Marvel System In The Boys

Derek stirred awake from another night of restless sleep. His body felt… different. Not in a drastic way, but more like his senses were sharper, more attuned to everything around him. The previous night had been filled with training—long, grueling hours where he pushed himself to the edge of his limits, trying to integrate the powers of Thor, becoming one with the lightning, the strength, the flight. And yet, this morning, it was as if his body had adjusted faster than usual.

The soreness in his muscles was minimal, almost gone. The dull ache that had plagued him since the fight with Homelander was now a distant memory. Rising from his makeshift bed in the safe house Eric had provided, Derek stretched, feeling the tension release from his limbs. He flexed his fingers, and lightning crackled at his fingertips with an intensity he hadn't been able to control before.

"What the hell?" Derek muttered to himself, narrowing his eyes at the sparks dancing across his skin. Something was different. Something was changing.

The system interface pinged to life in his mind, a familiar voice chiming in, seemingly in response to his confusion.

**[System upgrading… Current template: Thor. New ability integration in progress.]**

Derek frowned. He hadn't triggered anything. Hadn't asked for an upgrade. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice echoing through the empty room.

**[User has reached sufficient experience and progress points to trigger an automatic upgrade. System optimization includes enhancement of existing abilities and integration of new powers.]**

Derek blinked. He had forgotten about the auto-spin feature. He had set the system to that mode when he first started using it, figuring it would maximize efficiency, but now he wondered if that was a mistake. He hadn't known what powers he was going to get or how they'd manifest. And now, some unknown ability was being integrated into his existing template.

The crackling electricity calmed as he took a deep breath, trying to center himself. Maybe this would be a good thing. After all, he needed every advantage he could get if he ever wanted to stand a chance against Homelander again. But the unpredictability made him uneasy. What kind of ability was he getting? He'd soon find out.

As Derek went about his morning routine, trying to shake off the strange feeling, he flipped on the small TV in the corner of the room. It was a lifeline to the outside world, especially since he was in hiding. The news was filled with the usual stories about Vought, The Seven, and the growing adoration for the Supes across America.

But something different flashed on the screen this time.

"Breaking news," the anchor said, her face somber. "In a tragic accident, Robin Ward, a young woman from Queens, was killed yesterday in what authorities are calling a Supes-related incident. Her boyfriend, Hugh Campbell, has filed an official complaint against A-Train, claiming that the speedster was responsible for her death."

Derek froze. A-Train. He had seen that name before, heard it whispered in the same circles where Homelander's name carried weight. But this was something new. He watched as footage of Hughie flashed on the screen, his face gaunt and hollow. Derek recognized the look. It was the same look he had seen in his own reflection after Valerie's death—the look of a man who had lost everything in an instant.

"He's just like me," Derek whispered to himself, feeling a connection to the man on the screen. Hughie wasn't part of any of this, wasn't a hero, wasn't even remotely close to the world of Supes, but now he was being thrust into it against his will. It was the same helplessness Derek had felt when Homelander ripped Valerie away from him.

The report continued, but Derek wasn't listening anymore. His mind raced, piecing together what this could mean. The world was starting to shift, and if Hughie was filing a complaint against A-Train, that meant someone—maybe Butcher—was pulling strings behind the scenes.

Derek clenched his fists. He had to be ready. The wheels of the plot were turning, and he needed to be prepared for whatever came next.

The phone rang just as Derek finished his third cup of coffee. He glanced at the screen—Eric. With a sigh, he picked up, already expecting the tech genius to have some new intel or cautionary advice.

"Eric," Derek greeted, his voice tired.

"Derek, we need to talk," Eric's voice was unusually tense, lacking its usual flippant tone. "I've been picking up chatter about you. Vought's got your name on their watch list. You're lucky they haven't sent someone after you yet."

Derek frowned, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Why haven't they? And how did they know that I am still alive?"

"Probably because Homelander's the only one who knows for sure you're alive and threat. He probably found out about you, since there was no other body at that site. But for some reason he's keeping it quiet, for now," Eric explained. "But that won't last forever. You need to lay low, really low. No more of this wandering around town like a lost puppy."

"I'm not hiding forever, Eric. I've got a score to settle."

"I know," Eric sighed.

Later that evening, Derek found himself pacing the safe house, waiting for the cover of darkness to make his move. His body still felt strange—like it was on the edge of something big. The system hadn't given him any more information, but the subtle changes in his abilities were becoming more apparent. He could control the lightning with greater ease, channel the strength of Thor without the constant need for focus.

But it wasn't just that.

Standing in front of the small bathroom mirror, Derek examined his reflection. His face, weathered from weeks of hiding and training, stared back at him. But as he leaned closer, something bizarre happened. His skin… shifted. Just for a moment, his features blurred, as though he were looking at himself through rippling water.

"What the…?" Derek reached up, touching his face, but it was solid. Normal. Yet, there had been a shift—he was sure of it.

The system chimed in, startling him.

**[New power unlocked: Shapeshifting.]**

Derek's eyes widened. "Shapeshifting?" he muttered in disbelief. That wasn't part of Thor's power set.

**[New power integrated from auto-spin. Power mimics abilities of the mutant known as Mystique. User can now alter physical appearance at will.]**

Derek stood there, stunned. He stared at his reflection again, concentrating. His face flickered, his hair shortened, then lengthened, then turned a shade of blonde. He stepped back, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Well, this changes things," he whispered to himself, a grin forming on his lips. With shapeshifting, he could hide in plain sight, infiltrate Vought, get close to The Seven, even Homelander, without them knowing. This was a game-changer.

But there was a darker thought that lurked in the back of his mind. What if he lost himself in these new forms? What if he became someone else entirely?

Shaking the thought away, Derek knew one thing for sure—this was the power he needed to survive, to fight back, and to eventually take Homelander down. And now, the real training could begin.

Derek stood on the rooftop of the safe house, the cool night air ruffling his hair. He had spent the last few hours trying to wrap his head around this new power—the ability to shapeshift. At first, it was disorienting, but the more he practiced, the more natural it felt. His body morphed at will, his features changing like a liquid surface reflecting different people.

At one point, he had turned into Eric, and the resemblance had been uncanny. Every detail, from the crooked smile to the slight slouch in posture, was exact. He had even mimicked the voice, which was unsettling in its precision. But what truly excited Derek was the potential this power held. He could be anyone, get into any place, hear any secret.

He stared at his reflection in the glass of the building, his face now that of a random pedestrian he had passed on the street days before. "This could be useful," he murmured to himself. With the threat of Homelander hanging over his head, being able to disappear into the crowd was the best advantage he could ask for.

But there was more to this. The system hadn't just given him the power of disguise—it had upgraded everything. His control over Thor's lightning had sharpened, his strength was more fluid, and his stamina had increased. He was becoming something more, something different from Thor. The power of shapeshifting seemed almost symbolic—he was evolving, changing not just physically but in his role in this world.

The TV from inside the safe house flashed with another news update, but this time, it wasn't about Hughie or A-Train. It was about the world celebrating Starlight's induction into The Seven. She looked as innocent as ever, bright-eyed and full of hope, unaware of the hell she was about to walk into.

Derek's heart tightened. He remembered that part of the story vividly. Starlight, who still believed she could make a difference, would soon be crushed under the weight of Vought's corruption. He wondered how it would be different now that he was here. Could he intervene? Could he help her?

It wasn't his fight—not yet. But the idea of her suffering in that world felt wrong. He had the power now. He could make a difference, just like she wanted to.

"Maybe I can change more than just myself," Derek muttered. He pushed the thought aside for now, focusing back on his training. There was still a long way to go before he could take action.

Over the next few weeks, Derek pushed himself harder than he ever had before. Eric's underground facility was perfect for his needs—a massive, open space lined with reinforced walls and ceilings. He spent his days honing the powers of Thor, finding new ways to wield the lightning. He learned to control the storms that brewed within him, calling forth thunder and lightning with ease.

Flight, too, was becoming second nature. He could now soar through the underground space with speed and precision, stopping mid-air and hovering as if it were the most natural thing in the world. But it wasn't just about raw power. Derek knew that if he ever wanted to take on Homelander again, he needed more than brute strength. He needed strategy, control, and mastery over every ability he had.

And then, of course, there was the shapeshifting.

At first, Derek had seen it merely as a means of hiding—something to use when he needed to lay low. But the more he used it, the more he realized its true potential. He could adapt to any situation, infiltrate any group, gain the trust of anyone. And with each new form came new possibilities.

One night, after hours of grueling physical training, Derek found himself experimenting with the limits of his new power. Standing in front of the underground facility's reflective wall, he concentrated, shifting into various shapes—men, women, tall, short. He could even mimic voices now, down to the inflection.

"What else can I do?" he wondered aloud, his voice now that of Eric's.

The system responded in his mind.

**[Shapeshifting ability fully integrated. User can now mimic any human form, voice, and mannerism. Advanced training required to mimic non-human abilities.]**

Non-human abilities? Derek blinked at that, realizing the system meant that if he worked hard enough, he could even mimic certain Supe traits. That meant he could walk among them, maybe even blend into The Seven if the need ever arose.

"That's… insane," he muttered. The possibilities were endless.

Another week passed, and Derek had grown more comfortable with his shapeshifting powers, though the enormity of what it meant still weighed on him. He was no longer bound by a single identity. He was whoever he needed to be. But at the same time, it raised questions of morality, of losing oneself in the power.

Late one evening, as he rested after another brutal training session, Derek sat in front of the TV, flipping through channels mindlessly. He was just about to turn it off when a news report caught his attention. The screen displayed images of Hughie again, this time outside a police station. It looked like he was about to go inside.

"The complaint against A-Train has been filed, but it seems to be going nowhere," the reporter said, standing in front of the station. "Authorities are not commenting on the case, and Vought has denied all responsibility. We'll update you with more information as it becomes available."

Derek leaned forward, his interest piqued. This was it. The plot was beginning to unfold—the same events he remembered from the show. But now that he was here, in this world, he couldn't sit back and watch it unfold like he had before.

"Hughie's in over his head," Derek muttered. He couldn't just sit here in the safe house, training, while the world around him spiraled into chaos.

He had to be smarter this time. He had to play this right. The same recklessness that got him and Valerie killed wouldn't happen again. Derek stood, pacing the room, thinking through his next steps. Hughie would soon be pulled into Butcher's world, and when that happened, things would get serious fast.

Derek needed to be ready for that. He needed to be stronger. The plot was moving forward, and soon he'd have to decide whether to interfere or stay hidden.

The next morning, Derek woke up to the familiar chime of the system in his mind. He had grown used to the system's presence, the way it occasionally alerted him to new abilities or important milestones. But today, there was something different in its tone.

[Warning: Vought activity detected near your location.]

Derek's eyes shot open. He bolted upright, his mind racing. "Vought? Here?"

The system didn't give much more information, but it was enough to set Derek on edge. Had Homelander found him already? Was it someone else, maybe a lower-tier Supe sent to scope out potential threats? He didn't know, but the thought of Vought being anywhere near him made his blood run cold.

Grabbing his jacket, Derek prepared to leave the safe house. If Vought was anywhere close, he needed to move, and fast. He couldn't afford to be caught off guard.

As he slipped out of the building, Derek shifted into a nondescript form, his face now that of a random guy he had seen at a coffee shop earlier in the week. His heart pounded as he darted into the streets, his eyes scanning every corner for signs of trouble.

Whatever Vought was planning, he needed to stay ahead of them. The city was a dangerous place, especially for someone like him. But Derek knew one thing for sure—he wasn't the same man who had been killed by Homelander. He was stronger now, smarter, and with his new powers, he had a chance to take control of his fate.

As he disappeared into the crowd, blending seamlessly with the people around him, Derek smiled grimly. Vought might be watching, but they had no idea who they were dealing with.

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