" He affirms.

"Wait… that- Look." I point at a closed electronics store. "'Brockton's Batteries'. I've… no. Dude. Fuck. We need a phone- or- or like a library. NOW!" I fumble around my pants' pockets only to find fucking nothing, not even my wallet.

"Nothing." He, too, had nothing on him. "There's… A block down there's a big building with a lot of shelves. Could be a library."

"Man, nifty power, huh?" I try dry humor.

There's no laugh.

We take a walk down the street, meeting fucking nobody and avoiding eye contact with the single asian man we see walking down the street opposite of ours. Thank fuck he didn't glance at us either, with the wheel floating above me and all. At some point we reached a library. 'Bay's Books'. I'm not feeling hopeful right now.

The wide-eyed look of the other not-dead guy next to me inspires no confidence. "It's closed."

I see him narrow his eyes, then… he's gone. No displacement of air or flicker- he just fucking disappears. A knocking from the building alerts me to where he went. "Teleportation?" I ask, seeing him nod as he opens the door from the other side. "They didn't lock it?"

He shrugs. "If this is the place I think it is…"

I nod. "You wouldn't bother."

As I step inside the building, I hear a vaguely wooden thumping noise from my wheel hitting the door frame. I had already forgotten about it again. Inside the building we, first of all, searched for a light switch. Easier said than done when you could see virtually nothing. After a struggle that went on for way too long I mentioned to my friend; "They probably turned off the power. Can you also find the power box with your power?"

"I can certainly try…" He concentrated for a second, rubbing his temples after just a short moment. "I'm getting a headache… I can't find a power box, sorry. I do think I know where the employee break room is, though"

"On an unrelated note, should we rob this place? I literally have fucking nothing on me." I glance over to him as he steps towards said room. "I've, like, lost most of my moral compass with stealing and stuff now that we're very much poor and homeless… and also because we died." I nodded, affirming my own statement. "Yeah… I'm probably retaining some kind of trauma from that…"

He turns to me with narrowed eyes and an unamused look. "Libraries don't have cash."

"Oh." I suck in my lips. "We…"

"Let's just turn the lights on." He sighs and continues.

He's the only one with fuckin' echo-location so I just fumble until I find the front desk. I could see enough to find my way behind it and onto the spinning chair. Then, I waited.

I heard a few thuds and the sound of falling plastic but after a good minute, with a sudden noise, the lights turned on. I had to blink a few times, feeling as if I was about to go blind. "Jesus!" Yup, that was the first light brighter than the streetlamps I saw since I died and if these are entirely new bodies, then they sure haven't seen this kind of luminance (or the sun) ever.

The PC also turned on - it was an old one, too. Boxy and in a white casing, thick cables running down the side. There was no password and the old Windows OS that I've never used but every 25+ year old raves about on the internet lets me know what year (roughly) we are in.

I opened the browser.

I typed in 'Endbringer'.

A sharp intake of air.

"Hey… dude!?" I shouted out as he emerged from the staff room- the door being positioned to my left. "We're in Worm." I stated and even as I said it, it still didn't feel real. I had to type in 'PRT' and 'Cape' before I genuinely believed it.

He came rushing into the booth, too. He gently rolled my chair aside and read the first few lines of an article; 'New PRT Ward, Shadow Stalker. Vigilante turned Hero?'.

He searched for something else. 'Corona-19'. Nothing. "Oh shit." He muttered in both shock and a type of fear.

"You're… No, you're right." He lets out a shuddering breath.

"We… What's the plan?" I ask timidly, eyes still on the screen, hoping to find any confirmation that this is just a joke.

"I don't know…" He looked more serious than I'd ever seen him.

I take a deep breath, centering myself. "We're in Brockton Bay. There's Endbringers and consequently Scion and the Entities too. We've probably got shards and the town we're in will be hit by Leviathan in, like, a couple of months."

Saying it myself makes it seem more real- and that's terrifying. "But… We've got potential to help. Not just as small-time Vigilantes or something. Actual Eidolon level fighters." I feel as motivated by that statement as I feel deathly afraid.

"I feel responsible for my power. I don't think I'm Spider Man levels of responsible but I don't think I could live with myself if I didn't try to change this world for the better." Contrary to what you might think, that was no proud monologue. I was mostly muttering and stumbling through my words.

"I've never been the leader type… I don't think I'd be sane without you here- so let's try and un-Grimm dark this world."

I nod, I knew he had a different moral compass to me. I don't blame him or anything, everybody is different and it's not like he's S9 levels of fucked up.

"So… Hero duo?"

"More like an Anti-Hero duo- we're killing a few villains." He responds. He doesn't seem too hung up about that but my stomach drops at the concept.

But I know… people like Jack Slash and Hookwolf need to die. Coil, too. I take another breath. "Fine. We'll need names."

"Yeah, Hero names that don't sound ass."

I shake my head, smirk on my face. "I don't think I can keep my old name… we died. I'm not seeing my… my family ever again. I need to separate that life from this one, else I'll be… yeah."

He nods. "I get it. I'll… For different reasons, me too."

I nod, starting to think. This'll be my new identity, what I will be called from now on. "Mahoraga!"

"No."

"Makora?" I futilely ask.

"No. The ABB will kill you for that."

Sighing, I nod. "Hmm…Samsara? Sam for short? Ironic, too, considering that we've reincarnated and that I've got the whole adaptation thing going on- which could be considered a cycle of change..?"

His eyes narrow, then close briefly as he thinks. When they open again, he agrees. "That works. Wait..!" He types that into the search bar with 'Cape' at the end.

There was a guy who could turn things into springs but he died a good decade ago in one of the first Behemoth attacks.

"You're free to go." He nods.

I take another focusing breath, I've been doing that a lot lately. "Samsara… okay. That's me now."

He agrees and I get up from the chair, feeling different. "I can't come up with anything right now so… call me Space I guess,"

Shrugging, I walk out of the booth. "That's as good as placeholder names get I guess."

There's a deafening silence after that. We both know we'll need food and clothing- basic hygiene too… "There's a convenience store at the end of the road. Empty…" He states.

The implication is glaring.

I nod. "Let's commit our first crime then, I guess…"

"For the greater good?" He throws into the room.

My answering chuckle is full of mirth. "Don't even start with that. I'm… I'm too selfish to not enjoy my power while saving the world." I wasn't really embarrassed to admit that, he knew I was relatively prideful and impulsive, even if my self-hatred often gets in the way of that.

I've only ever had my grades to be proud of but now…

"Then, for the greater good and fun?" He reiterates.

"Well, as much fun as you can have in this shithole." I wave my hand dismissively as we make for the door.

"Cameras are off and the feed deleted." He says after a second before he comes out of the receptionists booth.

"We don't have to bother with turning the lights off, then.." I mutter.

He shakes his head and grabs my wrist, stopping me within arms reach or the glass door. "But let's not risk it."

I roll my eyes but have to agree, in this world something like this could be a clue that will let a Thinker figure out everything about you.

---

We were out of the building not soon after, no visible trace of our break-in left… I think. "We'll need a costume or masks, at least." I comment as we make our way towards the store.

I had pulled up my hood and was trying to keep my face out of sight. Though, it's not like I'll be keeping a civilian identity with that wheel above me anyways but the thought is nice.

"Wait…" I see Space grit his teeth and after a tense moment, he lets out a defeated breath. "Nope. That hurt a lot."

"Trying to find a mask?"

He nodded in response. "My… sixth sense(?) isn't that precise." He sways his head a bit at that. "Well no, it can be that precise but taking in all that data gives me a migraine at best."

I shrug. "Let's hopefully find one inside, then."

We made our way toward the back entrance of the small store- we didn't even bother to look at what it was called.

I saw Space narrow his eyes as his hand stretched towards the handle of the locked gray metal door. A soft click lets me know that it was no longer barring our entry.

"Do you need to stretch our arm out like that? If you could do without, then you'll be a hell of a lot more unpredictable."

He nods as he opens the door, warm air flowing out of the building. Somebody left the AC on… "I don't really need to do it but it helps me use the ability. Without it, I'll need to focus on where exactly the object is in my head."

He then shrugs as we step inside. "It just lets me focus more on controlling the object and less on getting a hold of it."

"I guess it'll come with practice then."

We made our way into a small hallway that led back into the store or, if we went left, into an employee break room.

We started walking towards the left corridor. "My range is shrinking."

I glanced over to Space. "Hm?" I let out a questioning hum.

"It was roughly two Kilometers when we woke up-" fucking what?! "-but after all my uses it's now about 1.98 or something in that ballpark." He frowned and spoke again before I could respond. "Wait. It's slowly regenerating again."

"Dude, that's a cracked Thinker power. And you roughly know about everything in that radius around you?" I ask, eyes wide as I engage in one of my favorite pastime activities: power theorizing and scaling.

He does a 'so-so' motion with his hand as we start rummaging through cabinets and the single desk in the office space that was attached to the admittedly bland break room. "Very roughly. I can focus on a single room and 'see' it more clearly but I'd still notice something like a falling building even if I was focusing on the opposite side of my range."

I made an impressed facial expression at that. "Damn." I swipe my brown hair out of my face as I finally find what we were looking for. A tray of cash that was to be counted by the manager tomorrow. "Got it."

When I turn around, I find Space with two Ski masks and tinted sunglasses in hand. I shrug and accept a pair, putting them on shortly after. Apparently, my vision was now impaired enough to trigger my power.

It seems my version of the Divine General's power is better and worse at the same time. Firstly, it doesn't feel like I'm approaching a limit to the number of things I can adapt to. Secondly, I can adapt to multiple things at the same time. Problem is, depending on what I'm adapting to, it takes a lot longer.

Like, Mahoraga would need maybe five minutes after getting punched to adapt, less if he's punched again.

I need eight days. Yes, I somehow know my timer will also shorten with continued exposure but that doesn't change the immense time increase.

I shake my head. If I keep these glasses on, then… "I'll be able to see in the dark in roughly three hours." I announce.

"Sweet."

We went into the office and logged into the computer with the conveniently placed note on the desk that told us the password and we deleted the camera feed and deactivated the devices as well.

We returned to the tray.

Taking the money- roughly four thousand dollars- Space gets us a black backpack with leather accents before we start making our way into the store proper to get some food and other necessary items.

After a second bag was filled to the brim as well we made for the door. "So, if this robbery gets forwarded to the PRT for some fuckin' reason when the police come in the morning, we're fucked right?"

He smirks and I let out a dry chuckle. "Watchdog would have our ass the second they get the file." He replies.

"We-"

"Dodge!" He shouts and I react, vaulting to the side as the floor below us gains the properties of mud or quicksand.

It started to bubble up and rise and after a second or two, a vaguely human figure with glowing yellow eyes made of a liquid black-tiled store floor was towering over us by a good two heads of height.

"My… Food!" I hear it let out a distorted grunt. "I just need… to eat something."

"Calm down man!" I shout, recognizing a Case 53 when I see one. Still, I'm frozen on the spot at this supernatural occurrence. This entire day has been so bizarre…

Space was slowly tearing chunks of concrete out of the ground and letting them orbit around his head.

"N… No!" Its arms start to flail, smashing the glass door behind him. "I can't fucking remember!"

It's left… 'Hand' shot towards me, the floor rising up in spikes or hardened mud with the texture of the black and white floor in a line in his gestured direction.

I sidestep and start to run away and further into the aisles. "I'll try to find a weapon!" I shout towards Space.

Before I turn the corner, I see Space shoot the small rocks of gathered material into the Cape with a fuck ton of speed, maybe faster than a car. It tore through the transformed man, splattering most of its left side on the windows and walls behind, the projectile continuing through and breaking the wall behind, landing on the street outside.

'Damn.'

I continue to run through the selves, eventually finding a small rack filled with gardening utensils. I pick up a small hatchet and begin running back to the fight, ripping off the small cardboard packaging.

I arrived to find… oh. There was a floating ball of metal about four times the size of a basketball and Space was continuously adding more materials onto it, ripping apart the floor below more and more until it looked like it had been hit by a miniature meteor shower.

"Did you…?"

"Basically a Pokeball." He answered.

"How long can you keep that up for?" I asked in response.

"Maybe an hour." He answered and I whistled, impressed.

"We'll need to… call the police or something, right?" I ask a bit wearily.

He sighed and nodded. "Think there's a landline somewhere around here?"

I snort. "It's 2011. I think they're already being phased out." He shrugged, not knowing any better. "Well, I'll go search for one anyways." He nodded as I returned to the staff room. I immediately spotted the phone on the desk and groaned. Guess he was right. I dialed 911 and after a few seconds… "911, what's your emergency?"

"There's a Parahuman in the store. We ourselves are newly debuting… heroes and detained him." I tried to keep my voice down.

"Thank you for notifying us. A PRT detainment team will be on their way shortly." She hung up then. I sighed and returned to Space, the man himself drinking a slurpee that he'd stolen from one of the not broken machines. He was still lazily holding the Case 53 in the Pokeball, not even tremors or dents appearing on the ball's surface.

"And?" He asked. He seemed relaxed and maybe he was but I liked to think I wasn't the only one still caught off guard by this entire situation.

"A few minutes… I forgot to ask how long they'll take." I sighed and slid my backpack off my back, opened it and after a short struggle, fit the hatched inside. "We should get out of here. Think you can hold the sphere from a few blocks down?"

He nodded.

We headed out of the shop in a sprint, at some point arriving in an alleyway where Space stopped me. "The PRT's there." He said five minutes after we left. "They've got some kind of… ah, Containment Foam. I'll release the Cape now." I didn't hear anything but from his slumping shoulders, I was guessing the situation resolved itself.

"Let's… head back to the warehouse?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Not like we own a home. And with my power, I'll know when we should hide or something." I nodded and sighed. First day in Brockton and we already fought a Cape.