Sometimes the smallest of changes can have a catastrophic consequence to an individual's perception, or thought, or philosophy. Sometimes it takes just a glimpse. For Edward Nygma, it took the world descending into dystopia.
You've seen it before: Earth-3, the Antimatter Universe. When society finds itself stifled by oppression, one man always swims against the mainstream. The catalyst is what varies -- or rather, it's who varies. No longer satisfied with his manipulation games and shadow-string pulling, Eddie has since dedicated his talents to the resistance. He's an intelligence operative, an encoder and a decoder, a man who deals information for the sake of free speech. He's all about connections and knowledge. His motivation isn't much of a riddle, he doesn't do it for the greater good, nor for some pandering image of mankind.
He does it for a better world for his family. He does it for Felicia Hardy.
But heroism has its cost.
The time is 2019.
He had no regrets, not at first. Even after his captured by lawman Norman Osborn. Even after the first few months with a totalitarian Katurian, sunk in the shadows of torment and solitude and punishment, he had no regrets. And after the brainwashing, after the re-education and painful confirmation, Eddie didn’t need to ever consider regrets again. It was an unlearning he was taught from Katurian himself, after months upon months of darkness. It was Katurian he owed, that cruel monster he was now so deeply devoted to.
The time is late autumn, 2020. Eddie has been released into the world again, after a year and some months. He doesn’t know he has a son, he doesn’t know where Felicia is – but he knows his purpose.
It’s the one Katurian gave him. And Eddie knows how to love now.
Six months have passed since Edward was released from his overlord's tightening grip. Five months and two weeks since he attempted (and failed) to assassinate the obscured hermit Mitchell Hundred. Four months since he cut out the deepened trackers from his flesh. Three months since he refused to return to The Interior for his consequence. Two months since he questioned the last of his orders, clawing at his screaming brain to wrench dry his torment, his brainwashing.
One month since he grew bloodthirsty for Norman Osborn. The man who tipped this domino.
Edward Nygma still wakes, soaked in night sweat, with limbs wrought with tremors. But at least he remembers who he is, now. At least he's reclaimed his agency, he thinks.
But he doesn't have full control of himself, not yet. He hasn't washed the blood from his hands. And the wrong whisper, the pinpoint flashback -- he could turn on his friends, his comrades. Edward Nygma is nuclear and in disconnect, and riddled with betrayal. Even on his good days.
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Six months have passed since Edward was released from his overlord's tightening grip. Five months and two weeks since he attempted (and failed) to assassinate the obscured hermit Mitchell Hundred. Four months since he cut out the deepened trackers from his flesh. Three months since he refused to return to The Interior for his consequence. Two months since he questioned the last of his orders, clawing at his screaming brain to wrench dry his torment, his brainwashing.
One month since he grew bloodthirsty for Norman Osborn. The man who tipped this domino.
Edward Nygma still wakes, soaked in night sweat, with limbs wrought with tremors. But at least he remembers who he is, now. At least he's reclaimed his agency, he thinks.
But he doesn't have full control of himself, not yet. He hasn't washed the blood from his hands. And the wrong whisper, the pinpoint flashback -- he could turn on his friends, his comrades. Edward Nygma is nuclear and in disconnect, and riddled with betrayal. Even on his good days.