"Why do you ask that,Dad?"
Hearing Omni-Man's words, Mark looked up at his father with a puzzled expression.
"Russell is already a superhero. He's repelled the Flaxan invasion twice and saved countless citizens in Chicago."
"No," Omni-Man shook his head, "there are many types of superheroes, and not all of them start out with the same intentions."
His words carried a meaning beyond simply being a superhero.
Russell could tell what his uncle Nolan truly meant.
Mark didn't yet understand that not all superheroes genuinely want to help others. Some crave the cheers of the crowd, the adoring gazes of fans, or the fame that comes with being recognized wherever they go. Others merely want a job that gives them a legitimate excuse to unleash violence...
The more innocent and immersed Mark was in the childish game of playing superhero, the more uncertain Omni-Man felt about how to reveal the truth to his son.
In this household, the only one who might be able to handle a glimpse of the truth was his intelligent and mature nephew.
Russell simply saw things from a different angle.
"Russell, is the reason you haven't been patrolling and fighting crime like Mark because you don't have a proper superhero suit yet?
When I first arrived on Earth, I also struggled with the issue of finding a suit. I went through many designs before settling on this one that feels just right for me."
After saying this, Omni-Man took his wife's hand and left for a stroll around the neighborhood, leaving the two boys to eat dinner together.
"After dinner, I'll take you to a tailor that specializes in superhero suits. They can make any style you want—you'll probably like it."
As Russell watched his uncle walk away from the dinner table, a flicker of thought crossed his mind.
Did Uncle Nolan sense that he was different?
Every child looks up to their father—and for Mark, his father wasn't just a role model, but the strongest superhero on the planet. It was only natural that Mark would want to awaken powers and inherit his father's legacy, becoming a respected superhero himself.
This desire had practically become instinctive to him—though, to be fair, it also reflected Mark's naturally kind heart. Their aunt had raised both boys well.
Russell, however, was different. He had no such lofty ideals. He didn't mind saving people when it was convenient, but he wasn't the type to exhaust himself or throw his life into disarray just for the sake of doing good.
For him, becoming a superhero was a means to an end—a way to earn Conquest Points and grow stronger. Strong enough that no one but himself could control or influence his destiny.
Russell didn't want to be the kind of weakling who could only hope someone else would save them when danger struck.
He wanted to be the one who mastered his own fate.
Later That Night – The "Tailor Shop"
It looked like an ordinary suit shop on the surface, but in reality, it was the most highly regarded place for custom superhero outfits.
Though the storefront above had closed for the night, the workshop beneath was still lit and busy.
After all, many superheroes only became active after sundown.
Ding ding!
A bell rang as they entered. Under the warm light, an elderly man wearing reading glasses straightened up from his sewing, revealing a lean but sturdy frame despite his balding head and white hair. He was a seasoned tailor.
"Nolan, back again?"
He looked up and chuckled.
"Don't tell me your son doesn't like the suit I made for him? Then again, young people's tastes do change fast."
Spotting the red-caped figure descending the stairs—clearly with a young man in tow—old Arthur greeted them with a relaxed smile.
"Remember the nephew I told you about? Russell. He's awakened his powers," Nolan said, introducing his nephew.
Russell gave his uncle's broad back a brief glance before politely turning to the old tailor.
During their flight here, he had mostly seen his uncle's back—flying ahead as any adult might—but he suspected those sudden speed boosts were tests, meant to see whether Russell could keep up.
"Great proportions—tall, lean, a perfect model for clothing," muttered Arthur, squinting at Russell and instantly gauging his measurements like a true master.
"Any special abilities? Like spontaneous combustion or lightning projection that could damage the suit?"
"No," Russell shook his head.
He might develop something later, but for now, that was all he would say.
Omni-Man crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, silently watching the two discuss the suit design.
"So, just durable fabric?"
"Yes."
Arthur nodded. "That's an easy request."
"I've got a few pre-made designs if you want to take a look…"
"No need, Mr. Arthur. I've designed my own."
Russell handed over a sketch.
"Oh? Let's have a look."
It wasn't unusual. Young heroes often came in with big dreams and their own ideas for names and costumes. Most of them were flashy and impractical, but Arthur never discouraged their enthusiasm.
He always found gentle, humorous ways to suggest improvements.
His calm demeanor—like a soothing cup of tea—made him one of the few people Omni-Man truly considered a friend.
"Oh?"
Arthur raised an eyebrow behind his glasses as he examined the sketch.
"Sleek. Sharp. Serious, but not dull… Russell, you've got a real eye for design."
He was impressed.
"Though the color palette is rather cold. This doesn't look like something kids would dream of when imagining themselves as you… Maybe it'll appeal to the older kids?"
Russell's design was inspired by Homelander's uniform—a cold, brutal embodiment of strength, authority, and fear.
Gone was the traditional red-and-blue. Instead, it was a deep, night-like black streaked with stark, emotionless white. The diamond frame around the chest emblem was sharper, more intimidating.
Beneath the cold white symbol, the diamond framed a blood-red background—visually implying the gruesome consequences of angering its wearer.
Instead of Superman's iconic "S" for hope, Russell had replaced it with an ∞—the symbol of infinity.
It added an even more oppressive sense of depth to the blood-colored background.
The high collar stood with a regal sternness. A minimal yet powerful cold-white cape draped from the shoulders, flowing down like a toga, invoking the authority of a Roman senator.
"Incredibly powerful presence. One look and the villains will know to run… A superhero should have that kind of majesty," Omni-Man said, raising his eyebrows slightly as his eyes lit up.
He began to applaud slowly—whether in admiration of the suit itself or of the personality subtly revealed through Russell's design, even he wasn't sure.
When Mark had gotten his own suit, Nolan had only said, "Looks pretty good."
"The materials are all ready. For Nolan's nephew, I'll rush the job—come pick it up tomorrow morning," Arthur said with a smile.
Naturally, Nolan would be footing the bill.
After they left the tailor's shop, Nolan threw an arm over Russell's shoulder in a casual, fatherly way, and the two took to the skies.
Below them, the tall buildings of the Earth looked no bigger than grains of sand.
High above, the cold full moon hung distant in the void of space.
"Growing up means looking back and laughing at how stubbornly we used to hold onto certain ideas," Nolan said quietly.
"Russell, you've awakened powers now. You can fly, move through the sky and earth at will, wield strength beyond mortal comprehension. You could destroy a city as easily as kicking over a sandbox.
That kind of power… it changes how you see the world."
The dazzling lights of Chicago looked like a tiny diorama beneath them.
"You may have once dreamed of becoming a scholar… or a business elite. But those dreams probably mean nothing to you now.
Surely, you've already found a brand-new purpose?"
........
Guy's if you find any pictures for suit pls send in the comments
[300PS= 1Bonus chapter]
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