Ascension: The One Who Takes

Power wasn't enough. Strength alone didn't grant control—it only made people fear you. I needed more than that. I needed influence. A presence.

The streets pulsed with life, people moving through their mundane routines, unaware of the undercurrents beneath them. But I saw them.

Mutants were feared, hunted, used. That meant there was a market for someone like me. A fixer. A problem-solver.

I started small. A rumor here, a whisper there. I moved through the underworld, keeping my ears open, my presence understated but known. I didn't force myself onto the scene—I let the right people come to me. The first job was a test run. A low-level corporate executive with a mutant employee who had gotten… problematic. The man wanted it "handled," but he didn't want the kind of attention that came from involving official channels.

Perfect.

The mutant in question had some low level ability, barely anything dangerous. He wasn't even resisting. But it wasn't about the difficulty—it was about setting the tone. I approached the situation cleanly, no mess, no loose ends. By the time I was done, the executive had what he wanted, and I had my payment. I also had something else—his ability.

That was how I operated. I never walked away empty-handed.

Word spread. More jobs followed. A mutant gang needed protection against a rival crew. A scientist working underground required a rare component smuggled past government oversight. A collector wanted a particularly dangerous mutant artifact retrieved. Each job was an opportunity—to test my limits, refine my skills, and, more importantly, spread my name through the right circles.

I chose my clients carefully. The desperate, the powerful, those willing to keep secrets. I didn't just want money—I wanted connections, leverage, and fear.The first time I made someone disappear without a trace, my reputation skyrocketed. No loose ends, no witnesses, no body. Just the understanding that if I came for you, it was already over.

Then came the moment I solidified my name.

A broker I'd been working with—some rat who thought he could leverage my talents—asked me something directly for the first time.

"What do I call you?"

It had to be something simple. Something that carried meaning.

"Call me All For One."

It started as a statement. Then it became a demand. And soon, it became a title.

Fear. Respect. A force to be reckoned with.

From then on, people spoke of me differently. I wasn't just a mutant with stolen abilities—I was a power in my own right.

And power was a currency I never stopped collecting.

Every mutant I encountered, I studied. I assessed their abilities, their strengths, and most importantly, their weaknesses. Some were useful allies—for now. Others? Their abilities were better served in my hands. They didn't even realize what had happened until it was too late.

But I was selective. I didn't take just anything. I wouldn't make the same mistake as the other All For One. He was powerful, yes—versatile beyond belief. But too many abilities meant clutter, weaknesses, contradictions. I wasn't interested in being a walking arsenal. I was building something better.

The first ability I took was Enhanced Stamina. A mutant who could fight for hours, barely slowing down, pushing through injuries most wouldn't survive. He thought endurance made him invincible. Now, it made me stronger.

Then came something more interesting: Energy Storage. A woman who absorbed kinetic energy and released it in bursts. She used it defensively. I used it as a weapon. Every strike that hit me, every impact I absorbed, became fuel.

Another had Minor Density Shifting, allowing him to become slightly heavier or lighter at will. He barely understood its potential. I did. More weight meant stronger blows. Less weight meant speed. A small ability, but in my hands, it had purpose.

Some were more passive—Oxygen Efficiency. A diver mutant who could hold his breath for unnatural amounts of time. It wasn't flashy, but it had its uses. Battles weren't just about power. They were about endurance.

I refused to take weak or redundant abilities. I wasn't collecting powers—I was curating them. Every ability had a place. Nothing wasted, nothing unnecessary. The pieces fit together like a perfected machine. I wasn't just growing stronger.

I was becoming unstoppable.

Through all of this, Kurt remained at my side. Watching. Learning. Adapting. He wasn't just following me—he was believing in me.

And that was fine. Let him believe.

But influence wasn't enough. If I wanted true power, I needed understanding.

Mutations weren't just gifts—they were codes waiting to be cracked. I had already felt my abilities evolving, but I needed refinement. Someone who could study me, improve me, push me beyond my limits.

I needed a scientist.

And I already had a lead.

Ascension continues.

Note: This process took six months. Six months of refining his craft, building his influence, and perfecting his arsenal. The world was starting to take notice.