Not only that, but the Flash is so fast that he can’t be contained by one reality. Now, say that to yourself. “I am so fast I can’t be contained by any one reality.” That is overflowing with awesomeness. But it’s just terrible as a pickup line.
This answer is the most correct. You don’t need a healing factor, you could just rewind your own body’s time. If you were in your best shape at 18, you could stay 18. You could let your face age a bit more so you could pass as an adult. You could resurrect anything, just wind time back in a space time bubble around them/it. You could sell eternal youth. As for telepathy solving a crime, as long as it’s not a thought crime, you could use your time travel to solve it after the fact then choose to prevent the crime or prosecute the criminal. You could even stop end of the world scenarios.
Now if I couldn’t have that. I’d choose the ability to understand and manipulate atoms on a ridiculous level, like Dr. Manhattan and Atom Eve.
Since Electricity and Magnetism are the same force, I’m going to go with manipulating Electromagnetism. All the ZAP of Lightning Lad/Lass/Lord, plus the metal bending power of Magneto. Can I get the goofy helmet as part of the package?
Keeping Foolsguinea’s “there can only be one” rule in mind, I’d pick biotic-style gravity manipulation. I promise I’d be careful not to crush anything into a singularity.
Omniscience.
Easy for me: non-corporealness. That is, the ability to walk through walls, or “phase” as Kitty Pryde called it.
Lots of advantages. First, as long as you’re conscious, you’re untouchable. No one can lay a hand on you. Second, you can’t be restrained or locked up. On top of that, you have access to anything, anywhere, so long as you can reach the general location. Finally, it can make a hell of a weapon; as I recall, the Vision used to put his hand inside people’s chests and partially dematerialize their hearts, putting them in immediate cardiac arrest. That’s an attack to fear.
I’ve always dreamed of having the power to emit, on command, powerful fumes from a concealed bodily orifice—fumes that would have a pronounced and predictable effect on subjects within, perhaps a 30 yard perimeter. I, of course, would be immune to the effects.
I envision the orifice housing a pheromone-secreting gland capable of producing a variety of super-selective psychotropic scents, which, when needed, would be admixed with air and forcibly jettisoned into the atmosphere—not unlike an internal combustion carburetor/exhaust system.
My standard crime-fighting vapor would be one to target post-adolescent human males, the prime demographic for villainous behavior. The effect of my emission on them would be as an extremely potent, noxious chemical, rendering all who inhaled even a molecule, completely harmless (all weaponry dropped so that eyes, nose and mouths could be covered) and fleeing away from me (…for the villains, into the long arm of the law, waiting just beyond the stench event horizon).
Paradoxically, the effect of this odor on attractive post-adolescent human females (who, according to my interpretation of demographic statistics, are most likely to be taken as hostages during villainous standoffs), would be as a super-potent attractant, drawing the ladies toward me, like moths to light, like sharks to blood, like Michael Jackson toward young boys—and away from the clutches of the male villains.
Depending on the situation, I could fine-tune this super power to gain maximum tactical superiority. Some campaigns may favor attrition warfare, whereupon I’d wear down the evil-doers with shock and awe: perhaps producing an irritating, obnoxious sound from the orifice in concert with the noxious fumes. Other situations may favor surgical strikes utilizing silent stealth to deadly effect.
Of course, not all villains are men. Conceivably, there would be times when one of the attractive females being drawn toward me during a crisis situation, would indeed be a villain herself. Before I’d be aware of this “bad” lady’s evil intensions, she could have me thrown backwards, pinning my extremities to the ground. For these cases, I would need an accessory super-appendage to give me an advantage in this type of up close and personal guerrilla warfare. It should be an appendage that could be easily concealed when not needed, but would spring forth, from mental power alone, into an awe-inspiring, hard-as-steel saber, capable of penetrating these “naughty” girls into submission. It would be handy if this appendage also had the ability to squirt some type of fire-retardant liquid, in case any lit bomb fuses needed extinguishing. The job of a super crime-fighter isn’t pleasant, but if someone has to do it, it might as well be me.
They would call me, ***Captain Phero-Man and his Big Bio-Baton ***
In times of peace, I’d use my orifice to spew pleasant odors into the atmosphere that would induce calm and tranquility amongst the good folks, children and animals of Earth—cinnamon, vanilla, Hai Karate…all the really good smells.
…Or….
As superhero SympathiZor, I’d like the power to evoke extreme sympathy from people, at will. This ability could diffuse all types of evil scenarios.
Imagine, if you will, a clutch of deadly terrorists, holding hostages at gunpoint and threatening a blood bath if their unreasonable demands are not met. As soon as I walked onto the scene, the bad guys would instantaneously feel a pang of sorrow for me. I’d explain how I’ve bumbled my last few super-assignments and unless I made a successful super-crime-fighter collar, I’d be out of a job in short shrift. They’d begin to weep as I told them that without my super-job, I couldn’t afford to get my Rolex watch cleaned, nor cosmetic surgery for my image-conscious kids, nor a liver transplant for my alcoholic grandmother. Finally, they would lay down their arms, spread themselves prone on the ground and practically beg to be brought to justice as I administered the coup de gras, telling them that along with my super-powers I’m straddled with super-anxiety, super-hemorrhoids and a super-bitch for a wife.