Tyler Foster POV
Yo, what's up, everyone? I'm back, did you miss me?
So, you already know, right? I've unlocked a whole bunch of abilities in my Omniscript. Yup, shapeshifting, changing voices, all that cool stuff. And just for the record, yes, I can totally change into someone else. It's like... magic! My face doesn't even look like mine anymore. I get taller, less... well, 14 years old, and boom, I put on a mask. It's for style, alright? Gotta look cool.
And It's basically a rule when you unlock powers like mine, you gotta add a little style to the mix. Kekeke.
Anyway, enough about me being awesome. Let's get down to it.
"OmniScript," I muttered, grinning to myself, "(Summon my slimy from the inventory)."
Command accepted.
My slime popped into existence right in front of me. His name's Slimy. Yeah, you heard me. Slimy. He's small and squishy but, man, he's cute. I swear, he's the best little sidekick ever.
"Hey, buddy," I whispered to it, grinning down at my slimy companion. "You're gonna help me today. We've got business to handle."
I let out a deep breath as I focused on the mission. Right now, I wasn't some random kid just following the crowd. Oh no, I was way more than that. You see, I knew everything about these mask-wearing guys. I knew it all, and honestly, it wasn't even that hard. Sara almost got kidnapped, and guess who ruined their whole little plan? Yeah, that's right. Me. I was the one who made sure their lame kidnapping attempt failed. Those guys didn't stand a chance.
(But why do I know all this? Why am I so sure about them?)
It's simple, really. Because the second I saw them, I knew: these aren't just any regular kidnappers. Nope. They're hiding something big. I can feel it in my bones. Some kind of mafia? Or, better yet, something supernatural… maybe some high-stakes supernatural mafia. Like, I'm talking global power, evil bosses in dark alleys, and probably a dragon somewhere in the mix. This is the real deal.
I'm not just a regular high schooler, okay? I've got destiny on my side.
"OmniScript," I thought again, "(Show me the map of where those mask guys went)."
And—boom—the map appeared in front of me. It was like the Omniscript had read my mind, and just like that, it laid everything out. Where they went, where they were hiding, where I needed to be to stop them.
I just stared at the map for a second, trying to keep my composure. They think they can run away from me? No way. I was gonna follow them, get the answers, and expose whatever secret organization they were part of.
I glanced down at Slimy, who gave a small wiggle.
"Ready, Slimy?" I whispered. "Let's go save the day. Maybe even stop an evil god while we're at it."
Slimy just wiggled again, like he was giving his seal of approval.
And with that, I turned my attention back to the map. The kidnapper's plan was far from over. But me? I was just getting started. My name would be known—Tyler Foster, slayer of kidnappers, demon slayer (in my head, maybe), and savior of Sara Debeu… even if she didn't know it yet.
You know what they say. Big things are coming. Big things.
Then I clenched my fist dramatically.
(Time to go full protagonist mode.)
As The glowing map shimmered, little red dots pulsing like heartbeats—each one marking the trail of those masked weirdos. They were moving fast. Not like regular creeps, no, these guys were trained. Probably ex-assassins or underground agents. Maybe even from a secret society that controls the world through shadows and overpriced vending machines.
Slimy blinked. Or, well, jiggled in a way I interpreted as blinking. He was clearly ready for action. My faithful companion.
"Omniscript," I whispered again, trying to sound as cool and mysterious as possible. "(Shapeshifting: Urban Phantom Mode. Activate.)"
Command accepted.
In a burst of dark blue light, my clothes shimmered and morphed. Hoodie? On. Scarf? Wind-resistant and perfect. Mask? Sleek, black, with glowing cyan lines. A total upgrade. I looked like someone who belonged in a cyberpunk showdown. Or like the final boss of some sci-fi movies.
(Nice.)
I darted across rooftops—okay fine, I climbed a dumpster, hopped a fence, and tripped once—but in my mind, it was epic. Slimy followed, hopping along and leaving little goopy footprints.
Then I stopped.
There. Below me. An alley. One of the masked dudes were standing near a black van. The classic kind you know is hiding either stolen art, mysterious tech, or someone who says "You're finally awake" when you get close.
I crouched.
Pulled out a gum wrapper.
Wrote a note:
"The shadows see all. Step out again, and I'll be waiting."
– Grim.
I folded it origami-style and tossed it down with pinpoint precision.
...It fluttered into a puddle.
(...damn.)
Didn't matter. The message was sent.
I watched as him looked around. Paranoid. Good. That's what I wanted. To let them know they weren't dealing with just anyone.
They were dealing with Tyler Freaking Foster.
I backed away, disappearing into the shadows like I was trained by ancient ninjas or something. Which, honestly, might not be far off. I did have a dream once where a cat wearing a crown taught me secret techniques in a dojo filled with sushi.
Slimy jiggled approvingly.
"Let's go," I told him. "Phase two begins now."
What's phase two?
…I'll figure that out on the way.
Kekeke.
….
A dented, suspiciously unmarked black van hummed quietly in an alley behind an off-brand supermarket. The night was humid. A single streetlamp flickered overhead, lending just enough dramatic lighting to make everything look like a low-budget spy movie.
Inside the alley, chaos.
"WHERE were you when we were trying to kidnap the girl?!" barked the bald man, his eye twitching violently as he glared at Bear Mask, who was squatting on top of a crate eating cheese puffs from a bag he'd definitely stolen.
Bear Mask looked up slowly and mumbled through orange-dusted fingers:
"Hehehe… sorry. I was, uh… trying to poop. You know, priorities."
There was a full five seconds of complete silence.
Then the bald man dragged a hand down his face and sighed like someone who realized mid-heist that he'd hired the world's worst escape room team.
"This idiot…"
He turned next to Dog Mask and Fox Mask, who were currently fighting over a half-empty Capri Sun.
"Where is Roni?!"
Before either could answer, in came Lizard Mask—real name Roni—sprinting down the alley like he was being chased by a flaming goose.
"BOSS! BOSS!" Roni shouted, nearly tripping over a crate as he held up a crumpled piece of paper like it was a winning lottery ticket.
The bald man reached out with the patience of a dad at his breaking point. "Give me that.
The letter was hand-scrawled in what looked like blue gel pen on a slightly sticky gum wrapper. It read:
"The shadows see all. Step out again, and I'll be waiting."
– Grim.
Silence.
Awkward, thick silence.
Dog Mask stopped wrestling with the Capri Sun straw.
Fox Mask dropped his cheap dollar-store knife.
Roni stood there like he expected applause.
Everyone turned to look at the bald man.
"…Grim?" he asked finally.
Fox Mask scratched his cheek under the mask. "Like, the Grim Reaper?"
Bear Mask tilted his head. "Nah, I think it's some vigilante. Or a goth middle schooler?"
Dog Mask squinted at the note. "What if he's part of the government's secret shadow division? You know, the one that watches people through vending machines?"
The bald man blinked.
(WHY ARE ALL OF YOU LIKE THIS.)
He crumpled the letter into a sad little ball and tossed it over his shoulder.
"Idiots. We're five grown men with discount Halloween masks and a van. There's no secret agent after us— maybe it's just one guy."
Bear Mask raised a hand. "Actually, I think the slime was watching me. It blinked."
Fox Mask gasped. "THE SLIME WAS SENTIENT?!"
The bald man turned and smacked his forehead against the van door.
….
Meanwhile, high above them on a rusty fire escape, Tyler Foster peeked from behind a vent, crouched like a rogue ninja mage in training.
He whispered to Slimy, who jiggled loyally at his side:
"They're scared. My message worked. Now they know…"
"...the Phantom of the Shadows has awakened."
(Kekekeke.)
…
Back below, the bald man rubbed his temples.
"Alright, change of plans. We lay low for now. Maybe… maybe go back to regular crimes. Like cable fraud. Or fake Pokémon cards. Something normal."
Fox Mask raised his hand.
"Do we still get pizza tonight?"
The bald man stared.
"...Yes. But you're not choosing the toppings this time."
….
Minutes later
The gang of discount villains had just barely begun to debate pizza toppings—Fox Mask was arguing violently for pineapple when—
BOOOOM!
A loud metallic CLANG echoed through the alley as the dumpster lid slammed open with enough force to startle a passing raccoon into early retirement.
Everyone froze.
Weapons (read: dollar-store knives and one suspiciously bent crowbar) were half-raised—Except for Bear Mask, who immediately dropped into a fetal position and whispered
"Not the rats again… please… they bite the soul…"
Then came the hiss.
Fssshhh—!
Thick mist poured from the dumpster, curling along the concrete like someone had just dropped a fog machine into a microwave. It wrapped the area in a dramatic mist cloud that definitely didn't smell great.
From the mist, a figure rose.
A towering shadow cloaked in a long, black hooded coat— Sleek, black, with glowing cyan lines. His face was hidden behind a sleek, angular mask, a fusion of kabuki, cyberpunk, and middle school sketchbook dreams. Glowing blue eyes gleamed through the mask's slits, ominous and unnecessarily cool.
On his shoulder…
A jiggling slime. Glowing faintly. Bioluminescent and squishy. Clearly proud to be there.
Fox Mask squinted. "Is that… a slime?"
Dog Mask gasped. "Bro, Slime isn't real! That's a video game thing! That's like Final Fantasy, man!"
He glanced again.
Slimy blinked at him.
"Oh shit, it really is a slime."
The bald man gritted his teeth, sweat starting to gather on his forehead.
"WHO ARE YOU?!"
The figure stood tall, backlit by the mist and the moonlight like this was a budget
Marvel spin-off.
The voice that responded was deep, cool, and disturbingly smooth—like someone had fused Batman, a late-night DJ, and a Tumblr roleplayer.
"You may call me… Grim."
The gang visibly tensed.
Lizard Mask gasped. "WAIT. The letter guy?!"
The bald man narrowed his eyes. "Grim…?"
Tyler—aka Grim—took a step forward, the slime still happily bouncing on his shoulder.
"Yes. I'm the one who warned you."
"I'm the one who foiled your sad little attempt to capture that girl."
"I'm the one who walks in shadows, whispers in silence, and uses my fist only for justice."
The gang stood frozen.
Dog Mask squinted. "…Why are you doing this? Like, for real?"
Fox Mask, whispering "Is he… is he from the future?"
Bear Mask, whispering louder "Or the Shadow Realm?"
Tyler raised his arm. Lightning strike behind him swish effect like power rangers.
He flipped his coat, revealing dozens of random pockets, none of which had a purpose.
"Because you dared touch the balance of the world."
I, Grim, have vowed to protect the peace of this town—"
pause for dramatic effect
"—and also because you are evildoers."
(He was 14. But due to his shapeshifting powers, he had made himself look like a badass 25-year-old secret agent with stubble and cheekbones sharp enough to slice cheese.)
The bald man stepped back, flustered. "So you're not with the government?"
"No," Tyler said, voice echoing, even though there was no reverb in the alley.
"I am the government... of vengeance."
Lizard Mask fainted.
Bear Mask scream like a girl after he heard about the government thingy.
Bald mask, pulled out a crowbar. "Okay, look, I don't know what's happening, but we need to do something boys!!"
Now Fight time.
Tyler pointed at them, cloak flaring dramatically (thanks to his system).
"Very well. If you seek to challenge fate—"
"Then allow me to grant you an audience with destiny's left hook."
To be continue