Marvel: Infinite Potential

In the dim gym, Noah stood in his familiar stance, focusing on absorbing every impact Peter's punches threw his way.

Noah's muscles were taking a serious beating; his back, arms, and thighs were bruised, and his chest had taken the worst of it. Hours into the workout, his skin split in places, bleeding and raw. But despite the gruesome look, he kept his stance, eyes fixed on the ground as if trying to hold the world up on his shoulders.

After another half hour, Peter, now drained beyond exhaustion, threw down the steel rod he had been wielding. Panting, he slumped onto the floor next to Noah, who was still steady.

"Giving up already?" Noah asked, raising an eyebrow, sounding almost disappointed. His voice came out calm, almost mocking as he eyed his friend.

Peter let out a shaky laugh, rubbing his sore arms. "Man, I've whacked you over 10,000 times, and I feel like I've been through a blender. You're still on your feet! How are you even still conscious?"

Noah chuckled, glancing at Peter, who was looking at him with the awe one might reserve for a sci-fi hero. "Guess you're not cut out for intense training yet, young blood."

Peter groaned, flopping onto his back, breathing hard. "I'm gonna have a tough time explaining these bruises. It's like I got run over by a truck."

Taking pity on him, Noah replied, "Well, that's good. You've got until tomorrow after school to shake it off before we're back here at it. You're on the clock, Parker."

Peter's heart sank a bit, though he couldn't help but admire the intensity his friend brought. He had no doubt the workout was pushing his limits and knew he would benefit from it. The extra 20 grand Noah had offered to sweeten the deal kept him from walking away.

As they continued, Peter noticed something strange — he wasn't just getting tired; he could feel his own strength and endurance gradually increasing. He was reaching deeper reserves, feeling his body adapt to the rigorous assault. Each blow, each exercise, seemed to unlock a new level of stamina and reflex.

By ten that night, Peter was genuinely committed. He was starting to see the appeal in Noah's relentless training. When they wrapped up at 11, Peter finally staggered out of the gym, barely able to stand. Noah, however, wasn't done. Once his experience pack had left, he picked up his training right where they had left off, his eyes alight with a single-minded intensity.

In one day, his endurance levels had skyrocketed. With Peter's help, Noah's physical experience bar had leapt from 1.7 to 1.9, and he could feel his power increasing with every session. The potential for tomorrow was a thrill in itself.

Once Peter had left, Noah set aside his weights and focused his energy on something more intricate. His next goal was to write out the Zixia divine technique he intended to teach Smith. With his mind sharpened by his progress, he got to work, his memory and attention to detail far surpassing normal limits.

In just two hours, he had recreated the entire Zixia Divine Art, complete with annotations that would ensure Smith got the most out of it. As he put the notes away, Noah's wounds were already beginning to close up. Within a few hours, he would be entirely healed, his body functioning at levels no normal human could achieve.

"No sleep needed anymore, huh?" he muttered to himself, realizing that his body was regenerating at a rate faster than his need for rest. Grabbing his weights, Noah returned to his drills, sparing no time in getting stronger.

Late that night, New York City fell silent as most people drifted off to sleep, unaware of what lurked in the shadows.

In a dim hallway of a Brooklyn apartment, the body of a young woman was sprawled near the door, her skin pale and shriveled. Her glassy eyes stared out in horror, two bloody holes marking her neck.

A tall, imposing man approached, bending down to examine her. Standing around six feet two, he wore a trench coat over a shirt with a skull emblazoned across the chest. With his slicked-back hair and piercing blue eyes, he looked both terrifying and resolute.

The man muttered under his breath, disgusted, "Another bloodsucker victim."

Frustrated, he rose to his full height, tapping his fingers over his phone before dialing a number. After a couple of rings, a voice answered.

"Hey, Victor, need something?" It was Matt, his friend and partner, sounding groggy.

"Matt, when are you going to be back on your feet? I've got a full-blown vampiric infestation here, and I could use a backup."

From the other end of the line, Matt sighed, "I'm still recovering, man. It'll be at least two weeks before I'm out of this hospital bed."

Victor's voice was low and tense. "These bloodsuckers are getting bold, attacking without pattern or reason. Seven bodies have shown up this month alone. I feel like something's coming."

"Shouldn't Blade be handling this? Vampires are his territory, right?"

Victor scoffed. "Tried reaching him — radio silence. Which is why I called you. You're the only one who knows how to handle things when they get out of hand."

Matt thought for a moment. "You know, there's a guy I recently heard about. Kind of a vigilante-in-training. He's been in the news — superpower potential—but still new to the scene. I thought he might be worth bringing into the fold."

Victor's silence lasted a beat longer than comfortable. "I don't like working with rookies."

"Well, your other option is that mysterious guy everyone's talking about. The one who cleared out three gangs in two days. But good luck finding him. He's off the radar and practically untouchable."

Victor's eyes narrowed as he hung up, deep in thought.

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So, this is my first time doing this. I hope you guys can help me improve by providing your feedback. Some stones would be nice. (づ ◕_◕ )づ