Chapter 1: The Final Breath, The First System Ping
The screech of tires was the last thing Adam Stiels truly registered. It was a sound that ripped through the otherwise mundane hum of his life, a crescendo of metal on asphalt, followed by the sickening thud that sent a jolt through his very bones. One moment, he was muttering about the latest MCU plot hole he'd dissected for his online forum, the next, the world was a kaleidoscope of shattering glass and twisted steel. "Well, this sucks," he thought, with a characteristic, if morbid, sarcasm that even death couldn't quite extinguish. "At least I died doing what I loved… complaining about superhero movies."
Then, nothing. Not darkness, not light, but an expansive, oppressive void. It wasn't cold, wasn't hot, just… empty. A profound, unsettling nothingness that stretched further than his mind could comprehend. He tried to move, to speak, to do anything, but there was no body to command, no air to push through vocal cords. Just the lingering echo of a life abruptly cut short, and the faint, almost imperceptible hum of… something.
"Is this it? The great beyond? The cosmic recycling bin? Because honestly, I was hoping for something a little more dramatic. Maybe a giant, glowing being judging my Netflix queue."
Just as the existential dread began to truly set in, a shimmer appeared in the vast emptiness. It started as a faint ripple, then solidified into a shimmering, translucent interface, like a high-tech holographic display plucked straight from a sci-fi movie. It pulsed with a soft, internal light, and in its center, crisp, white text materialized.
[System Message] Welcome, Host. System Initialization Complete.
Adam, or rather, the disembodied consciousness that was Adam, blinked. Or tried to. "Okay, this is new. And significantly more interesting than eternal nothingness. Is this… a game? Am I still high from that questionable burrito I had for lunch?"
The text shifted, a new message appearing below the first.
[System Message] You have been allocated 1000 Luck Points. Please choose your path.
A new panel materialized beside the text, displaying two distinct options, each glowing with an ethereal luminescence.
Option 1: Random Reincarnation
Reincarnate into a random universe, with random abilities and a random starting point. High risk, potentially high reward. Luck Points will be randomly allocated.
Option 2: Guided Reincarnation
Reincarnate into a chosen universe (from a pre-approved list), with the ability to spend Luck Points on character selection, abilities, and artifacts. Lower risk, higher control.
Adam's non-existent jaw would have hit the floor. This wasn't just a game; this was the game. The kind of thing he'd devoured in webnovels and fanfiction for years. He, Adam Stiels, the guy who argued about cinematic universes on Reddit, was getting a second chance. And not just any second chance, but a system!
"Okay, Adam, don't screw this up. This is your shot. No random nonsense. We're going for precision. We're going for… the MCU. Obviously. Anything else would be a waste of a perfectly good transmigration."
He focused his intent, a strange, nascent will pushing towards the "Guided Reincarnation" option. The holographic display flickered, acknowledging his choice, and the options changed. A new list appeared, scrolling endlessly. DC, Star Wars, Harry Potter, Game of Thrones… and there it was, nestled perfectly in the middle: Marvel Cinematic Universe.
"Bingo. My bread and butter. My glorious, continuity-challenged, superhero-filled bread and butter."
He selected it, and the void seemed to hum with a new, almost expectant energy. The System, ever efficient, presented a new set of choices.
[System Message] Universe Selected: Marvel Cinematic Universe. Please select your starting point/identity.
Another list, this one less about universes and more about… origins. Orphan, street kid, forgotten mutant, child of a minor hero… and then, a truly delicious option.
Option: Son/Daughter of a Major Canon Character. Cost: Varies.
"Oh, you beautiful, beautiful System. You know me so well. Why be a sidekick when you can be… related to the guy who built the suit? Tony Stark. Gotta be Tony. Or maybe Pepper? Both? Why not both? Double the genius, double the sarcasm, double the… well, double the everything."
A new text box appeared, prompting him to specify. He thought of Tony, the chaotic genius, the man who built a suit in a cave with a box of scraps. He thought of Pepper, the steady hand, the brilliant mind behind the empire. And then, he remembered a fleeting glimpse of a future character, a small, bright spark in the chaos. Morgan.
"If I'm Tony's kid, I'm probably around for Morgan. And if I'm around for Morgan… then I'm in early. Very early. Pre-Iron Man early. This is perfect. A blank slate, but with a golden ticket to the main event."
He mentally typed his choice. Son of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. Biological. Twin to Morgan Stark.
The System processed. The hum intensified.
[System Message] Identity Confirmed: Biological Son of Anthony Edward Stark and Virginia "Pepper" Potts. Twin to Morgan H. Stark. Cost: 500 Luck Points.
[System Message] Remaining Luck Points: 500.
Adam felt a surge of triumph. Half his starting points, gone. But for a direct link to the central nervous system of the MCU? A bargain. Now, for the fun part. Abilities. Artifacts. The tools to actually survive this glorious, dangerous world.
The System, as if reading his thoughts, presented the next menu.
[System Message] Please allocate remaining Luck Points to Abilities and Artifacts.
A new array of options appeared, each with a corresponding cost. Super strength, flight, energy blasts… the usual suspects. But Adam wasn't looking for the usual. He was looking for utility. For things that would allow him to subtly influence, to protect, to survive without having to punch gods in the face on day one. He scrolled, his consciousness racing through possibilities, cross-referencing with his vast, encyclopedic knowledge of the MCU.
Then he saw them. Three options that sang to his strategic, slightly mischievous soul.
Crown of Gravity: Cost 200 Luck Points.
Description: A subtle, mental artifact that allows the user to manipulate localized gravitational fields. From minor levitation to crushing force.
Panacea Stick: Cost 100 Luck Points.
Description: A simple, wooden stick that, when touched to a person, instantly heals all injuries.
Coat of the Ascended: Cost 100 Luck Points.
Description: A seemingly ordinary coat that grants the wearer enhanced agility, speed, and temporary invisibility.
"Gravity manipulation? Instant healing? Invisibility and speed? This isn't just good; this is chef's kiss perfect. Non-flashy, incredibly versatile, and exactly what I need to be a shadow hero. No need to go full Captain America when you can just… make the bad guys trip over their own feet."
He selected them, one after another, feeling the ethereal points drain away.
[System Message] Artifact Acquired: Crown of Gravity. Cost: 200 Luck Points.[System Message] Artifact Acquired: Panacea Stick. Cost: 100 Luck Points.[System Message] Artifact Acquired: Coat of the Ascended. Cost: 100 Luck Points.[System Message] Remaining Luck Points: 100.
One hundred points left. A nice little cushion. He wondered what else the System had in store. He felt a strange sense of calm settling over him, a quiet confidence that this wasn't just a second chance, but a better chance. He was going to make this work. He was going to survive. And maybe, just maybe, he was going to mess with the timeline just enough to make it interesting.
The holographic display began to fade, the void around him swirling, coalescing into something… softer. Warmer. He felt a gentle pressure, a distant thrumming, like a heartbeat.
[System Message] Reincarnation sequence initiated. Welcome to your new life, Host. May your luck be ever in your favor.
And then, the void was gone, replaced by a profound, comforting darkness, and the rhythmic beat of a pulse that wasn't his own, but felt intimately connected to him.