Chapter 10: Foundations of Preparation
Six more
-------------
For the first time in days, Tyr woke up in a bed.
The cot in Finn's storage room was lumpy, and the blankets smelled faintly of mothballs, but it was far better than sleeping on the ground in the forest or the streets. He stretched, feeling the stiffness in his muscles fade slightly, and sat up.
Sunlight streamed in through a small window, illuminating the cluttered space filled with boxes of inventory, cleaning supplies, and a couple of empty crates. Tyr took a deep breath, letting the quiet of the moment settle over him.
"Not much," Finn had said the night before. But to Tyr, it felt like a palace.
After a quick wash in the tiny bathroom attached to the shop, Tyr stepped into the main store. Finn, a wiry man in his fifties with graying hair and a kind face, was already behind the counter, organizing shelves of canned goods. He looked up as Tyr entered.
"Morning," Finn said, giving him a small smile. "Sleep okay?"
"Yeah," Tyr replied, running a hand through his black hair. "Thanks again for letting me stay here."
Finn waved off the gratitude. "You saved my ass last night. Least I can do. Besides, you've got a good head on your shoulders. Someone's gotta help you get back on your feet."
Tyr felt a twinge of guilt. He hadn't told Finn the truth about himself or his powers. The man deserved to know, but he wasn't ready to reveal that part of himself just yet.
Over the next few weeks, Tyr fell into a routine. He helped Finn around the shop, restocking shelves, organizing inventory, and occasionally acting as security when suspicious characters wandered in.
Finn insisted on paying him for his work, handing him a small wad of cash at the end of each week. "Use this for whatever you need," Finn said. "Food, clothes, books... I don't care, as long as you're taking care of yourself."
Tyr took the advice to heart. He spent his evenings combing through secondhand bookstores and pawnshops, buying anything that could improve his knowledge. His collection of books grew quickly: textbooks on mechanics, biology, chemistry, and electrical engineering piled up in the storage room.
At first, he read them to fill gaps in his education. But as the days went on, he noticed something strange.
He was learning faster than he ever had before. Concepts that should have been complicated—like the intricate workings of motors or the principles of quantum mechanics—came to him with surprising ease.
One evening, as he worked on a small project using spare parts he'd scavenged, Tyr realized just how far he'd come. He had set out to build a simple taser, using salvaged capacitors and wiring. What he created was far more advanced than he'd intended.
The taser was compact but powerful, capable of delivering a precise electric shock strong enough to incapacitate an attacker. It worked perfectly on the first try, something that should have been impossible given his limited tools and resources.
Tyr stared at the finished device, a mix of pride and unease bubbling in his chest.
"This isn't normal," he muttered, turning the device over in his hands.
Theon's memories had given him extensive martial arts skills, but his aptitude for building things was all his own. Whatever had changed within him after TOAA's intervention, it had enhanced this part of him as well.
"I don't just understand this stuff," Tyr said quietly, his violet eyes narrowing. "I see how it fits together... like it's second nature."
It was a gift, one he decided to embrace.
The next morning, he showed the taser to Finn. The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow as he inspected the device.
"What's this?" Finn asked.
"Taser," Tyr replied. "You press the button, aim, and it'll deliver a shock strong enough to drop someone twice your size."
Finn frowned. "And you made this... with spare parts?"
Tyr nodded. "Thought you could use it. You know, in case anyone tries to shake you down again."
Finn stared at him for a long moment, then let out a low whistle. "Kid, you're full of surprises. You know that? I've seen some clever people in my time, but this..." He gestured to the taser. "This is something else. You're like a young Tony Stark."
The comparison made Tyr pause. Tony Stark. In less than two years, the man would become Iron Man, kicking off a chain of events that would change the world forever. The thought sent a chill down Tyr's spine.
"Thanks," Tyr said finally, though his mind was elsewhere.
He couldn't afford to waste time. Every day that passed was another step closer to the arrival of superheroes, villains, and the chaos that came with them. If he wanted to survive, he needed to be prepared.
That meant more than just building devices. It also meant having an identity.
For weeks, Tyr had been living as a ghost, earning cash under the table from Finn and avoiding any situation that required identification. But if he wanted to operate in this world long-term, he needed to stop being invisible.
One evening, as they closed up the shop, Tyr approached Finn.
"Finn," he said carefully, "do you know anyone who can help me get an ID?"
Finn glanced at him, his expression unreadable. "An ID, huh?"
Tyr nodded. "Something legit. Something that'll last."
Finn rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It's not gonna be cheap. You'll need more than just a piece of plastic. Social security number, birth certificate, the works."
"That's why I'm asking you," Tyr said. "I figured you'd know someone who could help."
Finn's lips quirked into a small smile. "You're lucky, kid. I do know a guy. Owes me a favor, actually. I can set up a meeting, but it'll take about a month."
Relief flooded Tyr's chest. "Thanks, Finn. I appreciate it."
"Don't mention it," Finn said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Just don't screw it up, alright?"
---
True to his word, Finn arranged the meeting. A month later, Tyr met with a quiet, sharp-eyed man who worked in a dimly lit backroom filled with printers and computers. The process was quick and efficient. By the end of the day, Tyr had a brand-new identity: Tyr Sinclair, age sixteen, with Finn listed as his guardian.
The ID was flawless, down to the government records backing it up. It was the kind of identity that could withstand scrutiny for decades, maybe even a lifetime.
When Finn handed it to him, Tyr stared at the card for a long moment, his chest tightening.
"Looks good," Finn said, studying Tyr's face. "You alright, kid?"
"Yeah," Tyr replied, slipping the ID into his pocket. "Thanks, Finn. For everything."
With the ID in hand, Tyr felt a sense of security he hadn't known since leaving the orphanage. It was one less thing to worry about, one more step toward stability.
---
Tyr's focus shifted back to preparation. He spent hours in the storage room, tinkering with his creations and honing his skills. The taser he had made for Finn was just the beginning. Using his growing knowledge, he built more defensive devices: motion-triggered alarms, smoke bombs, and reinforced tools that could double as weapons in a pinch.
His abilities were improving, too. Through constant practice, Tyr had pushed his telekinesis to new limits. He could now lift objects weighing up to a kilogram, though it took significant effort.
One night, as he practiced moving a heavy wrench across the room, he paused to catch his breath. The wrench hovered unsteadily in the air before dropping with a loud clang.
"I'm getting there," Tyr muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow.
The progress was slow, but it was progress.
As his skills grew, so did his thoughts about the future. Tyr often found himself staring out the window at the bustling city streets, wondering if he could do more.
The memories he carried from Theon had given him a sense of right and wrong, and the fight against Hydra had solidified his hatred for those who preyed on the innocent.
'Maybe I could do something,' Tyr thought one evening as he watched a news report about rising crime rates in the city.
The idea of vigilantism was tempting. With his training, his gadgets, and his budding powers, he could make a difference. But it was a dangerous path, one that could draw attention from the wrong people.
Tyr leaned back in his chair, his violet eyes thoughtful.
"I need to be ready," he said softly. "Before I take any steps, I need to be sure."
For now, he would focus on building, training, and preparing. But the thought lingered in his mind, a spark waiting to ignite.