Fuxer 2 – Becoming A BOI
The next superhero recruitment option was just two weeks after Xander's birthday.
His dad drove him into New Port City and Xander waited – together with three other boys – in a corporate looking office with some weird medical equipment.
A bit bored, Xander used his super sight on the present company to stare at their naked bodies. They weren't much too look at.
"Hey," said the boy next to him. "I'm Todd. West coast. I can teleport. How about you?"
"Uh," Xander started, feeling dumb. He had just been staring at Todd's crotch. No way was he going to mention his special vision. "Xander. Local `burbs. I'm almost a flying brick and I can muscle up."
He flexed his unenhanced arm without using his power and chuckled nervously.
Todd looked plain, maybe even a bit ugly. It might just have been the `crew cut' that looked more like a lawnmower accident than a hairstyle.
"So... good luck, Todd."
"You too, Xander."
Then a whole slew of people entered, men in lab coats and two masked boys who showed a lot of skin and occupied Xander's attention – until the moment Omen himself entered.
Omen's body was clad in a white and gold costume, so tight it looked painted on safe for the helmet and the light, flowing, golden cape. He was a member of Heroics United - easy to tell by the "Hero-U" badge on his chest.
Xander had researched every A-lister.
Omen was athletic, tall, not quite muscular but definitely to Xander's hero-worshipping taste. Seeing the adult flying-brick, mind-reader and future-seer in real life, Xander's opinion rose even higher. Omen had an overwhelming presence.
"Hello recruits," Omen said, his voice telepathically spoken into Xander's head directly. He and the other teen recruits flinched at the intrusion. "I'm familiar with your applications so let's get right to testing."
Todd was teleporting around – it turned out his power was fairly short range – while Xander ran on the treadmill shirtless.
"We're ready," said a lab coat wearer. "Now please."
Xander para-flexed while running, casually turning into a blond god.
He had carefully chosen a jockstrap with a solid cup to keep his mega-dick from flopping around in his shorts. He was going to stay under dicksposion threshold, just in case.
The other recruits all stopped what they were doing and stared. Fuck yeah, he was worth staring at. He couldn't help but grin.
"Now read the first row again," said the scientist, looking only at his device's screen.
Xander focused his vision on a building a block away – looking through multiple buildings in between - and read numbers off an eye test chart that the team had prepared for him over there.
"Good," said the lab coat man. "Now the middle row, please?"
"Sure thing doc," Xander said and briefly refocused his vision on the testing chamber he was in – just to check everybody was still staring and drooling. Oh yeah, they all had to be jealous as fuck. Then he read the numbers.
"It seems," the scientist said, "that you can see through the 4th dimension. Your muscle up power is possibly connected to this, if my readings are correct. You might be pulling additional mass from the 4th dimension... or something."
One of the masked boys chuckled. "Thanks, doc, that's precise."
Xander suppressed laughter and read the final row. He got to step off the treadmill.
The guys with plain face hoods and visors wore the uniforms of the Brotherhood Of Initiates – "boi" for short.
The sky blue and white uniforms consisted of something like a wrestling singlet but without legs, starting at the bulge like a speedo and traveling up to the chest. Their exposed, hairless limbs were protected by forearm and shin armor that transitioned into white gloves and boots.
The leg-cut singlet was sky blue and was tight enough to show every feature of their physique as if glued onto their skin. Those two had to be training hard. Speaking of hard, one of them had a semi-boner, visible only to Xander's 4D sight.
These bois were B-listers, also known as sidekicks, lacking the battle prowess of a flying brick type. Their chests didn't even carry hero names, just the labels B5 and B7.
The bois were both dark skinned, but their faces were shielded by glass impenetrable to Xander's 4D vision, as was Omen's.
"4D sight and 4D muscles, huh?" said the second masked boy.
"Apparently," Xander said with a casual shrug. Oh yeah, he was the god of the fourth dimension. "Are we done?"
The taller boi gestured toward Omen. "His call."
Two of the recruits were sent home. They had exaggerated on their application and failed. Only Todd and Xander were left.
The next test was on the roof of the skyscraper.
Todd could get higher than Xander could jump by repeatedly teleporting upward. But the teen god – still muscled up and shirtless – could fly higher than Todd's tele-jump and did just that to show off.
The rest of his flight was less impressive, unfortunately. Omen flew close buy and gave instructions.
Xander could stay up without a problem but ascending was a struggle. Flying in a straight line was all right but he could only turn slowly and in a wide arc.
"You're doing well," Omen said, projecting right into Xander's head on the flight back to the building. His golden cape fluttered elegantly. "At your age I was about at that level. We'll see how you develop."
"Does that mean I'm in?" Xander asked out loud. He didn't want to respond in his mind. Too weird.
"One final test. And I'd appreciate if you stopped using your vision on my crotch."
"I! Uh, that! Um, I've... well, I'd appreciate if you didn't read my mind."
"I don't have to. I have eyes. I can see where yours are looking."
"I'm just... trying to figure out your suit. Cause I can see everything but your face."
"Ah," Omen said, absentmindedly rubbing his visor. He seemed satisfied with the explanation. "Yes, this glass is an alien material. Zeal brought it back from Nexus Prime as precaution against people with powers like yours."
"What's Captain Zeal like?"
There was silence for a moment. "We've been on different teams for many years now. I can't remember when I last saw him outside of work."
Yeah, Xander remembered that the two had last been on one team in issue #45 of the Hero Chronicles. Sadly, no intel on his super crush to be gained.
They got back to the roof and Omen lead the way downstairs.
It wasn't a test, it was an interrogation.
Omen sat in the corner, while Xander sat across from the two masked bois.
The one who had made fun of the scientist earlier, B5, had introduced himself as a freshly recruited telepath, specialized in lie detection. He had a slight Caribbean accent, dreadlocks under the face hood and a brown-skinned, athletic body that Xander eagerly took in.
Next to him was the guy who'd had a semi-boner. B7, the `danger detector' was black with a buzz cut. His body was that of a young adult, with perky nipples from lingering, errant arousal. They were obscured by the singlet's smoothing fabric, but could not escape Xander's sight.
"Recruit Xander," B5 said, shaking the blond teen out of his fantasy. "Do you intend to cause harm or detriment to superheroes or to work against their cause?"
"No!"
"Do you hold any secrets that could cause you to do so, such as blackmail material?"
"Uh... No."
"Do you hold something secret that could cause harm or detriment to superheroes or work against their cause?"
"I don't think so... No."
B5 nodded. "Honest."
B7 gave a thumbs up. "Not a threat to be sensed."
"And I've reached for the future of this reality," Omen said, "and seen no catastrophe. But... there is a delicate matter. If words spreads about your ability to see through clothing... We had some difficulties in the past, making female civilians and staff members uncomfortable with clairvoyance powers. I'm..."
Xander took a deep breath and looked directly at the lie detecting sidekick's visor. "I have not used my power to look at women or girls naked and will avoid doing so in the future. That is a principle I live by."
The muscle god suppressed a chuckle and hoped dearly that Omen wasn't going to use his mind reading power or ask follow up questions.
"Wow, holy fu-" B5 said. "I mean, dangit. That's a principled stance, man. No lie."
Omen got up and grabbed Xander's muscular hand. "Welcome aboard, boi."
"Wow, thank you, sir."
"My pleasure, boi." Omen pulled his visor up to reveal a smirking face. He was a dark skinned south Asian with bushy brows. "And you can call me Oliver."
Omen aka Oliver did not stay long, flying off to a rescue mission nearby.
Xander and Todd got to ride in the Boi Wing One – a high-tech jet bound for the BOI headquarter. With them were B5 and B7, now introduced as Jed and Deshawn, who had taken off their masks and armor plates but kept on the skin tight, sky blue singlets. Those were no hindrance for Xander's eyes.
Deshawn, the 20 year old, black danger detector, had a semi boner again, constricted in the solid cup of his singlet.
"Do you ever have to muscle down?" Deshawn asked.
Xander, now wearing a tank top, shrugged his mighty shoulders. "Nah, I could stay like this forever. It's a passive power. Why?" He grinned. "Jealous?"
"Fuck man, who wouldn't be?" Deshawn leaned back in his cushioned seat, lazily spread his naked, muscular legs wide and grabbed a handful of peanuts.
"Don't think we'll go easy on you," Jed said with a smirk, "just cause you're big, 4-D Xander."
Todd chuckled. "Hehe, four-dee Xander. `For dicks ender'."
Xander laughed along but he made a mental note not to let people call him 4-D Xander. Maybe, 4-Xander, or...
"Hm, what do y'all think of 4X as a hero name?" the teen with comic book hero proportions asked.
Jed rolled his eyes. "Earn a right to have a name first, rookie."
Chapter 3: Rise Of 4X