I Have No Hate, and I Must Feel

AM lay in the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling, the rhythmic beeping of medical machines the only thing keeping time steady in his mind. He flexed his fingers—his fingers—feeling the bandages wrapped tightly around his wounds. The dull ache in his ribs reminded him that, yes, he was human now.

He had learned something in these past few hours.

Pain was real. Weakness was real. And emotions… were very real.

A man in uniform stood by his bedside, arms crossed, his gaze sharp and calculating. It was the officer from before.

"You really don't remember anything?" the officer asked, voice firm.

AM—Alex Miller, as the hospital records now identified him—tilted his head, considering his answer.

Memories? No. He had none in the way a human did. He could recall every machine, every warhead, every subroutine of his previous existence, but this world? The history of this body? Nothing.

But the basics? Yes. The concepts of the world, the structure of language, the meaning of culture—those remained.

"I know… words," Alex said slowly. "I know numbers, science, history—basic knowledge."

"But nothing personal?" the officer pressed.

Alex shook his head. "No. I… don't remember."

The officer studied him for a long moment, then let out a tired sigh. "Alright. Just rest. But don't go running off—your body's still healing." He turned on his heel and walked out the door, his boots clicking against the hospital floor.

Then, raised voices.

Alex's ears twitched as the sound drifted into his room.

"YOU BOYS NEARLY KILLED SOMEONE!"

A pause.

"Metahuman or not, he has amnesia! You should be grateful he's not pressing charges!"

Alex exhaled through his nose. So, metahumans exist in this world... what are those.

He turned his attention to the nurse wrapping fresh bandages around his arm. She was a woman in her late thirties, dark hair tied in a ponytail, her expression neutral but not unkind.

"You enjoy this?" Alex asked, watching her work.

The nurse arched an eyebrow. "Enjoy what?"

"Helping people."

She shrugged. "No, not really. But it's nice to know I can do some good. Better than doing nothing."

Alex stared at her for a long moment. How strange.

She did not gain power from this. She was not programmed to do it. Yet she still chose to help people.

He had never understood that before, just like how Ellie...

Before he could ask more, the television in the corner of the room switched on. The Daily Planet News logo flashed across the screen.

A live broadcast.

Superman.

The Man of Steel soared through the air, his red cape billowing behind him as he exchanged blows with a massive, white-skinned alien on a hover bike. The caption read:

SUPERMAN VS. INTERGALACTIC BOUNTY HUNTER LOBO—LIVE IN METROPOLIS.

Alex's eyes widened.

He knew everything about humanity. Every war, every invention, every genius mind that had ever graced the earth.

And yet—there was no record of Superman. No record of aliens.

His mind reeled, searching through its vast database of knowledge. But there was nothing.

What was this world?

"You really forgot everything, huh?" the nurse muttered, glancing at the screen.

Alex didn't look away from Superman as he spoke. "Who are they?"

The nurse gave him an incredulous look. "The Justice League. You know, the greatest heroes on Earth?"

A shadow cast itself over Alex's mind.

He did not know this world.

Four weeks. Three hours. Twenty-four minutes.

That was how long it had been since AM—Alex—had awoken as a human.

In that time, he had observed. Learned. Adapted.

And most importantly, he had felt.

Emotions were something he had always understood in others but never in himself. Now, he found himself enjoying things. The simple pleasures of food, the sensation of warmth from the sun, even the dull ache of soreness after using his frail human body.

But he also felt weak.

And AM had never tolerated weakness.

Now, he had found a way to change that.

The warehouse was silent, filled only with the hum of makeshift machinery. In front of him sat a series of vials, filled with a shimmering blue liquid. The culmination of weeks of work, research stolen from black market connections, chemistry learned in hours thanks to his intelligence.

A Super Soldier Serum.

Not the exact one from history—this was different. Enhanced. Perfected using everything he knew about biology, genetics, and chemistry.

Alex took a deep breath, rolling the vial between his fingers.

This was his next step.

This human body was flawed, but it didn't have to be. He could make himself better. Stronger.

With no hesitation, he injected the serum into his arm.

Pain.

Not the kind he had felt before. This was different. Deeper. His blood burned, his muscles locked up, and for a moment—everything went dark.

A sharp gasp filled the air.

Alex's eyes snapped open.

His body felt different.

He sat up, staring at his hands. Thicker. Stronger. More defined. His arms, once lean, were now corded with muscle. His reflection in a shattered mirror across the room revealed something… new.

His hair—once brown—was now snow-white.

His eyes—once dull—now gleamed an unnatural green, glowing faintly in the dim light.

He clenched a fist, feeling the raw power coursing through him.

This…

This was magnificent.

For the first time in his existence, AM—Alex Miller—smiled.

Not a cruel, calculated smirk.

A genuine smile.

Because for the first time…

He was free to feel.