Just Built Different

Chapter 1: Max Barrett

Age: Fresh from the Womb

The newly appointed mother and father stared down at their newborn son with tearful smiles. "He's perfect." The father says, gently rubbing his hand through his son's already full head of dark brown hair.

The mother had tears running down her smile stretched cheeks. "Max." She said, watching her son lovingly before looking up to her husband with the smile he hasn't seen since their marriage. "His name is Max."

His own smile became even wider. "It's perfect."

The mother hefted the large boy up and down gently. "Quite the heavy boy isn't he?"

"He is." The doctor that delivered the child walked up to them, a clipboard in hand. "Average newborns vary around seven and a half pounds. Your child is thirteen pounds." He wrote a few things down on his clipboard. "If you wouldn't mind, miss, but I would like to perform some tests on him. Is that ok?"

Age: 3 years and 1 week since birth.

Katelyn watched ever so carefully over her son. His toddler hands gingerly grasping either end of a book, his eyes darting rapidly over the pages. He turned the page, displaying finely tuned motor skills children his age shouldn't have yet. And not to mention his capability to fly through seemingly any book placed in front of him.

"Done!" He suddenly shouted, slamming the book down on the floor.

She stared down at him. "Did you understand it all?"

He grinned up at her as he nodded. "This one was too easy. I'm going to need better books." He got up and walked off to the kitchen, likely to pester Matt into making dinner faster.

She stared down at the discarded book laying on the carpet. On the cover was printed 'The Inventions, Researches, and Writings of Nikola Tesla'. At five hundred and twelve pages of illustrations, writings, and other explanations about Tesla and electrical engineering in general, it was the most advanced book she could find in the local library and he finished it in less than fourty minutes. She was worried that he might be developing too fast, but the good doctor had assured her that there was no such thing.

Flashback, two years ago...

"Mister and misses Barrett, your son is extraordinary! Mentally speaking his cognitive function is much greater than kids ten times his age. He might grow up to be a great scientist one day! Rest assured his mind is developing just fine and there is absolutely nothing to worry about." He switched to another page of the stack of papers in his hands. The thick pile was dedicated entirely to their son. "His physical development is coming along nicely too, if not noticeably faster than other children. But, again, there's nothing to worry about. It will sort itself out later on it's own."


Considering what she just witnessed she realized that if she wants her son's development to continue at the rate it is now then they will need to get consistently more sophisticated books as time goes on. Or maybe it was finally time for a computer.

She sighed.

"Looks like I need to work more hours." It was also probably time for Matt to find a way to start pulling in more money too. Being paid by the neighbors to occasionally fix their things won't be enough help in a few years time if the bills keep building as they are now.

Age: 7 years and 2 months since birth...

Ever since they got the computer and internet router things have been noticeably easier. They weren't a wealthy family, only living in a lower end apartment with the only electrical appliances being a few lights, one phone in the corner of the main room, and the near ancient washing machine for their clothes in the back room. Every thing else was painfully manual.

However, lately the parents have noticed that they had money that wasn't there before. In fact, it started a few days after obtaining the computer. Matt had been going over their finances when he noticed that there was a few extra hundred dollars instead of their predicted savings. He had confronted his wife about it. "Where did all this extra money come from?"

However, his question served only to confuse her. "What extra money?"

And thus, for the next handful of years the influx of the mystery money had steadily grown until they had more money than they've ever had before. "Where is it all coming from?" They would question occasionally but the answer never came.

Until one day.

Seven year old Max, standing at five feet in height and weighing eighty seven pounds, was exceptionally large for his age. Or 'giant' as the other children often called him. His acute attention to detail allowed him to notice at an earlier age that both other children and adults were weary of him. The children's weariness was born from fear where as the adult's came from confusion and worry. When his parents finally got the computer his entire view of the pursuit of knowledge had changed. Near unlimited access to most of humanity's knowledge was a complete game changer.

No longer relying on books, he had sold them all after creating his own banking website in the deeper areas of the web. Oh yeah, he had learned how to create websites and had taken up programming. It was pretty easy, especially for someone of his intellect. You might be asking "Isn't it dangerous to access the deep web on your main computer?" And the answer is yes, it is. But don't worry, he had done plenty of research before hand and had taken the necessary steps of preventing unwelcome visitors from gaining access to his computer.

Within the spam of a few hours he had developed a program that was, for a lack of a better example, NordVPN on steroids. It's ability to block off anyone's attemps to locate his signal and fight off any attempted hacking outmatched even the system security measures that The Pentagon itself has employed.

The money he received from selling his books had gone into what he would later consider to be his first experiment.

Online Horse Race gambling.

And thus, for the first time in his life he had been wrong about something. Cautious, he had put down only a fraction of his book money on what he believed at the time was the horse he thought would win.

He was wrong.

Very wrong.

His chosen horse had almost come in last place.

Only slightly annoyed at his first time being wrong, he had gone ahead and performed intense research on the next race. Noble Flash was the name of the horse he chose. The next race was going to be muddy. And Noble Flash loves running in the mud. He's a mudder. His father was a mudder. His mother was a mudder. Sure of his choice, he put down every last cent he had left on his favored horse.

Noble Flash had won by a solid twelve feet in front of the follow up second place holder. His winnings was enough to ensure he wouldn't have to bet again, which was fine by him. He decided that he hated gambling anyway. After that a continuous series of smart investments had lead to his eventual transfer to an actual legal online bank on the surface web. He had left his technically illegal deep web bank with a sufficiently weakened security system, a single dollar, and a note for the first hacker to successfully gain access saying "Buy yourself something nice."

Oh yeah, an arguably unfortunate personality trait he has developed is his rather strong desire to fuck around with people while laughing at them for their stupidity whenever the opportunity presents itself.

Despite his strong connection with logic and necessities, he completely understands and feels very strongly for the appreciation he has for his parents. Causing him to donate a generous percentage of his income to them.

But that didn't matter right now. What did matter is the current situation.

"You've been behind this the whole time?"

Ah yes, they were referring to his work in helping out in their finances.

This is going to be a long talk.

Age: 16 years and 4 months since birth...

'Ballroom Blitz' by Sweet played over the speakers in the garage. Max was hunched over an engine, disassembling it for it's scheduled maintenance. The engine in question was an old 283 V8 that belonged to his prized possession, a 1957 Chevy Bel Air.

The door to his left opened and his father stepped through, a phone in his hand.

"Son!" He yelled over the noise of the music and mechanical racket.

Max gave a sharp whistle and the music being played from his computer turned itself down, exactly as programmed. He placed his tools on the wooden table next to the sparkplugs and several bolts of various sizes and lengths. He turned to his dad, a small smile on his face.


His father, Matt, held out the phone to him with a frown. "I know you don't like being disturbed while you work on your car but that...guy that works for you called."

"John?" Max asked as he took the phone, his smile no longer present. He turned his back to Matt and walked over to his car. "Yeah, John?"

Matt could hear the voice of the man from the speaker, but he couldn't make out what he was saying.

"Delay the merger." His son suddenly spoke up, interrupting the voice. "Coulson thinks he can make a power grab if the merge goes quickly. Don't let it happen. If he gains any power in my company he'll try and run it into the ground." The voice spoke up again. "Yes, he will. You know he hates me."

Matt already knew Max was having trouble with a number of people. Or rather, other people were having trouble with him. Max almost never seemed bothered by anything, not even those trying to challenge him. If anything he appeared pleased at the prospect of revealing just how outmatched they are in terms of intelligence. But even with all that he was quite a nice guy. Approachable, easy to get along with, and quite aware of his conversational partners. Merely being in his presence seemed to be enough for him to know what kind of person you are and what topics should be avoided lest he causes unwanted anger towards him. Most people appeared to be an open book to him.

"It's not my fault that he nearly bankrupted his company trying to catch up to me. Look, if he proves to be more trouble than he's worth then just get rid of him. Give him one strike, one chance and if he tries anything then kick his ass to the curb."

Matt knew that Max had an unfortunate tendency to curse. But he atleast has the decency to keep it in check when around family and certain people. Unfortunately he does slip up every once in a while.

He smiled.

His son had done a lot of growing up in the last several years. He now stood at six foot ten inches and weighed four hundred and thirty one pounds. Far far larger and heavier than most of his known ancestry. No one else in the family even comes close to his size or weight. Matt personally stood at a respectable five foot eleven inches and Katelyn was at an average five foot four.

"Yeah, see you too." Max hung up the phone then turned around and walked back over to his father, the smile from before back on his face.

"How's business?" Matt asked. His frown having made an unfortunate comeback.

Max threw his hands up with a wide grin. "Boomin'!"

Matt's frown didn't waver. Max knew something was up.

"Son... We need to talk."

Max's smile didn't move either, stuck firmly in place, he already knew what the problem his father wanted to talk about. It won't be the first time he brought it up and it probably won't be the last.

"With this company of yours, I think your growing a little fast."

"A little?"

"Son. You started your company only two years ago, and somehow you already turned it into a multimillion dollar-"

"Actually it's a billion dollar company now." Max's expression had turned slightly nervous, having both interrupted and corrected his father mid-sentence. But it was necessary, if his dad was going to lecture him about his company then he should atleast first posses the up-to-date facts.

Matt's left eye twitched. Whether it was in irritation or shock neither of them knew. He drew in a breath then let it out in a slow sigh. "All this power and money you're suddenly accumulating, all these government and military contracts, it gets to your head. You need to be careful."

"I am being careful. Dad, I may not have the experience to protect myself from these sorts of things but my intelligence more than makes up for it. Mistakes made by people with experience are mistakes that I simply can't make because of how careful and thorough I am. Despite how I make it seem sometimes I actually am doing what I can to ensure the best possible outcome with everything I do."

Matt didn't know how to respond. His entire argument was dismantled before his very eyes. His son was already taking every necessary measure to do what he had to. He clenched his jaw. "I...see. I'm..sorry for bothering you."

Max gave him an award winning smile. "You weren't bothering me, Dad. You were just looking out for me. I completely understand." He clapped his father on the shoulder. Causing Matt to nearly fall from the blow. He brought him into a hug, forcing the air from his dad's lungs with his ridiculous strength.

Matt laughed. Even with all that brain power he managed to hold just as much brawn. He had seen his son lift things by himself that Matt knew would require three average men to lift. The doctor from before had seriously underexaggerated Max's future physical growth.

He laughed again. "Well, I guess I better get started on lunch then." He turned and walked back over to the garage door. But before he walked through he turned back and saw Max sitting down in his chair, the one in front of his brand new laptop. He pressed a few keys causing the screen to change over to a camera view of himself. With a smile he began. "Good afternoon everyone. Welcome back to another live stream episode. Today we're going over the carburetor and the entire air induction system of my fifty seven Bel Air.

Age: 18 years and 1 day since birth. A birthday hunting trip...

In hindsight Max realized he really should have gotten something a bit bigger than some tiny .22 bolt action. It was actually for his dad but he did not realize at the time that he himself would be using it. The look on Matt's face when Max brought out his own rifle was quite funny. The .50 Barrett M82 was remarkably light in his large hands despite it's size and weight as he presented the Anti-Material rifle to his father as if he was presenting a fashion model.

Matt gave the weapon a long hard look before meeting Max's eyes. "No. We're here to hunt deer, not blow up their heads."

"That's ok, I can graze the top of their heads and kill them with the shockwave brought to their flesh and nerves system."

" No." Matt was now full on glaring at Max. His tone one of finality. "Put that away before your mother sees it and grab something else.

Oh yeah, mom came with them to the hunting cabin. She was currently inside fixing the place up for when they came back with dinner.

"Fine. Fine." He placed the gun back in it's container, a polished wooden box with a stainless steel plate on top with " Ol' Reliable" engraved into it. The inside was just a block of foam with a cutout that perfectly fit the M82. Walking over to his father's truck he began grumbling to himself. "If I shoot them in the neck they won't explode and there's no wasted material. But will he listen? No. He won't." Returning the gun to the truck he grabbed the .22 and walked back over. This time instead of a nice wooden box it was a simple rifle bag that came free with the much smaller gun. The weapon was comically small in his hands and felt like it weighed as much as a feather, causing his dad to laugh at him.

Max grumbled again. "I feel humiliated."

"Then why did you get it?" Matt asked through his laughter with a hand held over his mouth.

"It was supposed to be for you. But now I think I'll just get you some unreliable french crap."

"Please God no."

"Or maybe something Japanese. How does a nambu sound?"

"Please no."

Max smiled. He was really enjoying his time with his dad. "You know I could get you one of..." He nodded to the truck.

Matt had to suppress a smile. "As much as I would like to have one I really don't like the idea of dislocating my shoulder everytime I fire the damn thing. I'm not you after all."

Max rolled his eyes. "First of all it doesn't have the kick to dislocate your shoulder, that's just a common misconception. It's recoil system absorbs enough of the kick to shoulder fire it no problem.

With a roll of his eyes, Matt merely turned around and began his treck into the woods, his grandfather's old rifle slung over his shoulder. "I am perfectly happy with what I have." He reached up and patted the Model 70 Winchester's barrel. "This thing wasn't called ' Bolt action Rifle of the Century' for nothing."

This time it was Max who rolled his eyes before following after his father. "I know. It's a great rifle but that was last century. We have far greater and more well made rifles in this century that I could easily get you." He came up to the right of Matt and pulled the old gun off his father's shoulder. "This old thing hasn't seen a single second of maintenance in probably a decade or two. If you'd like I could go and perform a complete rebuild and clean the whole thing for you." He grinned. "Free of charge of course." Of course he would never in a million years charge his parents for anything when he could casually pay for it all and not put a scratch on the enormous pile of cash he has lying around. What kind of filthy rich son would he be if he allowed his parents to worry about something as stressful as finances? Unfortunately they had a tendency to reject his offers of currency at most turns, insisting that they "have it covered" and "you don't have to worry about us".

This is, of course, false. He will never tell them this but he keeps a very close eye on his parents and knew for a fact that they occasionally had financial problems. Katelyn's job wasn't paying quite enough and Matt continues to reject his offer for a job at his company. Their pride as self sustaining adults will only get them into trouble, a fact that he had to explain to them three times at this point and yet they continue to ignore his advice. He will always be there for his parents, through thick and thin, through the worst moments of their lives and their best. Because he loves them. For as long as he drew breath no harm in anyway will befall upon them, and if it does, then there will be hell to pay.

Later that day...

Two and a half hours of sitting and waiting, and they haven't a deer, bird, or rabbit to show for it. Walking back to the cabin was a slightly disappointed Max and a clearly upset Matt. Grass and leaves crunched underneath their camo boots as birds chirped in the trees around them.

"Well it certainly wasn't my fault, I'm not the one that scared them all off by stepping on a stick.

"You weigh five hundred pounds, how could it not be your fault? They probably heard us coming before we even got there.

Their 'argument' was no more than light hearted banter, it held no real malice or anger whatsoever. Though, on Matt's side, his attitude was clearly shown in his choice of words.

"We were sitting there for two hours with only occasional quiet sentences thrown in here and there. The only thing they heard was that twig snap beneath your boot. Honestly though, what the hell were you moving around for anyway?" Max grinned.

"Don't you dare."

"Cramping up old man?"

"Damn you! Fourty two is not old!"

Max let out a laugh like a great bellow. It's deep rumble echoed off the trees and green leaves around them.

However, a scream tore through his laughter and reached their ears. Both stared, alarmed, in the direction it came from.


The father and son sprinted back to the cabin, fear laced their veins as sticks snapped beneath their feet while dead and dry leaves crunched alongside them. And when they broke the tree line they saw something that Max himself openly claimed would not happen. A great brown bear had invaded the camp grounds. On all fours it was almost four feet tall by the shoulders and it's fur was a deep chestnut color.

But most importantly, it was chasing Katelyn.


Max's heart rate picked up, his pupils dilated, his pores leaked more sweat, his mind clouded over, and blood flowed more easily to his muscles. His body felt hot and he could feel every little shift in the air.

Adrenaline Rush

He was filled with rage . Something had dared to attack his mother, and now they will feel hell .

Before Matt could even register Max had moved he was already gone. The front treads of his left boot dug a small trench in the dry, hard dirt as he launched himself forward at a speed that shouldn't be possible for a human. Especially one at his size and weight. The gun was left behind, falling to the ground after the strap slipped off his shoulder. Sprinting at nearly twice the speed of Usain Bolt, Max was already half way across the clearing and closing in quickly on the grizzly. Once he was less than ten feet away he ducked down and went low, leading head first and drove his right shoulder into the bear's left side.


The resulting impact sent the bear flying. It ragdolled in the air for over fifteen feet before landing harshly on the hard ground and slammed stomach first into a tree trunk.

He stared for several seconds. It didn't move. Not a single twitch or even a pained whimper left what his still keen mind identified as a corpse. It's awkwardly positioned torso gave away plenty.

Threat Neutralized

The sound of boots and pants sliding in dirt rang in his ears. He turned to his left. His mother, who had fallen to the ground and was a moment away from being eviscerated, was being held in the arms of his father. Both were looking up at him in wonder and fear.

"You...you killed it."

The still present adrenaline induced haze draped over his mind kept him from registering which of them had spoke. But it did not keep him from hearing the rustling of twigs, leaves, and bushes.

He whipped around and there, where the bear had supposedly come from, he spotted two bear cubs breaking the tree line, rubbing against some bushes as they did so.

New Targets Aquired

He blacked out.

There was a moment of nothing, then the nothing was replaced with a strange feeling on his hands...wait. He can still feel his hands? Hmm... not quite, but there was some feeling.

When his black out ended and his senses returned to him he was immediately treated to the sight of his parents holding each other with their horror stricken faces staring up at him.

Why were they looking at him like that?

He felt...a wetness. On his hands.

He looked down and... oh god...

Both his hands, fuck, both his hands were covered in blood. Not a single inch of skin was visible between the tips of his fingers and half way up his forearms. And is that...oh god it is. Bone fragments were embedded into the palms of his hands and fingers.

He looked to his parents, they were unharmed. But then where... oh god. What the fuck did he do to the cubs?!

He began to turn around-


He stopped. Then turned back towards his parents. His mother reached out to him with a shaking hand. "Don't look over there honey. Just...just look at us.

He obeyed. Because he's a good son who doesn't go off killing and torturing young innocent animals. Because he protects his mother from murderous mama bears by breaking their spines with his shoulder. Because he protects his father from loan sharks who thought they could break his kneecaps by breaking theirs in retaliation.

He is a good son who will never allow anything to happen to his parents. And if something does happen then there will be hell to pay .

Age: 18 years and 9 months since birth...

"How fucking strong are you?" Steven, his bunkmate asked. They along with a few others were hanging out in the barracks. Max, who was the only one sitting on the floor due to his height forbidding him from sitting in the bed without hitting his head, had to perform a test earlier that day. He had to demonstrate just how strong he is. Unfortunately for them they still don't know the answer to that.

This morning they had him go through one of his adrenaline rushes by staging a false 'life or death' scenario by making it seem like a fellow soldier in training was having his legs crushed by a helicopter. The chopper's skids had 'broken' off and fell to the ground, seemingly knocking a soldier to the dirt before 'landing' on his legs. What he didn't know was that the man's legs were already in a hole dug into the ground before hand. But he wouldn't know this as he was far too busy being distracted by a female Drill Sergeant he couldn't seen to stop checking out and thus had his back to the scene since leaving the barracks.

The scream rang across the open dirt field, marines in training and other military personnel were turning to see what was happening. Max, however, was already sprinting over. His training over the last month here on site had him moving even faster than when his mother was attacked by the bear. And when he got there he immediately bent down and dug his fingers into the metal of the aircraft, warping the plating and poking holes with his finger tips.

Everyone watching was absolutely shocked when, instead of lifting the one side and bringing the 'trapped' man to safety, he instead flipped the entire helicopter into the air. The vehicle spun two times as it flew ten feet off to the side, destroying it's rotors when they smashed into the ground and crushing it's windows as it finally landed on it's left. The end result was one of the few remaining Bell UH-1's getting wrecked and everyone realizing that Max was a real life Supersoldier.

A naturally born Supersoldier.

The on-site general that was specifically there to over look Max's training had very quickly forbidden any further attemps to gauge his full strength. Deeming it too dangerous and risky to the lives of others at the site.

"That chopper is over nine thousand pounds and he flipped it like it was a fucking omelet. As far as I'm concerned we don't need to know how strong he is because whatever he comes across in the future he is more than enough to handle it by himself."

As the months went by the military higher-ups had realized that Max had a great talent for everything . Whatever vehicle he was placed in he seemed to immediately understand down to the last nut and bolt, driving all of them with skill that only experienced veterans could and in ways that no one else can. Every weapon he was given he showed an unusual aptitude for, making long range shots that even the most skilled sharpshooters would find nearly impossible to make. Even in fast paced close range training he managed to outperform anyone previous.

Hand-to-hand was an absolute disaster for anyone he faced. Being significantly stronger, faster, and possessing superior tactile instincts and thought patterns had him physically destroying anyone he was put up against. It was actually through this that they realized that Max's show of impossible strength with the helicopter wasn't just some usual adrenaline induced enhancements, it was actually his own version of an event of Hysterical Strength. Something that any human is capable of, Max's just so happens to be much stronger. His base strength when not experiencing an event of Hysterical Strength was reduced to being able to lift three times his body weight, an impressive feat of strength for anyone that is into strength training. It could not be emphasized enough how physically powerful he is. Steven had even called him a "real life Spartan". A comparison that Max appreciated due to his love for Halo.

And here he was. A duffle bag in one hand standing before his parents house. He had returned from his eight and a half months of military life. A decision made by the government when his training was finally considered 'complete'. They had decided that his intellect and ability to advance humanity forward through science and technology far too significant of an asset to let it die out on some battlefield in another country.

Of course he had anticipated this.

It was all part of the plan.

Nine months ago he decided that he needed military training if he was going to more effectively protect his parents from any potential dangers. He also allowed John, his favorite employee and right hand man, to run the company while he was gone. A decision he knew to be right when he received word that his company was going almost as steadily as when he was still around.

Anyway, the reason the government thought he was too important for them to lose was because of his accomplishments in terms of science and technology. He had cured cancer after discovering John's mother was diagnosed and pissed off Big Pharma in the process. He invented Hydrafuel️ which is far more efficient and more powerful than gasoline or diesel and emits less than one percent of the emissions of conventional fuels. It was also incredibly easy to make and mass produce, therefore entitling it to a ridiculously cheap price, making it the perfect alternative to normal fuels. Governments across the world were scrambling to get their hands on contracts with his company for the cheaper and significantly better fuel, effectively pissing off multiple big oil companies and driving a number of others to bankruptcy when their profits took a sharp downturn.

Yeah, he's been getting on the bad side of a lot of people over the years.

One other thing he made would be the Intelli-Crops, a bio invention of Tony Stark that was mentioned in the first Iron Man movie, this one had helped feed millions of starving people across the world.

There's been a number of other inventions, cures, and advancements of science but none of them were as notable as those three. There's been more financially successful things he has done and made but they weren't as big of a media hit as the literal cure for cancer, alternative super fuel, and feeding millions of starving people.

Throughout his life he has been regarded as the modern Einstein and given titles like: The real life Tony Stark, the Naturally Born Supersoldier, and a bunch of others. But the most prominent one would be: The next step of Human Evolution.

Walking up to the front door, he passed by a car parked in the driveway that he knew his parents didn't have before. Placing his hand on the knob, he didn't even bother to knock before barging in. "Hey everyone, I'm home!"

Age: 20 years and 1 month since birth. The day 'it' happened.

"It would appear that there is something about your son. Besides his Intellectual potential. His incredible weight is caused by his unusual growth. Due to some genetic abnormalities on a scale we've never seen before his muscles and skeletal structure is thicker and far denser than normal.

The parents looked between each other before turning back towards the doctor. "So he's...heavy?" Matt's voice was low and uncertain.

"More than just that. The increased density means that his bones and muscles are stronger. His aptitude for athleticism and weight lifting, givin that he actually exercises, will put him above most with far less effort. And assuming that he actually tries, he might become one of the most physically formidable men to ever live. Just keep him away from bodies of water.

"Why is that?"

"Because I sink like a fucking rock." Max joked with a laugh accompanied by his now signature award winning smile. "I'm a big guy but the water I displace isn't enough to make up for my weight. I'm like one of those divers with the copper helmets, I walk along the flooring of whatever body of water I'm in.

The girl he sat across from, Sarah, giggled. "How tall are you?" She asked after her laughter died down.

Max shrugged. "I'm seven foot one and I weigh five hundred and eighty six pounds. Fourteen more pounds and I could audition for 'My Six Hundred Pound Life'." He ended with a chuckle.

Sarah laughed once more. She was greatly enjoying their time together. When her laughter reduced to giggles she changed positions and placed her jaw in her hand, her elbow on the table. "So," She said with half lidded eyes. "-tell me more about yourself.

Max hummed again, trying to think of any general thing he could have possibly missed. However, his near perfect memory told him that there wasn't much of anything that he previously planned on divulging that he didn't provide a short summary of. "Really the only thing left to say is that I am the smartest human in recorded history. And that's not arrogance talking I'm saying that my IQ is literally the highest ever recorded. The only person that comes relatively close is William Sidis, and his IQ was supposedly around two fifty to three hundred. My aptitude for technology, science, and just generally everything makes me the most intellectually inclined human to ever live.

Sarah adopted a perplexed look, her eyes narrowed and lips pursed. "Yeah, about that. What is your IQ by the way? No one knows what it is and it's nowhere on your online biography."

Max's smile widened. "Yeah I never really cared for how the people that I technically work for didn't want such information getting out." He chuckled. "They did tell me why over a conference call but I didn't care enough to listen. I was far too busy trying to complete my LASO run on Halo 2. Fucking Jackel Snipers."

Sarah's smile brightened immensely. "I love Halo!"

Max grinned internally. 'Finally. A woman of culture.'

"I gotta say though, I love The Chief, I really do, but The Arbiter can get it. His voice is just so..." Sarah visibly shivered. Her shoulders shaking somewhat from the force of it.

Max was greatly enjoying his time with Sarah, as evident by the shit eating grin on his face. And he completly agreed with her. The Arbiter, otherwise known as Thel Vadam, is easily his favorite character with the Master Chief being a close second.

And he's hot.

It was at that moment that he realized, with no small amount of horror, that if he were to pursue a relationship with her he would have a moral obligation to delete his three terabytes of sangheili porn.

"Damn it."


"Don't worry about it."

Sarah gave him a strange look. Fortunately she decided to drop it. "O..k? Um, anyway." She gestured to his muscled chest. "So you were in the military?

Max's smile came back. "Oh yeah, that." He waved a hand over his torso. "All my physical training in the marine corps helped me pack another hundred pounds of bone and muscle on me, as you can clearly see." And he was right. Despite his incredible weight he actually wasn't fat at all. In fact if he were naked an observer would notice that he doesn't seem to have an ounce of body fat on him. They would also say that his physique was only slightly above average. Atleast that was before the marine corps. Now his physique was between highly above average and Captain America. However, during one of his adrenaline rushes it should be noted that his body type seems to upgrade and begins to resemble Thor's.

"I learned many things during my time in the marines. Like, for instance, how to better handle guns, close range weapons, and a bit of hand to hand combat. I also learned the complete layout of the M1 Abrams tank, honestly a fantastic piece of machinery that thing is. She's quite something.

Sarah, nodded, her eyes slightly sad. "Yeah. You know I actually tried to enroll into the marine corps as well. Apparently they don't let you in if you've had a serious concussion when you were a kid.

Max hummed. "I see. Yeah, you'd be surprised how many people the military in general turn down due to health reasons or otherwise. Did you know that depression could also disqualify your application?

Sarah's eyes widened. "It can?"

Max nodded. "Oh yeah, it's a serious thing apparently."

Sarah leaned forward on the table. Her elbows dragging along the wood and causing her sleeves to hike up a bit. "You know, I noticed that you didn't answer my question earlier. What is your IQ?"

Max grinned as his eyes took on a new shine. "Caught that didn't you? I'm happy. Not many have." He took a sip from his water. "My IQ is-"

And just like that the date flew by. Three hours spent talking and enjoying each other's company. However short it might turn out to be when he eventually comes to terms with the fact that he's just not ready for a relationship yet and makes up a reason why they just won't work despite their connections and similarities. Nonetheless he will try to enjoy her for as long as he can.

On another note he was quite excited to get home. He had just received his brand new Custom Kawasaki Ninja H2. Now a normal motorcycle wouldn't be able to handle him properly so he had commissioned Kawasaki to build him a custom model that was designed specifically for his size and weight. The result was a very big bike. He had paid twice as much as a normal Ninja H2 and promised them early access to his next 'invention' known as 'Plasteel'. I use quotations for 'invention' because technically he didn't invent it. He more so reinvented it. Or rather he perfected it. His version of plasteel will soon be known across the world as the next-generation space-age material. It's stronger than steel and only a third of the weight while also being just as easily worked with while molding as plastic, plasteel will pave the way for humanity's future both in space and down here on earth. The directors of NASA and SpaceX were especially happy upon learning of his newest creation.

He was approaching an intersection. A group of people stood on the curb, patiently waiting for the red hand light to change over to the white walking signal. At the front of the group he noticed a little girl who couldn't be any older than eight playing with something in her hands. Her mother, the woman who looks so much like her, was talking with a man who looked nothing like the little girl.

Max ignored it. Opting instead to pull out his phone. He designed it himself, it runs on a quantum computer. Significantly better in every way over any other phone out there it will easily be another ten years before any computer making company makes something even half as powerful as his phone.

Opening his contacts he went and pulled up John's number. His thumb came down and hovered over 'call' for just a moment when-

A ruffle followed by a scream rung out. Max whipped his eyes up. The little girl had dropped her toy. It fell and bounced off the edge of the curb and rolled out onto the street. The child had followed it. The screaming mother was being held back by the man. An eighteen wheeler was barreling down the road faster than it should have been, it's tires were screeching as the brake's anti-lock system struggled to keep up.

The next event lasted for only a single moment.

Max had less than a second to process this before he was sprinting at full speed. He whizzed past the group and leapt out onto the road. He dug the treads of his boots into the asphalt, bringing him to a near stop. He wrapped the girl in both his arms, turned his body, making sure her head was pressed securely to his chest as to avoid giving her whiplash, and threw her back at the group.

The girl was in the air, half way back over. He didn't have anytime to save himself, he wasn't even in a position to reorientate himself. He turned his head and came face to face with the grill of the truck. The screech of it's tires filled his ears and drowned out the screaming of the people around him. And when the impact came, he finally knew for the first time in his life what broken bones felt like. The metal of the grill caved in as his body practically disappeared. He could feel the most intense pain he's ever felt explode across his body. His vision left him for a moment as the friction with the asphalt dragged him under the truck. The sensation of heavy rock hard rubber rolling over his body was agonizing. And oh god he just got ran over! The tires didn't want to let him go, they peeled him off the street and slammed him into the under carriage. This happened for every pair of tires that his body was crushed by.

When it was all over he just laid there. His entire body felt like it was on fire. He felt like someone doused him in napalm and lit him up. It was the absolute worst thing he has ever felt in his life.

He could hear the truck come to a halt several feet away. But that didn't matter. His vision was fading out again. The blue sky and the few white clouds he could see past his already swollen eye lids were quickly leaving focus. His sight was getting fuzzy and his hearing, or whats left of it, was fading out. And for a moment, just a moment, he could see faces hovering over him before he finally lost consciousness.


Movement. There was movement.


And voices...



There was the brief cent of sterilization. But it too left just as quickly.


Movement. Again...

The voices came back too. But they weren't the same as before...





Holy FUCK why was it so cold?!

Sleepiness wafted over him...


I cannot sleep now!

I need to get up!

I need to...











And so he slept in the blood clotting cold.

And when he once more returned to the waking world he will feel like he had not seen it in a very long time.

Subject: Max Barrett

Species: Human (It is currently being discussed whether or not Max should be reclassified as a sub-human or an enhanced-human.)

Age: 20

Height: 7' (213.36 cm)

Health: 5/100 [CRITICAL]

Intelligence: Unknown/10 (Max's full intellectual capabilities is currently unknown. However, it has been theorized that it is probably significantly higher than what is currently known. After he was recovered from 'The Accident' a journal was found on his person possessing many scriptures and ideas for inventions and scientific theories. Most notably is that there is a chapter in the journal labeled "How to push humanity into the Age of the Dyson Sphere in 80 years. 10,000 years ahead of schedule". Unfortunately this particular chapter entry was written in a language that is supposedly known only to Max himself and is currently considered to be untranslatable by any known method.)

Strength: Unknown/10 (Max currently weighs 586 pounds and is recorded to be able to lift 3 times this weight when not undergoing an event of Hysterical Strength. During an event of Hysterical Strength Max has been seen flipping a Bell UH-1 helicopter (9,500 pounds) clean off the ground. It has been theorized that Max can lift far greater weight if he was ever sufficiently prompted to.)

Speed: 15/10 (Max has been recorded sprinting at speeds of up to 46 miles per hour during an Adrenaline Rush. A speed that was previously thought to be unachievable by basic human locomotion.)

Durability: 20/10 (Max's physical durability is nothing short of incredible. Max's body is so physically resilient that he managed to survive being ran over by an Peterbilt 379 towing a load of 30,000 pounds with [REDACTED] injuries.)

Weakness(es): Bodies of liquid deep enough to drown in. (At this moment the only thing that is known to be a weakness caused by his abnormalities is his inability to swim. His enormous weight and surface area are incredibly disproportionate (bias towards weight) and thus causes him to sink like a stone in water.)

Notes: Max is a secretly conniving 20 year old man. His favorite title is "The next stage of Human Evolution" as he believes that it represents that he is the physical amalgamation of all of humanity's potential rolled up into one being. When it comes to advancing humanity he puts next to no effort into it, preferring to lay back and "chill out". His guilty pleasure song is Die Young by Kesha, as he is young and personally believes that every night should be a party of some sort. His absolute greatest desire is to know what is inside a Black Hole.

End 1st entry.