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The Bagel Effect

The Butterfly Effect. A small act that leads to an avalanche of consequences of epic proportions in ways that might not make sense linearly. Well, in my case, the small act was a bagel being thrown at my face. All my life, I was a joke. Even my origin story began as a joke. It didn’t matter how much I studied, or how high I climbed the Alchemax ladder, or how much I pushed the boundaries of science, nobody took me seriously. I was just another spot in the crowd. They mistook my gentleness, my meek and innocent and shy personality, for disgrace. Whether consciously or not, it doesn’t matter. Because of a joke, I was in the wrong place, at the wrong time, as the wrong person. I lost my job. My life. MY FACE. My family won’t even look at me. Even the villains mocked me. And Spider-Man, the one who made me into this, laughed and fought me while typing on the phone, looking away, calling me a ‘villain of the week’. No one in my life ever gave me an ounce of respect. A sliver of dignity. A drop of honor. They don’t know how it feels to have a hole eating you inside. Having a black spot in your heart. The feeling of being a hollow shell. Of being less than zero, less than nothing. Of staring at the abyss, and the abyss staring at you, pouring into you. They should have known better. I am done playing nice. I am done being weak. And I’m tired of pretending I’m not. I won’t be a ‘villain of the week’ anymore. They will see the consequences of epic proportions. They will see The Bagel Effect. They will see ME. LOOK. AT. ME.

MegaMacho · Anime & Comics
Not enough ratings
2 Chs

Bad Spot

"----" Speech

'----' Thought

(----) Thought in the middle of a sentence.

*----* Sound noises

[5+ chapters on P4TR30N!!!]

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Chapter 1: Bad Spot

(3rd Person POV - Spot)

In NY's Central Park, a slightly chubby figure could be seen sitting on a wood bench in a more isolated part of the park with a phone close to his ears… or where they should have been. This, however, wasn't even the most unnatural part of this being. He had bright white skin with irregularly shaped black spots that moved and flickered at random intervals, one big spot being right at the center of this creature's face.

It was unsettling. Alien even. The people who walked by hurried their pace when they looked at 'it'.

"Please, I just need a little help-" His meek voice pleaded at the other side of the line. A voice that betrayed the unknown danger his appearance suggested. If one guessed what he looked like with his timbre they would say he was a nerdy type, passive and innocent.

[NO! When you stop looking like a freak, you come here! And don't call until then!] *BEEP*

He lowered his arm that was holding the phone slowly. "Sigh…What now?" He stared upwards at the sky, looking for an answer, even praying for one despite him not really believing in any religion. Yet, none answered him. Like always.

He wanted to cry a little, but his body lost that capacity since the accident. He laughed a little at the memory and his misery. Even his origin story was a joke.

Dr. Johnathon Ohnn, that was his name. The 'was' on that line being the keyword. Ever since that damn super collider exploded by the new up-and-coming Spiderman a year ago, he was called Spot. Well… more like he called himself Spot, but still!

He was a leading scientist at Alchemax. One of the best. He was living the dream by pushing the boundaries of science to never seen before heights. Yet, this all changed when he began working on the super collider. A machine capable of breaching the multiverse. Alchemax's masterpiece. His masterpiece.

He teleported a spider from another universe in one of the machine's tests. A very special spider. A spider that escaped and bit a random black boy in the streets, making him the successor and new Spiderman of New York.

He laughed a bit more. That boy threw a bagel at him. Gosh, it was so humiliating. As if he wasn't already the butt of the joke by his peers at the lab.

Anyway, resuming back to the joke that is his life, he remembered the showdown between Spiderman and the kingpin, who surprisingly was the funder of this research. The super collider was activated, it was incredibly dangerous and everyone had evacuated, all except him.

How could he leave when his life's work was in danger? He had to save what he could. He rushed to the site and grabbed a glass capsule with a swirling black sphere inside it. It was a batch of dark matter, the fuel, and the key to the super collider. As he was about to leave, spiderman blew up the super collider.

The sheer kinetic energy broke the gigantic anti-shockwave windows and the capsule in his hands. The dark matter, surprisingly, did not instantly explode and vaporize him, perhaps due to the super collider's interference. Instead, I latched onto him, fusing and mutating his figure to this chalk-white humanoid with no eyes, nose, mouth, ears, no nothing. He was like a white humanoid canvas with accidental spills of black over his figure.

He tried to get help from Alchemax. If anything, he would be a good research subject. Wrong. They fired him on the spot, not willing to associate themselves with the mistake and himself at all. They cleaned the servers of him ever working there and left him with nothing.

He returned to his parent's house, seeking a roof and aid until he could figure out the next steps. They mistook him for a villain and hit him with a broom, and man does that stick hurt. After he finally cleared the misunderstanding and told them it was him, their son, he expected things to finally take a turn for the better. Wrong again. They threw him out of the house, called him a freak, and yelled at him to never come back.

He had nowhere to go. No house. No money. No family. No anything. He hit rock bottom alright, in record time.

He walked down the streets completely aimless, day after day, until one day he spotted a villain walking to an alley. Against his better judgment, he followed him. There, he found the bar with no name. A bar where villains gather to scheme and relax.

As soon as he entered, he attracted everyone's attention. He greeted them with a weak wave and a 'Hi!', probably a bad move when they probably prey on weakness like beasts, but he tried his best, ok? It was way harder when dozens of deadly villains staring at you. He was an introvert by nature.

He made himself lower and went to the barman, who handed him an unknown drink.

"So, what is your deal?" He asked the newcomer.

Reluctantly, he took a sip of the drink and explained his situation, his abilities, everything, really. Even the fact Spiderman threw a bagel at him, all the while he drank his beer (Thank God it was just beer… I think). Perhaps he felt a bit accepted there since they were all misfits of society. Wrong again! They all laughed at him collectively, intensifying even more when the startle of the situation activated his powers and the booze he was drinking came out of his holes like a fountain.

'He can't even drink right!'

'If you want a job, I know this whorehouse and I guarantee they'll know what to do with your holes. HAHAHA!'

'I think a circus would be better, no? He already looks like a clown, and nailed the performance! Pushhh hehehe!'

'A bagel? Man, a loser through and through. Here, catch this bagel! Huhu~.'

'At least you don't have a face! Cuz man, what an embarrassment!'

'That's one unlucky fucker! So glad I'm not him.'

The dirty and degrading jokes they made about him and his holes. The beer and food they threw at him. The foot they put on his way out for him to trip, forcing him to crawl his way out of there. The slaps. The laughter. The shame. He was never so degraded, so… violated. Even the villains with all kinds of dark pasts, traumas, and more thought his origin was stupid. That he was stupid.

He left the bar in defeated steps. He was truly and utterly alone. It finally dawned on him right then and there that no one would help him. That he was utterly and completely alone. And much worse. It dawned on him just how much of a loser he is.

As he scurried away in the middle of the night, going as far from the bar as he could, he reminisced about his past. Even before the accident, he was a loser.

His parents never really cared how well he did in school. Every effort he put in was met with disappointment, and he never really understood why. Was it because he was not popular or cool? Was it because he was a timid boy back in the day and less but still now? Was it the fact he never dated someone? Was it because he was not on the football team? His dad loved to talk about it at dinner…

Even back at Alchemax he was treated like an outsider. It was as if I had this aura that made people think less of him. He never hurt anyone. Never provoked anyone. He was a nice guy. He was sure. So why?

Why did everyone treat him like a joke?! Why?!

When did things go wrong?! Was it when he became a high school nerd? Was it when he teleported that spider? Was it when that bagel hit him? Was it when that dark matter capsule broke? Was it when he lost his job? Was it when his family kicked him out? Was it when he entered the bar with no name? Was it when he was born?

He stopped moving only when he ran out of breath. His breath was visible due to the cold of the night. He was tired, exhausted both physically and mentally. Especially mentally. He could feel a weight settling on his mind, the beginning of a headache. He shouldn't have drunk back there. He was a lightweight drinker.

He looked left and right, searching for an alley to spend the night. Something not hard in the suburbs of this city. He laid to the side and against a wall, an arm below his head to function as a pillow, and closed his non-existent eyes.

He slept on the streets that day… or rather, tried. The concrete was too cold, the wind blowing loudly and chilling, and the streets too noisy. He got up and tried to approach some beggars around a barrel on fire for some warmth, but they chased him off. He was left in a dark and dirty corner in an alley so full of trash not even the other street denizens got near it.

'At least it will reduce the chances of me getting jumped, I guess.' He thought in a somber tone.

Using a trash bag as a pillow, he tried to sleep. His mind was plagued by 'what ifs', doubts, and nightmares relentlessly, giving him barely an hour of shut eyes before the sun rose and woke him. Desperate for fresh air, he got up and went to Central Park, or rather, he teleported there with one of his Spots. There was no reason to walk all the way there and attract all kinds of attention. It wasn't because of shame or how bad he smelled. Truly!

It took a few tries since his holes were wild and hard to control. His body coordination was always awkward and clumsy, and this seemed to transfer over to the poor control of his powers, but he did it! It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless! He had to keep himself optimistic in trying times like these. It wasn't even hard, really. At this point, it was an unconscious defense mechanism, refined throughout his entire life.

He might be a loser, but he was a resilient one.

Sitting in his favorite spot on an isolated bench in the park, he brought his phone to his non-existent ear and tried calling his parents one last time, and well, we all know how that turned out.

Back to the present, the man got up from his seat and started walking in circles. Numerous thoughts ran through his mind.

He was in a bad spot, alright. But that has to be a way to gain his life back. There always is. He was a scientist, one of the best out there. If there is an answer, he can find it. He will find it. He just needs to research. And for that, he will need money. He can't have a job... so he will have to steal it. Fortunately, he just might have the perfect power for this.

He will become a supervillain. Use his powers and discover a cure. Get rid of these spots on his skin and get out of this bad spot! Maybe even sell a book about his story afterward, yeah! Who knows, he might even get his revenge against Spiderman! But for that to begin, he needs a name. A villain name.

He paused for a moment mid-step as if struck by lightning. Spots… Spot. This can be his villain name. His powers use spots, he is in a bad spot, and he was never spotted by others all his life. It was perfect!

"The world shall know Spo-! *Growl*" A loud growl from his belly echoed through the trees, interrupting him.

"…"

… Grabbing a bite wouldn't hurt.

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Huzaah! It iz I! The one only! Most Macho of all! Mega Macho!

Cringe intro apart, let's talk about this chapter.

I tried to grasp Spot's personality as accurately as I could. Spot is a good guy. He is a guy who was forced into crime and never tried to hurt anyone. Quite literally a quirky nerd who grew up, still shy, clumsy, uncoordinated, meek, awkward, cringe, passive, etc. But with a heart that meant well for everybody, who unfortunately wasn't given enough credit.

He must have been bullied at school with those traits. Probably didn't have many friends, if any at all. I also made it so he continued being that outsider everywhere he went, such as Alchemax. I don't think it is a stretch to guess his life was like that. It is easy to look down on people like the Spot.

I'm not even talking about his face who literally forsaken him when he mutated into the Spot. Man had a rough life, for reasons mostly out of his control. The helplessness he must have felt… Yet, he continued having that upbeat tone, that amicable way of talking and full of positivity, making less of a situation that would make the average man kick and scream at the sky.

Spot's willpower is way higher than we give him credit for. Because of his other traits, we tend to look over this aspect. The guy survived a year looking like a freak with nothing to his name, and still only resorted to crime at the very end. He had everything to be a hero, but unfortunately, he was one bagel too short.

One deleted scene from [Spiderman - Across The Spiderverse] was Spot going to the bar with no name and being mocked by the villains there, and eventually returning in his final form and destroying the bar and killing many villains inside. Man, that would have been chilling, a pity it never made it to the final cut.

Even an innocent and pure guy like Spot has a limit. A breaking point. This is a fanfic about him showing everyone just who he is, who he was, and who he'll become.

It will have philosophical reflections. Character growth. And much more. This won't be just a power trip towards revenge, no. I think Spot deserves a more compelling story.

See you guys soon, till next time! :D

┃🔴 MegaMacho [p a treon . com (slash) MegaMacho (remove all spacing and replace "(slash)" for "/")]

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