AnotherArchetype
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135. One In A Million
🕑 Added 2025-04-07 13:15:38 +0000 UTCWhen the door opened I wasn’t at first sure it was Azad I was looking at.
Because the young man standing at the doorway was, objectively, very handsome. He was standing shirtless, his leanly muscled body on display and glistening slightly even in the dull hallway light.
His head of hair was long, reaching just shy of his shoulders in thick black curls.
Gone were his acne scars, the bulbous-ness of his nose, and the bushiness of his eyebrows. There were a thousand smaller changes which made up the new sum of his facial features, but it was undeniable it was as if his charisma stats were greatly increased.
He was taller, about six feet tall, too.
A thought which came to mind shortly after I first saw Azad in his new form, was how every human being is the winner of a great contest before they’re even born. All of us, once sperm, competed in that race for our mother’s egg in the womb. Millions of sperm; of which we were just one possibility. And what was in those possibilities? What versions of ourselves didn’t win the race? A taller self? A more handsome one? One which would be born with defects that would hinder our lives? Even after the winner of the right to be born was decided, there still were things about who we are that were up to a certain degree of chance; our sex, and the quality of the experience we had in the womb; the same child born in the womb of an alcoholic verses a mother who hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol in their life would see a very difficult outcome once born.
Looking at Azad as he first stepped out, with a slight smirk on his newly-beautified face, I couldn’t help but think that he had made himself into the one-in-a-million, best possible version of himself there could possibly have been.
“Hey,” he said, “How’d I look?”
I considered his question for a moment, as if he intended for a genuine answer.
“I dunno,” I said, forcing a shrug and an indifferent tone, “Like peak Antonio Banderes on steroids.”
“Is that the Zorro guy?” said Azad.
“Yeah,” I said.
Azad’s smirk became a charming grin.
“Not bad,” he said.
“Or,” I said, “Like Jeff Goldblum in ‘The Fly’’s better looking brother.”
An awkward silence followed.
“Haven’t seen ‘The Fly’,” Azad mumbled gruffly.
“So you going to put a shirt on, mate?” I said.
“Yeah,” said Azad, and he went back into his bedroom, which I caught a glimpse of and saw it looked like someone had let a gold and silver glitter-bomb off inside, and he came back wearing his slightly shredded tank top from before.
“Okay,” he said, punching his fist into his palm, “The wait’s over. Let’s begin our training.”
“Now?” I said, “You just finished changing into...whatever it is you’ve done to yourself. Don’t you want to hold off and make sure you’re all...adjusted?”
“Best way to find out is through training,” he said.
Azad approached me and stood so that we were shoulder to shoulder, with him facing towards the stairs. He placed a hand on my sinew-suited-shoulder.
“C’mon,” he said, in a low voice, “I’ve been dying to spar with you since we met. Now’s the time.”
“Just a light sparring, okay?” I said, “Just a warm up to start-off our training?”
“Yeah,” said Azad, “We’ll need to clear out the swimming pool first.”
I turned about to face Azad.
“No need,” I said, “Already done it. I took all the rubbish in the pool outside so all it needs is a good clean and we’ve got a great space for training.”
Azad looked so excited all of a sudden he gritted his teeth and balled his hands into fists.
“Yes!” he said, through his gritted teeth.
He jabbed me on the shoulder, which felt like getting whacked with a slab of metal. The sinew-suit soaked up the damage, but I was aware at least that, if I weren’t wearing the suit, the jab might have dislocated my shoulder, or worse.
“Easy,” I said, “The sparring’s not started yet.”
“Yeah you’re right!” said Azad, excitedly.
He broke into giddy laughter and said, “Race you there!”
I couldn’t resist the challenge. Azad threw himself down the stairs and I gave chase. I kept the sinew-suit as normal, not going full-suit mode just yet. Part of me just wanted to keep the next level up of what I could do a surprise for our training session.
Azad fell like a ton of metal towards the bottom step, his foot splintering the wood on impact, though he himself seemed to take no pain or damage from the collision. I noticed, a little to my relief, that compared to me he was pretty slow moving.
I threw myself down the stairs and pursued Azad. Within several flips and jumps off the ceiling and walls I managed to pass Azad and made it through the mansion into the swimming area before he could.
A few moments later his thundering footsteps followed into the swimming pool area. He was grinning broadly, all his attention on me.
He forced his gaze away and looked over the swimming pool area. It looked far clearer and more spacious without any of the junk lying around. The main unsightly part was the layer of blackish grime smearing the tiles.
“So,” I said, “We should look for cleaning supplies and clear up the grime first.”
“Nah,” said Azad, “We’re going to fight in gross places too. Making everything perfect defeats the point.”
I thought about it for a moment then conceded Azad’s point.
“Yeah,” I said, “I guess you’re right.”
Azad jumped into the pool. What he lacked in speed he more than made up for in being a heavy mass that could still move with incredible agility. He dove down, landed at the bottom of the pool with both hands, then, splintering the tiles he struck down on just a bit, he somersaulted over and landed on both feet with his back to me.
He looked over his shoulder at me, still grinning, and then turned his body around.
I approached the edge of the pool.
“So what is it you changed about yourself?” I said, “Besides the charisma upgrade.”
Azad used his closed fist to scratch an itch at the end of his nose.
“Well,” he said, “That presents you with an opportunity, don’t it? If I just tell you then you won’t figure it out for yourself. We’re going to have to learn our enemies abilities on the fly too.”
“Okay,” I said, “So what’s the gameplan? A light sparring session to set the tone?”
“Yeah,” said Azad, “No killing blows.”
“I should hope so,” I said.
Then, entering into a power stance with my closed fists at my waist, I said, “It’s going to be fun to fight you whilst I’m in control of my own body. Are you sure you’re healed enough for this?”
“I’m better than one-hundred percent,” said Azad.
He entered into the same fighting stance I had seen him enter when he had fought the beast. My heart was starting to thump heavily in my chest. A giddy excitement was threatening to get the better of me. It was all so damn cool.
I willed the sinew-suit to completely cover me, which included the addition of the sinew-mask, and skull-cowl. And, finally, more underlying muscle and my height increased to six feet tall. Azad’s gaze stayed on me the entire time, his excitement only increasing as I readied myself for our bout.
There was no need for me to wonder who, out of the two of us, would instigate the first move. Azad raced forward, his bare feet pounding the tiles. He leapt, easily reaching the top edge of the pool, and then kicked off again and set upon me.
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حسين عباس عبد المهدي
Hype!!!
