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Why I think that John is right.

I personally find is mind boggling that students in the comic, and the reader in real life do see how john came to this. How after he went through hell during that year with Keon, and clawed his way out, To limit himself from hurting anyone.

So let me break it down for you guys.

Here is some context:
John has been king for about a month or two, Max. And after doing what almost every student in the school did to him, back onto then, Threw the entire school into chaos. John was in wellston for 2 years, and practicality every day he was in that school building, he was beaten up. He had close relation ship with the nurse how often he went there to get patched up. He always had to deal with the fact that at any moment, some dickhead might come flying at him and beat him up for no reason. He deals with it, he lives with a constant target on his back, when he could always defend himself because he did not want to repeat New Bostin. Arlo, Who i will be referring to as Omega Dick, Decides, hey. Based on my sources, this kid could either be the literal strongest person in the world, or just a cripple with balls the size of new Hampshire. He test his luck and rolls double ones on a Damage check (The other D20 would be the two other dudes that came with Arlo.) He gets his ass beat, and instead of leaving john alone and keeping his place as king. He gets shaky. He makes it so that things he could Have prevented slip between his fingers. So john decides, Fuck it, Ill do what Omega Dick wants, ill take my position in the hierarchy. and my first order of business, is Burning it to the fucking ground. While I understand he might be excessive, But its not like that hasn't happened to them too. And what he is doing is technically in his right as king, and he hasn't done a fraction of what the school did to him back at it.

Now lets think of what John is doing in the 4 Main perspectives of Unordinary.

1: Low Tier
John had to deal with bullying left right and center. His only line of defense could only do so much, and in this case was very very little, and he was living miserably. Everyone in the school was against him, from fellow low tiers, to the literal king and royals of the school. Digging into his past, invading his privacy, the works. And he has the tools to give back Just and true retribution. He uses his power to not only destroy the hierarchy, but also shake the beliefs of the high tiers that either contributed to the bullying; or turned a blind eye to it, deciding it was better if they chose to ignore the issue. Besides, they were high tiers, what are a couple of low tiers gonna do to them. Under Johns rule, Low tiers are able to fight against the people who have wronged them, and have a shining beacon of hope in john, as the weakest punching bad of the school, was now both in power, but also giving power to them as an entire tier of people. In the end the Low tier perspective of john actions seems both reasonable, and a net positive for them.

2: High Tier
John was a punching bag, something to push their problems onto. something to relieve their stress. they didn't care what he thought, hell they didn't care what anyone under them thought. Besides, in the wise words of Seraphina, Arguing with them was a waste of time, there was no need to explain to someone who is weaker then you if you can just punch the other opinion out of them. That is the understanding of the world in the high tiers minds. So with that, John is right about literally everything. What was the point in explain why the hierarchy when he could just crush it with his bare hands. Now that the shoe was on the other foot, everything seems evil, and immoral. even thought he was doing the exact same thing they did, to them, as he was in every way their superior.

3: The Reader
As a reader, we hold a certain level of bias towards characters. And while i could go on a whole spiel on the philosophy of readers bias, ill keep it short and sweet. Because we are reading for a omniscient perspective we hold each character to a standard based on their importance to the story. How each character should act or behave based on their role in the overall plot. This bias is why many people dislike current John. He is not fulfilling his role as the Main Character. Not acting like he "should". not holding himself to the same standards that we hold him too(The Influence of Reader Stereotypes on the Assessment of Fictional Characters By Jan Auracher and Akiko Hirose). Rather most people are connecting more to Remi's Squad + Seraphina and Omega Dick. More-so Blake as we follow him in his chivalrous quest to defeat a tyrant. If you pull back that bias for a second to see how fucked up John is internally from both the Incident at New Bostin and his new struggles to find a place where he isn't doing something wrong for just existing. Even when fighting back, or fighting at all, which every one in the Unordinary Universe does, Punching their problems away. You cant truly see both how far he has come, even currently. And how far he has fallen. Both for good reason.

4: John
John is trying to find a place where he belongs. A place where no matter who your are, no matter what your level is, no matter the past you have, and no matter your what you have done, you are still and always will be welcome. Yet some how that is never the case. In New Bostin, when he really was a cripple, he was bullied, at no fault of his own. when he gained to power to fight back. He did using his full power just as others used theirs on him. Yet somehow, even when he was just doing as others do, He was seen as the villain. He went through hell With Keon, and exited a broken shell of a man. He was barely brought back by his father, The one man that John still, and always will trust. He decide to make himself go through hell, trusting that other people would see the world, and others, as people saw him. yet no one did. He had to go through constant hell while stopping himself from absolutely massacring the entire school. He opened his walls more and more to people as he though he found a place where he belonged. Then Omega Dick Betrayed him. Then Sera lost her ability, and got betrayed by the entire school. Then he had to take it into his own hands. He took what Omega Dick said and ran with it. He was supposed to be at the top of the hierarchy, and he would have his rules put into place. He was going to destroy house of card that school called its foundation one, by one. And so he did, taking his rightful place as king and suddenly. He's the villain. His only anchor to reality, the only person who was able to talk him out of it betrays him, acting like she actually knew how it felt to be a cripple, after only not having her ability for a few months in comparison to his 2 years were he had to deal with everything she did, without someone as reliable as arlo, or even himself as protection. And from then on its the classic story of a deranged king, trying to go down with his flourishing kingdom. And then the worst happens. A safe room is placed up. To protect people from him. Not that bad of an idea, but whats with the timing. where was the safe room when he needed it. When he was the person everyone attacked. where was this haven for him. Nothing could go right if John was involved. So he would make it so that everything went wrong. John needed help. He needed therapy, he needed something like the safe room years ago, he needed people who he could hold onto, but everyone turns their back on him.(This is what Interpret as Johns Mindset right now, take it with a grain of salt.) Wont be too long till his Pops thinks hes a monster, His mom probably left because of him. He is a Ticking Nuke ready to go off.

IMO John is in the right, every single way you slice it, people look at John the wrong way. Be that as a punching bag, An ideal MC, or even himself as a a bomb no one could love. John just had it rough, so he does as others do, he learns to follow the rules of the world he lives in, and people hate him for it.

Please tell me what you think.
submitted by Shnooji to unOrdinary

You Don't Kill Larvae

The Hive continues to expand beyond our wildest expectations. Worlds are assimilated. Weaklings burn. And here I am, an elite war-breed, born to lead The Hive's armies in glorious conquest, a warrior whose victorious spoils are counted in entire worlds, sitting in the bloody wake of the most disappointing battle I have ever fought.
I had received orders from The Queen that I was to lead my personal squadron to annihilate a potential hive cluster from an altogether foreign species that had strayed into our territory. Naturally, I accepted with the utmost loyalty and glee, joyous in the prospect of wetting my blades on the blood of worthy enemies. I set out immediately with my squadron to the coordinates listed in the report. Soon after arrival in the sector, my lookout spied the foreign object, and we sped headlong into combat. The exterior of the hive cluster in question was smooth, rounded, subtly reflective, and marred with colours whose shapes we could discern no purpose from; it was a substance we soon conjectured to be a form of polished chitin not too dissimilar to that which shielded our own transport-breed. Regardless of its shell, I knew we had a glorious duty to perform, and I commanded the mind-driver to bring us in for a headlong assault.
The mind-driver commanded our transport-breed to envelop the hive cluster with its forelimbs and take it into its jaws. Once inside its oral chamber, the transport-breed's proboscis was put to work, slowly dissolving the chitin of the hive cluster with an acidic solution; the substance and its method of delivery had only been recently added to the sequence of its breed, and they were something I was all too willing to use. I assembled my squadron and waited, ready and eager to show these upstart weaklings the glory of The Hive. It took some time, and the smell was noxious, but before long, the cluster's armor gave way, and the path was clear for battle. We charged into the wound, hoping for the kind of battle that would circulate the All-Mind back at our native hive for countless generations to come.
Instead, we found an empty cavity. It was smooth, and made of the same shell that coated its exterior. White bioluminescent light spilled into every corner from rigid sacs embedded into the ceiling of the hall we entered. More illegible markings were visible on every surface; it was in this moment that I realized that said marking may in fact have a purpose, but what, I could not discern. My squadron followed me as I raced down the corridor, and we soon came into contact with a blockage of the same material as seemingly everything else on this Queen forsaken vessel. I ordered the mind-driver to seek out my location with the proboscis, and I had my squadmate direct the tip to the blockage. A hole was soon burned through.
The sound of an explosion ripped through the air, and the top of the transport-breed's proboscis was pierced by an unseen force. I ordered a squadmate to look through the hole, and when they did, their head was promptly torn asunder by another unseen force, I presumed the same. In this moment, I grew furious; who were these lowly creatures to not only cower behind a shield, but to deny us the glory of true combat by tearing us apart with this, thing of theirs? It was no matter, however, for if they were not to fight us of their own volition, then we would force them to. Luckily, the proboscis was still functional, given some rudimentary clearing of viscera, and it was put to work melting the blockage. But I didn't have it melt right through the substance, but rather most of the way through, leaving only a sliver of material remaining to keep it held together. As this process was undertaken, I heard from the other side of the blockade the sound of what I conjectured to be the upstart species encroaching on our rightful territory. They were shrill and unceasing; I wished in the moment to drive my blades through them if only to make them cease their wailing. Luckily, we soon heard no more of the creatures' noise, and we were left to work in peace.
Soon, though, my stratagem was completed, and the shield was held together only by a thin sheet of chitin. The bulkiest of my squadron, alongside myself, packed ourselves tight and crouched low ahead of the remainder of my forces. And upon my command, we, in unison, charged the blockade with all our might, and it shattered and fell to the floor with a mighty thud. We were in.
The defenders killed another of our number with their unknown methods, wounding two more, but were quickly slain in return on the tips of our blades. Their flesh yielded easily, as they lacked the exoskeletal plating we enjoy. The battle was over in a flash.
The rush of combat having passed, I took a moment to study the pair of creatures daring enough to intrude on our territory. They were larger than I, and with only four limbs in comparison to our twelve; their bodies, hidden beneath layers of fabric as was typical of less hardy races, were coated in a spongy flesh that offered little to nothing in protection, and they lacked in anything that could be considered competent natural weapons, no blades or horns or sharp mouthparts could be seen. We noted that they were covered almost completely in fine hairs, but they lacked the rigidity that made ours so effective as sensory organs. All in all, this race appeared to have no evolutionary advantages or purpose, seeming in all areas to be bred fit for little more than fodder for The Hive. Curiously, they carried on their persons a tool made of the same kind of chitinous material that surrounded us. In exploring it, my squadmate accidentally discharged it into the already wounded leg of a soldier, severing the limb completely. In that moment, I understood what had killed my subordinates. I ordered that the devices be brought in for study at our native hive, along with the bodies of the defenders.
There was more vessel to explore, however, and I would not rest until every nook and cranny was thoroughly explored, and every single one of these primitive, useless beasts snuffed from existence. We scoured every corridor and every corner of every chamber we came across, finding nothing. That was until we returned to our original entry point and looked past the battleground. I suspected that there was something behind the defenders, but I was damned if I would not be present for it. I had the soldiers standing by move out of the way so the proboscis could make its way through, and began the same process of melting the obstruction. Once we burned through, we once again heard that same grating wail and chattering in a tongue we neither understood nor cared to understand. This time, I was determined to snuff out the noise permanently. Luckily, our efforts this time were not impeded by the same tools of destruction that hampered our righteous culling the last time. Once more we put the proboscis to work cutting a hole out of the blockade, and this time, there was no charge necessary; to the horrid tune of these creatures' cries, the shield fell flat to the ground, and all was silent.
At the lack of defensive measures arrayed against us, I took a moment to study the numbers we were to slaughter. Fifty strong, with ten of the same breed of beast stood defensively in front of the remainder. The rest, however, appeared to be smaller, misshapen breeds of the same species. This was proof enough in my mind that their purpose was colonization, for what could these smaller forms be, but larvae? I gave the order, and in mere moments scored by the same shrill wailing and punctuated by their ceasing, it was over.
At length, the rest of the colonization pod was scoured, and determined to have no more sport to hunt. I had it cast into the bile pit to sustain the transport-breed, and ordered that we return to the hive. The Queen would be glad to hear of our success.

The information we could glean from the corpses of those creatures was scant, the only scraps of intelligence we could truly decipher using out mind-scrapers was that one: they feared us, as they should. And two: the vessel we destroyed was not for the purposes of colonization, but rather served as a tool for education, for the purposes of taking their larvae on a trip to observe the universe. I myself have a hard time believing that this is the case, and think rather that this was what they were told before they left their hive. A third message, damaged beyond legibility mentioned "more". I had tasted their machines, and even without such advantages, my intellect and our blades were more than enough to tear them apart. I fear nothing from whatever forces they may muster in revenge. Let them come so I may wet my blades in the righteous act that is wiping their kind from the face of the univer- BANG!
Something rocks the transport-breed, throwing me to the floor. What was that? "Tell me, mind-driver! What struck us?!" I bellow.
"Another vessel, leader!" it responds. "It appears to be from the same species!"
"What weapons did they hit us with?! Bile missiles?" I ask, eager to know our chances of victory.
"They hit us with, the vessel, leader!"
... "What?"
"I am attempting to fend them off, but they are formidable, le-"
BANG! The transport-breed rocks again. The mind-driver screams in agony, and collapses to the floor, clutching its arm. "What is happening?! answer me!" I demand of it.
"Le-leader! They have severed the right forelimb with an explosion from their chitin-tools!" it says between groans of pain. Before I can properly process its words, it screams again and quickly falls silently in a heap on the floor. At the same moment, everything within the transport-breed slackens for an instant, then returns to normal; the mind-driver has fallen into shock, and its connection with the transport-breed is severed.
I order my soldiers to take defensive positions, and that the secondary mind-driver take their post. They do, and the proboscis is quickly poised to strike. But again, they groan in pain, slowly withdrawing on themselves, clutching at their head. They too scream and collapse to the floor atop their superior. "They are breaking in through the head! Be ready!" I yell. In truth, part of me is excited to face foes of such might as to incapacitate a transport-breed.
I group with my squadron and we make for the transport-breed's head, near the bottom of the creature. By the time we arrive, we can see the impacts begin to push inward on out transport's flesh, and everything begins to shudder and slowly slacken. Finally, everything falls limp; the transport-breed is dead.
And here we stand, on the fringe of the Queen's dominion, with nowhere to go. We fight here for the Queen, knowing that the battle will never be heard of by any of our kin. But we don't care; we were literally born for this. More impacts shake the chamber, and my squad arranges itself in ambush positions, ready to pounce from any and every angle.
We tense in anticipation and finally, something breaks through. It is large; easily the size of my entire body, and entirely encased in a glossy shell. It retracts slightly, with another of its kind joining it in the gap made in the transport-breed's flesh. Then they part, tearing asunder the wall of the chamber and threatening to pull us into the void beyond. But we hold firm, digging into the walls, ceiling, and floor where we wait, and we observe what we can only assume to be the warriors of this upstart species.
The first dawns into the room, and we quickly realize that the tool that broke through the wall was little more than an appendage of the goliath that steps through the freshly-torn hole in the wall. Its body is coated entirely in chitin, with the same shape as those inferior beasts we culled prior. From their heads, piercing lights peer out of pitch black shell coating their faces, and we know that they can see all of us, but still we hold firm. Then another steps through the wound gouged by the first; this is going to be the greatest and most glorious battle in the history of the dominion.
"CHARGE!" I command, and the entirety of my squadron leap into action. Upon contact with their bodies, they spasm violently, and fall to the ground, dead. I realize in that moment that these are not soldiers, they are monsters.
Knowing that I would surely be cut down if I remained, I retreat and make for favourable ground. As I relocated, however, the titanic creatures neglected to give chase. Trusting my gut, I intuit this as a moment of communication between the two, but for what?
I peer around the corner, and all goes black.
I feel chitin press in on me, and I am soon held in the enormous beast's grasp, surprisingly, alive. It holds me up to its head and appears to study me. I can tell that the two are communicating, but I still cannot determine what their message is. Their heads turn to face one another, their heads gyrate downward, and they retreat back through the wound and out into the void, taking me with them.
Prisoner. They are taking me, an elite war-breed born to fight and die for the Queen and the glory of The Hive, prisoner! It is a disgrace on a level I cannot fathom, and I will not stand for it! I attempt to maneuver my blades such that I may die with honor, but the titan's grip is fast, rendering my arms immobile. Soon, we alight on their vessel, far larger than the first, and are taken within. We come down into a large, dark chamber. I feel an impact rock the beast holding me in its grip, and I wait for something, anything to let me know what's happening. That's when a harsh light bathes the chamber, and I witness a sight that chills me to my core: an army's worth of the goliath warriors, all standing stock still in a display of true discipline. This force would be able to take entire worlds on its own; I fight back the horrifying thought that there may in fact be more of these monsters that what is present here.
Before long, I notice movement coming from behind me. I swivel my head to get a good look, and I see three of the small, fleshy variants of these creatures saunter up to the giant beast without fear. They vocalize in a horrid, barking tongue, that is answered by the same language emanating from the titan holding me tightly. The conversation goes back and forth for some time, until finally, the three small beasts leave.
They soon return with a flat slab of some description. One of the small ones bark again, and I am slowly lowered to face them. Their hideous faces contort as they study me; I sling curses their way, I want them to know exactly what I and the rest of my kind thinks of them. Then, they produce a small instrument with a long stinger on the end. I squirm in a vain attempt to avoid its prick, but they inevitably drive the point into my neck. They retract it without killing me, and I begin to laugh at this display of ineptitude, especially in comparison to their prior efforts in death-dealing. But then the room begins to spin, my thoughts grow fuzzy, and I begin to swoon. The last thing I see before I pass out are the three disgusting faces baring their mouthparts.
Pain. Excruciating, mind-raking pain courses through my body. I awake, and look down to see that I am strapped to the slab I saw them bring into the warrior chamber, and that I am disemboweled. I squirm and writhe against my bonds, but to no avail. Then I feel a sharp, burning pain envelop the entirety of my head. I scream in equal parts agony, anger, and utter terror, and pass out again, unsure of my future. Forgive me, my Queen.

Cycles passed, and the squadron was nowhere to be found in any of the hives in the Queen's dominion. She debated sending out another squadron to cover for the obvious abject failure of the first, when she felt a blip in her mind; a transport-breed had returned, of the same bio-signature of the squadron she sent out. She relaxed, safe in the knowledge that her task was completed. But she felt something, a disturbance in the mind of the war-breed tasked with leading her forces, as though it knew its actions weren't its own; it was akin to the odd feeling she got from the transport-breed, as though it were traveling not on its own power. She rationalized this as the results of bloody combat, and relaxed.
Within minutes, the war-breed in question made its presence known in her egg chamber. It appeared haggard as it stumbled toward her, clutching at its stomach, taking as much care as it could in its hobbling not to come into contact with any of the innumerable clutches of eggs strewn about the chamber, their embryos writhing inside their translucent shells, looked over by drones bent only to that purpose. Sentries quickly moved in on the war-breed, bound by their very physiology to defend the Queen and her eggs with every fiber of their being. Soon, they had the intruder bound, and began to lead them away.
The chamber's fleshy walls quivered rhythmically, sending a clear message to the guards. Seat them with me. it meant, the Queen speaking through the chamber. I wish to speak with them.
The guards understood, and lead the war-breed to a sac just outside the egg chamber. The sac filled with fluid, and tendrils extended out of the wall, fusing with the war-breed at the nape of its neck. In an instant, the soldier's mind was connected with that of the Queen's.
Report, war-breed. The soldier could hear their Queen's voice in its mind, it radiated supreme power and authority.
My Queen, the task you sent us to accomplish is complete, the vessel is destroyed. But I tell you now, attacking it was a mistake.
How could the order of your Queen have been a mistake, soldier?
Because you sent me to attack their children, my Queen.
The children they sent to colonize our territory! I will not stand for this insubordination, soldier!
You made an act of war, and they respond in kind. Then, suddenly, its mind seemed to spasm, forcing it to speak in a tone utterly alien to its kind. You don't kill kids, you fucking bug.
In the instant before the nuclear device implanted in her war-breed detonated, the Queen realized what had been troubling the soldier. The Hive was engulfed in nuclear fire faster than any of its inhabitants could comprehend, and it was no more. All that remained was a field of fleshy pulp and ash floating in the void: a monument to the righteous and vengeful wrath of humanity.
Eventually, The Hive passed into memory, then into legend. And before long, it was completely and utterly forgotten.
submitted by TheAusNerd to HFY