VPrime

For some reason? Haha I wonder what it could be...

I use Street Justice as Super Strength for my Scrapper, Genesis Why take Infiltration over Super Speed?

Chapter Five: The laboratories beneath the Bureau facility were not part of the official tour. David had walked the halls above countless times now, never suspecting what lay beneath. He trained, tested, pushed his limits—all under the belief that the Bureau’s watchful eyes were focused solely on him. He never saw the sealed elevator, the biometric locks, or the floors that stretched deeper than any public schematic revealed. But Dr. Zayne Draydeon knew every inch. --- The chamber was cold, metallic, and alive with the hum of machines. Cylinders filled with glowing fluid lined the walls, each one connected by a web of cables that pulsed like veins. At the center, suspended in containment, was a sample—a vial holding blood drawn from David Joseph during his intake. Draydeon stood over it, his gloved hands clasped behind his back, his reflection sharp in the glass. “Extraordinary,” he whispered. “A genome unlike any other. Not an accident, not a mutation—perfection from birth.” He tapped the console, and holographic strands of DNA spiraled upward, shifting, rotating. Some sections blazed bright where energy clustered unnaturally. “Vitality,” Draydeon murmured. “Your very cells are alive with potential. And potential should never be wasted.” --- Two files blinked to life on the console, marked in red: Project Apex and Project Ultimate. Draydeon studied the first. Apex. The U.S. Government’s request had been simple—a controllable superhuman soldier. Not a hero, not a symbol, but a predator that could be pointed like a weapon and unleashed. Into the holographic DNA he spliced strands from predator species. The simulation twisted, reforming into a monstrous humanoid genome. The readouts surged: Strength. Speed. Regeneration. Neural toxin. The machine beeped: Subject X viable. “An apex predator for the new age,” Draydeon said, his smile thin. --- He shifted to the second file: Ultimate. This was Arachnos’s demand—raw power above all else. No finesse, no subtlety. The strongest being possible, no matter the cost. He increased size, density, muscle mass. The holographic model grew grotesquely, towering, monstrous. Height: 9’2”. Weight: 1365 lbs. Draydeon’s eyes gleamed as the readout finalized: Subject Prime viable. “The ultimate being,” he whispered. --- The door hissed open behind him. A shadowed figure stepped into the lab, dressed in the black and crimson of Arachnos. Her presence filled the air with psychic weight. Fortunata Kalinda. “You play a dangerous game, doctor,” she said, her voice echoing in both sound and thought. “Two masters. Two promises. Eventually, one will demand more than the other.” Draydeon didn’t flinch. “Science demands no loyalty. Only progress.” Kalinda’s eyes narrowed. She peered at the vial, at the blood within. For a brief moment, her mask cracked, and she whispered almost reverently: “He is the axis.” Draydeon smirked. “No. He is the catalyst." --- Aboveground, David Joseph slept, unaware. He dreamed of fire and falling stars. He dreamed of the boy he had saved from the bus, of his mother sweeping glass from the diner window, of the faces of those who now looked to him for hope. He didn’t know that deep below, his blood was being split into monsters. He didn’t know that while the world was starting to call him Vitality, others were already carving his name into secret files marked Weapon.

Chapter Four: The FBSA didn’t waste time. Within a week of the Arachnos assault, David was relocated to a secure Bureau facility outside Washington, D.C. The compound was half military base, half research hub, its halls buzzing with agents, scientists, and technicians. David walked through it like an intruder, but every eye followed him with a mix of awe and wariness. Project Vitality had begun. --- They gave him a room larger than his old apartment. They gave him a private gym, medical staff, and a liaison who shadowed his every move. But the centerpiece—the symbol of his new identity—waited in the facility’s armory. “Step inside,” Agent Rook said, her tone softer than usual. She keyed open a reinforced door, revealing a chamber bathed in white light. At its center, displayed on a raised platform, was the suit. Sleek, black, and built for durability, it gleamed under the overhead lights. White and gray trim cut across the torso in sharp lines, hinting at both strength and speed. No cape, no excess—just clean, modern armor molded to function like a second skin. David stepped closer, unable to hide the pull it had on him. “It looks like something out of a comic book.” “It’s more than aesthetics,” said another voice. Dr. Zayne Draydeon emerged from the shadows of the chamber, a tablet in his hands. His silvered hair caught the light as his eyes swept over David like a specimen under glass. “The suit is a layered composite—poly-weave reinforced with nanopolymer fibers. Resistant to small arms fire, extreme temperatures, and concussive force. Lightweight enough to move as naturally as your own skin. You’ll find it… accommodating.” David raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought black leather was just stylish.” Draydeon smiled faintly. “Style is incidental. Survival is not.” --- Minutes later, David stood before the mirror in full gear. The suit clung to him like a shadow, the white-gray lines accentuating the power in his frame. For the first time since the meteor shower, he looked less like a man caught in chaos—and more like someone ready to face it. Agent Rook’s voice came gently. “Every name means something. Every symbol. Vitality is not only the name of the Project, but it will also be your new codename.” David looked at himself, the bright trim of his supersuit standing out against the dark. “Vitality,” he said quietly. --- The launch wasn’t public—yet. But inside FBSA headquarters, Project Vitality was celebrated with an almost ceremonial precision. Dozens of agents and analysts watched from behind glass as David stepped into the central chamber. A Bureau banner hung above, its insignia gleaming under floodlights. Agent Rook stood at his side, her voice amplified. “Today, the Bureau for Superhuman Affairs introduces a new ally in our mission to safeguard the public. A man who risked his life when the world began to fall apart. A man who will no longer fight alone.” She turned to David. “Vitality, the floor is yours.” David swallowed. He wasn’t a speechmaker—he was just a man who’d tried to save people when fire rained from the sky. But he stepped forward anyway, the suit hugging his frame, the eyes of the Bureau fixed on him. “I didn’t ask for this,” he admitted, his voice carrying through the chamber. “I didn’t want it. But the world doesn’t care what I want. It needs people willing to stand when others can’t. I’ll do that—not for banners, not for politics, but for people. Ordinary people. Because that’s what I am. And that’s who I’ll fight for.” The room broke into measured applause, the kind meant to echo in reports and records. --- From the observation deck, Dr. Zayne Draydeon said nothing. His eyes lingered on the scans running across his tablet—David’s vital signs, cellular regeneration rates, energy output. Numbers that no human should have produced. He whispered the codename under his breath like a possession. “Vitality…” And then, quietly, as if sealing his own vow: “The key.”

Chapter Three: David had been back home for a week, but it didn’t feel like home anymore. Pittsburgh’s steel bones and brick alleys hadn’t changed, but he had. He saw the world differently now—every detail sharper, every sound layered, every heartbeat within a block faintly audible if he focused too much. He’d taken leave from his job at the machine shop, told his mother he was just tired from “helping people during the storm.” She hadn’t pressed him, though the worry in her eyes said enough. The FBSA had called twice since then. Agent Rook’s voice was calm, patient, but persistent. We can help you. You can’t do this alone. David always gave the same answer. “I’m not your weapon.” He wanted to believe that meant something. --- The night of the attack began quietly. Main Street in his hometown, just outside Pittsburgh, was glowing with the warm yellow of streetlamps. The old diner still buzzed with late-night truckers, kids lingered by the corner store, and the autumn wind carried the smell of rain. David sat on the porch of his mother’s house, the boards creaking under his weight, staring at the stars he rarely used to notice. Then the wind shifted. It wasn’t just a breeze—it was wrong. He smelled something sharp, metallic, like ozone before lightning. His skin prickled. Shadows moved at the end of the street. At first, he thought it was just kids—but then he saw the red glint of eyes. Dozens of them. The first blast hit the corner store, a concussive bolt that sent glass and neon spraying into the night. People screamed. Figures in black and crimson armor surged forward, their helmets bristling with arachnid-like sensors. Arachnos. --- David’s body moved before his mind caught up. He vaulted the porch rail and sprinted down the street, faster than a car could drive. His shoulder slammed into one of the armored figures, sending it flipping end over end before it crashed into a parked sedan. Another turned toward him, rifle crackling with energy. David ducked under the shot, grabbed the weapon, and snapped it in half like dry wood. “Why here?!” he shouted, though the only answer was the hiss of comms in a language he didn’t understand. Civilians were scattering, trapped in the crossfire. David scooped up a girl frozen on the sidewalk, leaping over a fallen streetlight to deposit her safely on the far side of the block. His heart raced—not from fear, but from the surge of power he could no longer contain. --- The Arachnos squad pressed harder. More armored troops rappelled from skimmers hovering overhead, ropes whipping in the night wind. Their firepower wasn’t aimed at random—they were targeting buildings, infrastructure, people. It wasn’t an attack on the city. It was an attack on him. He realized it the moment one of the operatives shouted through a vocoder: “Subject confirmed! Capture protocol!” So that was it. They hadn’t come for Pittsburgh. They’d come for David Joseph. --- Something inside him snapped. He launched upward, the ground cracking beneath his feet as his body rose into the air—truly airborne this time, not a leap but flight under his own will. The sensation was terrifying and liberating at once. Bullets and plasma fire streaked upward after him, but he moved faster than their sights could track. He dove, a living missile, crashing into the skimmer. Metal screamed as it tore apart, flames spewing across the night sky. The Arachnos troops broke ranks, retreating into the shadows as quickly as they had come. Within minutes, the town was left smoking, civilians dazed but alive. David floated above the wreckage, chest heaving, his hands trembling as adrenaline drained. The town he had grown up in—the place he thought he could stay normal—lay in ruins around him. --- The next morning, the FBSA came. Agent Rook didn’t gloat. She didn’t say I told you so. She only walked beside David through the wreckage, watching as neighbors swept glass from the streets and firefighters doused the last embers. “They’ll come again,” she said quietly. “Arachnos doesn’t stop. Not until they get what they want.” David clenched his fists. He had wanted to protect his hometown, to shield it from this world he’d been dragged into. But the fight had found him anyway. “I don’t trust your Bureau,” he admitted. “I don’t trust any of this.” “You don’t have to trust us,” Rook said. “You just have to trust yourself. And decide how far you’re willing to go to keep people safe.” David looked at the families huddled in blankets, the faces of his neighbors lit by the pale dawn. He knew his choice was gone before he even spoke it. “I’ll work with you,” he said. “But on my terms.” Agent Rook nodded once. “Then welcome to Project Vitality.” --- Far away, in her psychic sanctum, Fortunata Kalinda exhaled as her vision solidified. She had seen him—the boy born to power, who now wore the mantle of a name whispered by destiny. Vitality. And in his hidden laboratory, Dr. Zayne Draydeon’s grin stretched wider. He didn’t need the reports to know what had happened—he felt it in the data streams, the seismic ripple of unleashed potential. “Good,” he whispered. “Very good. The subject is no longer hiding.”

Chapter Two: The facility wasn’t a hospital. David realized that within his first hour of consciousness. Hospitals didn’t have reinforced steel doors. Hospitals didn’t have observation decks with mirrored glass. And hospitals didn’t have armed guards posted at every intersection of the hallways. David sat on the edge of the bed, flexing his hands. His skin bore no trace of the cuts and burns he remembered. His ribs, shattered in the blast, were whole again. He felt stronger, sharper, as if every muscle in his body had been tuned to perfection overnight. Agent Rook stood in the doorway, her arms folded. “How do you feel?” David hesitated. “Alive. Too alive, maybe.” Her gaze softened for just a moment before the professional mask returned. “Good. Then you’re ready.” --- They led him into a chamber the size of a basketball court. Its walls were lined with reinforced plating, scorch marks scarred across the floor from tests that had come before him. “Mr. Joseph,” a voice crackled from the overhead speakers. “My name is Dr. Zayne Draydeon. I’ll be monitoring your evaluation today.” David squinted toward the glass observation deck. He could just make out a tall figure with silvered hair, hands clasped behind his back. “Evaluation?” David asked. Agent Rook handed him a sleek device no larger than a phone. “Your comm-link. From here on, when you hear my voice, you respond. Think of it as your lifeline.” David turned it over in his palm. “This is starting to sound less like recovery and more like recruitment.” “You saved people in that square,” Rook said quietly. “That wasn’t luck. That was instinct. And instincts like yours… don’t come around often.” --- The first test was simple: strength. A mechanical arm extended from the wall, lowering a block of steel the size of a refrigerator. “Lift,” Draydeon’s voice instructed. David wrapped his hands around it. His arms tensed—and the block rose as if it were no heavier than a sack of groceries. He stared at himself, at the metal hovering in his hands, the impossible reality of it. “Fascinating,” Draydeon murmured over the speaker. “Again.” The second test was speed. A series of drones zipped into the chamber, firing stun rounds in tight succession. David’s body reacted before his mind did, his feet blurring across the floor, weaving between shots. He reached the far wall in a single bound, the drones spinning to keep up. By the time he stopped, his heart was hammering—but not from exhaustion. From exhilaration. --- The third test wasn’t ordered. It just… happened. A klaxon blared suddenly, the floor panels opening. Smoke hissed into the chamber as mechanical constructs unfolded from hidden compartments—tall, insect-like machines with whirring blades. David dropped into a stance instinctively. “What the hell is this?!” “Not part of the program,” Rook barked over the comm. “Hold position—” Too late. The machines lunged. David reacted without thinking. His fist connected with the first machine, and the steel shell crumpled inward like tinfoil. He pivoted, faster than he thought possible, grabbing another by its blade arm and ripping it free. Sparks showered the chamber. One machine leapt onto his back, blades screeching against his skin—and broke. David twisted, hurling it into the wall so hard the plating buckled. In seconds, the chamber was still. Smoke and sparking wires filled the air, David standing in the center, chest heaving. He looked up at the observation deck. For the first time, Draydeon leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with hungry fascination. --- Agent Rook entered the chamber, her voice tight. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.” David turned to her, fists still trembling from adrenaline. “What was that?” “Sabotage,” she said, though she didn’t sound convinced. Draydeon’s voice followed over the speaker, smooth and measured. “Remarkable resilience. Not only strength, but regenerative durability. He adapts in real time. Extraordinary.” David’s gut twisted at the way he said it—not admiration, but ownership. Like he was a specimen. Rook touched his arm gently. “You did well. More than well. The Bureau wants to extend you an offer. Training, resources, guidance. A chance to be something more than a man running into fire without backup.” David met her eyes. “And if I say no?” Her expression hardened. “Then you walk out of here alone. But you’ll still be what you are. And sooner or later, the world will find out.” David looked at the twisted wreckage of the machines at his feet, then at his hands—hands that no longer felt entirely his own. For the first time, he understood the truth. He wasn’t being asked to become something. He already was. --- Far above, in the observation deck, Draydeon’s smile widened as he whispered to himself: “Perfect.”

Chapter One: Pittsburgh never saw the stars anymore. The city’s skyline glowed with orange haze and neon reflections, drowning out the constellations. But on that night, every eye in the Steel City was turned skyward. The meteor shower lit up the darkness like fire raining from heaven. Dozens—no, hundreds—of blazing fragments tore across the sky, trailing green and silver light. At first, there was awe. People filled the bridges, phones pointed upward, laughter echoing through the streets. Awe turned to fear when the first meteor broke apart over the Allegheny, its fragments slamming into the river with an explosion of steam and fire. David Joseph didn’t run. He should have—most people did—but instinct shoved him forward into the chaos. The ground shook as a blazing rock punched a crater into the edge of Market Square. Glass rained from shattered windows, a bus jackknifed against a light pole, and panicked screams filled the air. David was already moving, dragging two dazed teenagers out from under the collapsed bus shelter. “Move!” he shouted, as another shockwave rattled his bones. But then something happened. Something David couldn’t explain. A fiery meteor slammed into the street just yards away, the shockwave roaring out like a hurricane. It should have crushed him, broken him—but instead, David stood firm. The blast struck him, tore at his jacket, but his body didn’t yield. It was as if his bones were steel, his skin unbreakable. A little boy was still inside the bus, pinned by twisted metal. David grabbed the wreckage and pulled—metal screeched and bent under his grip. He stared at his hands in disbelief, then tore the barrier free, hauling the child into his arms just as the bus exploded. The force of the blast flung him across the street, his body slamming against the pavement. Pain flared, but even that felt wrong. Not as much pain as there should have been. His heartbeat thundered, his blood burned, and for the first time in his life, David Joseph felt what he truly was. Not ordinary. Not human—not entirely. --- When he woke again, the world was sterile white and humming with machinery. His body was wrapped in sensors, IVs in his arm. Behind a glass wall stood figures in dark suits, murmuring. The woman who finally stepped in introduced herself as Agent Rook of the FBSA. “You saved lives tonight,” she said, placing a file beside his bed. Inside were scans of his body, glowing with strange energy signatures. “But you also revealed something we’ve never documented before.” David frowned. “What are you talking about?” “You weren’t changed by the meteor shower,” Rook said quietly. “You were activated. Your abilities were already there, dormant. Tonight just brought them out.” David’s stomach tightened. His entire life, he had felt…different. Faster to recover from broken bones as a kid. Stronger than his peers, though he always held back. Nights where he swore he could hear his heartbeat louder than the world around him. He had hidden those things, ignored them. Now there was no ignoring. “You’ve always been this,” Rook continued. “You were born with it. And now the world knows.” --- Elsewhere, ripples spread. Fortunata Kalinda snapped out of her trance in an Arachnos stronghold, her mind seared by a sudden flare of psychic resonance. A new presence had awakened—a spark so bright it threatened to eclipse all others. She whispered the name she’d glimpsed in the ether: “David Joseph…” And deep in a private laboratory, Dr. Zayne Draydeon smiled as he adjusted his instruments. The data pouring in from Pittsburgh confirmed what he had long theorized—there was a living key out there, a perfect genetic catalyst. “At last,” he murmured, placing a vial of shimmering liquid into its chamber. “The source has revealed itself.” --- David Joseph didn’t know any of that yet. He only knew the truth that the meteor shower had ripped open: The world was bigger, stranger, and far more dangerous than he had ever imagined. And he was no longer just David Joseph. He was something else. Something the world would soon call… Vitality.

Awesome! Did you make these from actual in game models, or from artwork? If from in game models, could you post them? Thank you

I'm having too much fun with this!

So close!

I play the game almost as if it were a single player game with a main storyline. So I have re-rolled my main multiple times to play through the story from the ground up. It's always fun, and opens up options to try different missions and costumes throughout the leveling journey.

That's only funny when Snarky himself does it.

I agree that Super Speed should be the one travel power without suppression during combat. Maybe even make it so that it removes all travel power suppression while toggled on? That way, if you have both Flight and Super Speed toggled on, you don't lose flying speed while fighting.

If you take Fighting on your Street Justice character, is there any logical reason to take Sweeping Cross over Cross Punch?

Street Justice - Spinning Strike At Combo Level 2 it has a 75% Chance to Knock At Combo Level 3 it has a 65% Chance to Knock Combo Level 3 should be better at everything.