Chapter One

When you get down to it, I'm sure my story is quite as banal as they come.

It isn't original.

My circumstances isn't what will make you go 'Whoa'—even though that is what it did to me.

This story of mine began just as I had seen it in various forms of entertainment channels.

I died and was reincarnated in a different world.

A marvelous world.

The Marvel Comic Continuity.

At first, I wasn't sure 'where' I had been reincarnated to. It could have been a world of swords and magic, or of giant mechas or supernatural monsters—heck, it could have even been some kind of grim dark or post-apocalyptic world.

Although, I desperately prayed it wasn't the last part.

Then again, I am quite ashamed to say that even as an adult of over 25 years, I had not been able to take such new happenings calmly… Or rather, I had spent the next four hours or so of my conception, crying and bawling my ass out so that my 'new' parents who at that time, seemed like a pair of beaming giants won't have any interest in eating me.

What? ATTACK OF TITAN ruined any positive emotions towards giant monsters for me.

It was only after I had been placed in a crib and I had the opportunity to look at my pudgy fists did I realize what had happened to me… And cued in another panic spell.

Hah... You know, I look back at my behavior and the only emotion I can muster is shame.

'Open System. Open Menu. Spiritual inner tower. Super bloodline. God-like Grandpa. Broken Gold Finger...'

In the first weeks of my life (and years to come), I had spent most of my 'agu-gu-ga-ga' time invoking every form of cheat I know in my second life. After all, if reincarnation is real then it shouldn't be surprising of me wanting to expect something fantastic from it.

But unfortunately, it was all in vain.

Shouting. Crying. Cursing. Begging... Nothing I did seemed to work.

I was even planning on taking the protag loner's route if that is what it takes... But it took me only some months to realize that no man is an island.

I may be currently a kid who's formerly been an adult, but without any of the said adults to talk to -apart from my parents- seems rather meaningless, and that leaves me with a specific set of individuals to communicate with... Children.

Brrr... That was not due to cold.

Yeah, while I admit that I enjoyed my second chance at childhood, I still find it quite TOUGH being a child all over again.

Hah…

Funning enough, what kept me persisting for any form of reincarnation cheats despite my hilarious failings was due to that particular day. That day when I finally realized the sort of place I had been transmigrated to.

Back when I was some months old, I was in the living room with my parents doing baby things -which I will never say- and keeping an eye on the TV for news -as best as toddler can- when I saw some frankly ridiculous words on the TV Screen.

[The Avengers saves the day yet again]

[Red Rocket and Captain America proves that the past does not determine the future]

[Metallic Incursion: Magneto of the Brotherhood strikes yet again]

"Ugwaaaah!" Baby words for 'what the fuck?!'

Words couldn't begin to describe the emotions I'd felt that day.

Oh, shock was present, that's for sure. But I couldn't deny the excitement welling up within me.

Of all the places to be in!

I am in Marvel. While it was the comic Marvel rather than its cinematic counterpart like I'd hoped, just the fact of me being in Marvel meant that there must be a reason while I am here...

No one really wishes for mediocrity—especially in a reality like this.

God, looking back, I still can't help but shiver feeling the cringe.

I'd really gone weeb and chuuni, back then.

Dark times that will never been mentioned EVER again.

It had taken me over 15 years of my new life to understand, and another I more year to comprehend that I wasn't really special in the grand stream of things.

I wasn't a mutant. A mutate. An alien. A god. A cosmic being. A bio-engineered being, or anything related to that sort.

I am Adam Abrams—just a guy, lucky or unlucky to be here if one takes a look at the grand scheme of things.

A guy whose name bore similarity to a character from a comic that is definitely not Marvel...

... Or at least, that is how it's supposed to go.

ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ

"Adam, seriously. That's what you want to wear for the Halloween party?"

"What's so bad about this one?" Adam said, spreading his arms out to give his mom a full view of the red colored outfit while walking down the stairs. "Even Johnny gave this his seal of approval. He called it unique."

Jessica Abrams—Adam's mom, who relaxed herself on the cushion raised a brow as she regarded her son. "Well~ he certainly isn't wrong about the unique part. But Adam, why a colored spacesuit of all things?"

"Well..." Adam dragged.

It wasn't like Adam could tell his mom that he had the idea for this outfit from a comic book that doesn't exist in this, well… Reality. While considering the state of the world today, the probability of Jessica believing him wasn't quite zero—Adam still didn't want his mom to see him as crazy.

So his reply was simple.

"You know I want to become an astronaut. This is just my way of reminding myself of that."

"Astronaut, hmm?" Mom uncomfortably hummed. "I... I have nothing to say that hasn't already been said."

Adam winced upon the look on his mom's face.

'Ah, can't believe I'd forgotten about this. She really isn't comfortable with me becoming an astronaut, is she?'

It is not like Adam could even blame her. Space today, seems considerably more dangerous than the planet Earth, with all the planet razing aliens and cosmic beings flying around.

Just earlier this year, the Shi'ar Empire had launched some sort of nuke at our solar system which would have obliterated us, if it weren't for the aid of the thunderer, Thor, who had helped in destroying the nuke.

'Besides that, and the earth-size flaming bird fiasco from 7 years ago, which definitely had something to do with the Phoenix. Mom has been quite adamant in curbing my desire to see the vast starry sea.'

Sighing, Adam scratched the back of head.

The again, mom wasn't wrong; he only has one life to live in this World…

"Mom... Can we come back to this at a later time?" Taking a deep breathe, Adam said. "I've been thinking on having a go at engineering, and I want your help in deciding which field is the right one for me."

Mom froze before a small smile blossomed on her face. Adam decided right then that such a face looked perfect on her. Jessica's thumbs fiddled with each other, an unspoken sign that she was surprised, yet happy, yet sad.

She cleared her throat.

"Well… Alright then. But what brought this on?"

"Hmm..." Adam said, projecting a confidence he didn't have. "I feel being an astronaut would only shorten my lifespan. Besides, I haven't seen all there is to see on this planet, no need to go looking for space that doesn't have an end to it."

Mom rubbed her forehead with a resigned smile.

"... ... As long as you are sure of this." Standing up, Mom walked towards Adam and kissed him on his forehead. "Now you go out to that party and bag me a girl or two, Mr."

Adam groaned. "Seriously? We were having moment, here."

Mom huffed with a small smirk. "Well, a mom's got to be worried if her son hasn't expressed any sort of interest in the opposite sex."

'Because doing so will make me a pedophile.' Adam mentally replied—though outwardly his lips twitched minutely.

"Although, that doesn't mean I give you the go ahead to have actual sex—"

"La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la..." Adam interrupted his mom by making a show of covering his ears. "Can't hear what you're saying, mom. I've gotta' go."

With a kiss to his mom's cheeks, Adam bolted straight for the door with Jessica's pearly laughter ringing in the background.

"Have a safe trip and an enjoyable party."

Adam thumbed up in affirmation.

"That's a given."

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"Ptf…"

That sound halted Adams footsteps as he headed for the car across the road. Unlike with his mom, Adam let out his scowl on full display.

"I dare you to laugh, Johnny." There was no heat behind Adam's words, but did not mean there was no irritation. "Come on, let out a huff and see if I don't fix your face a new one."

Johnny, a boy of Adam's age sporting an auburn hair coupled with a face and frame that wouldn't look out of place in a football team, beamed.

Of course, Johnny didn't laugh. Adam was very much willing to carry out his threat. But didn't stop the irritation in Adam from growing.

After all, if Adam had to choose between Johnnys's knowing smile or laughter? He would undoubtedly choose the later.

Coughing, Johnny eyed Adam and said. "So I see you've decided to wear the costume?"

"Huh? What else did you expect me to wear?" Adam rhetorically shot back. "I did ask you if this was alright and you gave me the thumbs up."

"Nope. I only called it unique."

"Isn't something being called unique a good thing?"

"Aren't you the all genius, figure it out."

"... Urg, I so wanna' punch you right now."

"Not unless you plan to head out to school in a public transit. By the time you're here, I'll already be gone."

Adam sighed rubbing the back of his head, and headed for his friend's car. Opening the door, Adam grumbled. "You're lucky that you're the one with a car right now."

"Nah, that's just your excuse for saying that you love me."

"Keep this up and you'll be expecting a kick to the groin."

"Oh, scary~"

"Just... Drive, for pete' sake."

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The first thing Adam had picked just as the car approached his high school was the sound of a party blare at full blast.

"St. George high... Never fails to impress whenever they decide to really go out." Johnny said with beam as he drove into the school premises.

St. George high, one of the many public schools in Oklahoma. It wasn't famous for anything, truly one of the many average institutions across the state. Though to Adam, if there was anything the school was quite good at would be their official and unofficial parties.

While the student activities were overseen by the school officials, it wasn't heavy laden compared most of the schools Adam had been in. Of course, that meant vices such as bullying and all forms of illicit practices abounded—that is if it weren't for the Head of Public Morals Committee.

Namely, Adam Abrams...

To fucking tut his horn, having over 3 black belts in 4 martial disciplines has truly helped Adam through his adolescence. By the end of the day, the student body of St. George high learned not to mess with him as those that did found themselves in hospitals—and they were the fortunate ones.

Who says violence cannot propagate peace?

There is a reason why despite not being part of the school's football team, those jocks respected him more than their brawny back liner, Johnny.

"I only hope they can keep everything in moderation." Adam commented as he stepped out of the vehicle.

"Come on, don't be such a spoilsport, champ." Johnny said, draping an arm over Adam. "Soon after this will be the final papers for me and unto final year for you. Now isn't the time for you to be going on all busboy on me."

Adam sighed—and elbowed Johnny in the torso hard.

"Oomph... Seriously, what the fuck—oh, I called you busboy just now, didn't I?"

Nodding at Johnny's bowled form, Adam said. "Be glad that I'm in a good mood and you're strangely making sense for once."

Still wheezing, Johnny rubbed his stomach with an uncomfortable look.

"I've been hit many times in torso out there in the fields, but I don't think there's anyone who's hit me as hard as you do."

Adam smirked at the former school head bully and one of the luckier ones.

"Well, I suppose that's good for me, then."

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The Halloween party was as Adam had suspected it to be. Rowdy as hell. Teens dressed in their vampires, mummies, werewolves, Frankensteins and many others, littering the hall room while busting out moves that could be classified as both slick and awkward.

Johnny, who by the way, dressed a Bigfoot was also on the dancefloor with his fairy clad girlfriend, Melisa. Yeah, from the way they were both eating up their lips, Adam was quite sure they would be having sex by the end of the day...

Then again, Adam wasn't their guardian so it's not like he has any say about it.

"Hmm..." A girl bumped Adam, giving him a drinks from the two she had in her hand. "Here..."

"Oh, thanks Soph."

Adam took a drink—and his face changed as he eyed the drink that had a familiar sourly heat in it. Adam turned to Sophia Grainheart with an incredible look.

"Di-Did you add whiskey to this?"

With a smirk like the sexy witch she had portrayed herself to be, Sophia placed a hand on Adam's shoulders. "Well, seems like our golden boy sure knows his drinks."

Shrugging her arm off, Adam replied. "Cut it out. It's not like I haven't had a drink in my entire life... I just don't like how it taste and how it makes my head spin... there's also the sobering headache."

It wasn't like Adam hated drinking... Ok, he hated drinking, but it certainly didn't come out from nowhere. Even from his past life, Adam had always hated that sharp hot aftertaste from alcoholic beverages—even the sweeter ones weren't really sweet for him at all.

Not to mention how weak Adam is to that stuff.

Although, Adam did have a soft spot for wine. But wine is just the exception.

"Snrk... Sorry, sorry." Sophia mirthfully said, as she made to exchange the drink Adam held with her. "Here have mine..."

But Adam shook his head. "... No, it's alright. It's not like I'm a light drinker or anything. I can handle at least this much."

Only problem being that Adam lied about his light drinker status.

"Men and their pride." Sophia sighed. "Suit yourself then."

With the party still raging on, Adam took the opportunity to regard Sophia while slowly sipping his drink.

Dynamite Sophia—she's definitely living up to her nickname.

Her well-proportioned tall frame with her auburn hair now dyed blonde, coupled with her green latex outfit that comprised of a cropped sleeveless and criminally short pants that had a material of the same color attached to the pant as some sort of griddle.

Normally, one wouldn't have associated such a sensual outfit to a witches' costume—that is if it weren't for the Norse sorceress infamously known amongst Thor's expansive list of archenemies.

The Enchantress.

Adam huffed, "Cool outfit you rocking there, Soph."

"Right." Sophia twirled, (un) intentionally showing her sensual appeal. "Becky and the others wouldn't stop hounding me to join in with their Egyptian Queen parade. But as you can see, I've got my own thing going."

"Yeah, I can see that."

It seems Adam's stare must have been quite noticeable, because Sophia's eyes and smirk widened as she slinked towards the astronaut clad Morals Committee member and placed a hand on his chest.

"You know, when I was going for a witches' theme, I hadn't really been for magic and hexes or trick or treat... I'd been going for—"

"Control." Adam interrupted her, holding her hand. "The prototype for your costume is from the Enchantress Amora, who's one of the known villains to not be part of the punching and beam blasting group... Well, not the beam blasting part but her usual operandi is to have controlled minions fight for her."

"Nerd."

"That's just common information."

"Well then, since you already get the point of my costume that means you already know what comes next."

With a small huff, Adam genuflected, kissing Sophia's hand.

"Will you grant me the honor of taking you to the dancefloor, my mistress?"

"Of course, my darling servant." Sophia replied in a faux haughty tone. "Nothing pleases a woman than a man treating her like the queen she is."

With that, both proceeded to the dancefloor and bopped to the raucous music. Of course, there were no small amount of lips exchange, but at this point Adam couldn't really bring himself to care about it anymore.

Maybe his reincarnation was merely just remembering memories from his past life and the 'him' from before was really gone. Either way, it is not like the memories he has about this world can help much. It is more of a detriment than a blessing.

Like what the fuck was Adam to do about the fucking Incursion Event or the Infinity event or the Civil War, anyways? Either of them could blow him out like a candle before he can say, 'fuck this shit'.

Life is short. Adam has only one life. One small fragile life amongst the millions of 9As to 1As superhumans, and he intends to live it freely.

A soft bite on his ear drew Adam out from his musing as he look at Sophia who was pouting at him.

"Eyes on me..."

Laughing, Adam pulled her closer. "As my queen commands."

"You're lucky that I'm in a merciful mood."

"That I am, my lady."

Sophia chuckled resting her head against his chest, while Adam smiled swaying to the music that took on a cool tempo.

Now isn't the time to be pondering on heavy stuff. Life is short, and Adam Abrams intends to live it to the fullest.

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Shaking his head, Adam let out a groan as he struggled to lock the Library room's door. He would be having words with the Library Prefects for this, but that would have to wait as it seems like the drink Adam had back at the party was getting to him.

Grimacing as he failed to stifle a belch, Adam turned around and mentally took count of the remaining rooms left.

"Hmm... I've already checked the terrace, the cafeteria, the sport storage room, the art storage room... All that's left is the computer room."

With the lethargy suffusing his very bones, Adam dearly wanted to just call it a night and head back home. It is 3:24AM and with the drink -which still shocks him that even a drink mixed with juice could do him this much- compounding his tiredness, Adam didn't have the energy to do much.

"Urgh..." Slapping his cheeks, Adam prepped himself. "Hah, won't take a minute or two. Let's just get this over with."

On the way to office on the school's second floor, Adam distracted himself with the pleasant happenings this night. Namely, the enjoyable time with Sophia.

"Ah, if it weren't for this damn tipsiness the things I would've been doing..." Adam grumbled—before it changed into a dopey smile. "This and that, and a little bit of this..."

Yeah, Adam can definitely see himself going far with Sophia if they both decide to progress their relationship. Sophia is definitely his type, and Adam wasn't merely referring to her dynamite body.

"Next week—no, tomorrow. I'll ask her out tomorrow..."

But upon reaching the computer room, whatever perverted fantasy Adam had died as a scowl took its place. The room's door was locked alright, but judging from the faint light coming from inside the room there is no denying the fact that one of the PCs has not been switched off.

Adam peevishly fished out a key from his keychain and opened the door.

"I swear to god, I'll take this to the council if this happens again. This ain't under my goddam jurisdiction."

The only reason Adam had to do this is because he was part of the party planning committee. While Adam hadn't really been able to contribute much in the planning per say, he had been tasked in making sure the school was 'ok and normal' before he leaves.

After all, it is a pain in the neck if Mr. Henderson (McDonalds) calls the committee to his office first thing Monday morning to nag them dry because it had been reported to him that something went missing.

Entering, Adam trudged to the PC with a grumble that quickly turned into fear.

"What. The. Hell...?"

Frozen on his feet, Adam mechanically turned left and right, front and back, up and down. But he didn't see anything or anyone. Even so, Adam still couldn't keep his calm.

In a world where beings like Mephisto, Dormammu, Satanus, or any of the supernatural freaks exist -and Adam wasn't only referring to only the big names- looking around doesn't guarantee ones safety.

They could be fucking omnipresent for all Adam knows.

"Is this some Halloween joke? Because if so, I don't think I'm getting it."

Logically, Adam should have run as soon as he saw those words on the PC screen. Who or whatever did this knew who he was—it even knew his status as a reincarnate and his former life's name to boot.

Whatever was going on is totally beyond his paygrade.

But...

But even so...

'Hadn't I been waiting for this all my life?'

As Adam thought this, his body robotically walked and sat before the glowing PC screen that had those damn words.

[Chose Your Own Archetype]

[Reincarnate: Benjamin Kersley/Adam Abrams]

[Type: -] (Options)

Adam really should have run, but he didn't. The possibility of this being real rather than some conjuration from his current state was too enticing to ignore -not to mention his tipsiness had actually been cleared from his system.

Picking up the mouse, Adam clicked on the options as a list appeared.

"Alright, let's see... Mutant. Mutate. Comic being. Supernatural being. Alien. God. Mechanical being. Cursed being. Incarnate..."

Adam folded his arms in ponder.

From the get go, many of the options were out.

Adam didn't want to be some kind of robot or android. A cursed being feels like nothing but trouble. Supernatural being means dealing with all the Ghost Rider shit which could ultimately lead to him taking a trip to Hell or some Splinter Realm—which is a no, no.

Being a God wouldn't really fit his heritage (parents and all) and depending on the Pantheon means too much trouble -Ra's alternate form and Gorr, the Gods Butcher. An Alien—eh, not much aliens can bring the kind of perk Adam needs and he really didn't want to play the 'I am not Human' troupe.

For Adam that leaves three choices; cosmic being, mutant, and mutate.

He choose 'Mutant—though that could change depending on what Adam sees in the further options.

[Class: -] (Options)

Eye twitching, Adam regarded the four options and picked the highest available.

'Who would I choose mediocrity if I have the ability to choose? Especially with what's gonna' be happening in the coming years.'

[Class: 6 (Beyond Omega)]

[Ability Description] {-}

"What? No options." Adam muttered in bemusement. "Am I supposed to write what I want or something?"

Adam's fingers rests on the keyboard keys, contemplating on what he should write. Different kinds of powers exist in Marvel in their thousands—be it through spells, genetic heritages, or through some esoteric means.

It doesn't matter what Adam could think of that Earth 616 didn't have a variation of it.

The core truth is that Adam wants a power that would help him survive—that would help him thrive. If Adam could help it, he wanted a power that could protect him from dying in general.

But then again, no one is truly above it.

It doesn't matter the kind of power one has in Marvel. There is always something or someone greater, or some kind of foil or condition that a power could have, no matter how cool it may seem on the ostensible level—unless...

Y̸̡̢̨̧͉͔̠͈̹̙̱̺̪͚͑͒̓́̒͒̾̓̓͛̃͆̏͌̀̀̀̆̽͂̊͗̓̈̓̈́̀͒̃̚̚̕͝͝͝o̶̡̨̟̰͇̦̜̹̟̬͈̗̞̻̤̯͔͚̩̪̣͕̙̭̩̗̼̼͍͙̘͎͉̩͙͚̽̉̋͊̊̈́̒̿̈́͗̀̂͐̔̀́̆͒̊͂͋̎̅̀̊̌͌͂̇̍̌̿̑̆͊̂̾̌̕͜͜ͅư̸̧̛̟̥͍͓͓͓͈͍͔͎̼̹͇̝̬̦̭̐̔̔͋̀̈̀̊͌̒͐͆̈́͒̀̃̆̾̓͌̕͝͝ ̴̡̛̯̻͙̮̝̟̑̑̂͗́͆̿͆̋̽̽͆̈́̅̓͊͑̆̇̽̋̐̐́̍͛͗̈́͂̽̌͗͋͘͘͘͠ͅâ̷̡̧͕̻͔̦͈̤̿͑̊̏̕ŗ̶̢̛̦̦̺̤͈̺͖̖͔̱̹̝̺͉͓͔̪̹̖̫͉̗̹̤͙̩̗̖̪͈̓̽̈́̾̅̇̀̀̍̿̓̎̊͌̉͛͛̈̏̎̀̽̂̕͜͜ͅͅȩ̸̡̢̛͇̥͉͎̟͇̜̖̞̙͖̮̳͔̬̻̠͎̻̘̠͍̰͈̗̊̃̍͐͐̉̇̒̿̌̚͜͜͜ͅ ̴̢̨̨̖̻̥̪̟̲̫̥̝̥̫̖̘̦̰͎͔̠̦̥̳͚̳̣̰̭̙̄͑͗͒̽̊̀͗̊͂͛̍̕ȃ̶̡̡̧͍̝̖̺̘̲̬̥͔̗̬̥̤̟̫̥̥̜̲̙̦̺̖̲̣͚̮͎̹͓̜͇̊͒̏̿̏̎͌̒̓̈́̈̎̀͐́̀̈̅̊͒̕̚̕͠͠͝ͅͅͅb̵̧̡̧̢̥̬̺̭̲̲̱̟̤̞̳͔͙̺̖͖̝̗̰̣̭̻͓̤͈̘͖͂͂͆̔̋̀̆̌̓͑̓̂̄͌̍̑̓̎̿́̇̓̔̚ͅö̶̗͍̰̜͓͎̟͙̣͚̣͉̘͚̺̪̰͍͈̖̹̘͓͖̖͙͍̹͓͙́̔̀̏̐̇̃̽̃͘̚͜͝v̶͍̣͇͍̥̹͛̉e̵̟͎̬̜̮̜̝̹̠̳̩̙̪̫͌̌̎̈̋̿̾͗̊̓̄̚͝͝ ̴͕̱̻̰̯̦̫̖̖̬̱͈̻̭͖̺̼͍̣͎̝͇̱̦͕̎̑̉̏̍̾̎͒͆͗̓̉͗̈́̀́̄͐̉̉͂́́͊̋̂̍̓̓͘̚̕̕͘͝͠͝͝ͅḙ̸̛́̏͒̿͒͋͐̌̒͂̓̈́́̈́͋̀͑̍̈́̓͌̄̾̎̃͊̕͘v̵̢̨̢͖̹͓̣͔̟̣̝͕̜͎̥̳̜̜͚̣̰̳̲̟̲̠̬̞͖̹̽̌͑͒̉͊͂͆̈́̾̈͗͐́ͅê̸̢̨̧͍̫̣̣̬͚̼̤̖̘͉͍̲͚͖͚̜͎͎̱̝̆̐̆́̍̈́̚͜r̸̙̬̆̏͂͐̒́̈́̔̀͊̏͂̇̈́̿̈́̃̕͠͝y̸͎͇͓͈̱̣̞̳̮̳͛̇̆͊̉͒̀̒̀́̇͛̂͂͌̎̉̐̃̀̉͋̽̑́̄̐͜͜͝t̵̡̳̪̻̦̗̤̺͓̮͚̅͑̎̃̌̅͊͊̈̇̀͐̀̈́̊̾̈́̐̊͗̏̍̕͘̚̚͜h̴̡̞̖̪͉̩͉̝̭͚̝͚̥̞̖̭̔̓̊̅̌̀̑̾̓̓͗̈́͗̃̎̈̋̈͗̀̐͒̅̋̄̂̑́̏̈͂̚͝i̵̞̰͕̠̠̤͚̟̩̤͓̯̗̻͍͕͕̜̳͋̿́̈́̅̈͐̈́̓͆͊ͅṇ̸̨̲̐͂̌̍͒̈́̌̂́̓̍̈́̏̽̌̂̒͒̑̂̕ğ̸̛͇̺͇̺̝̻̼̼̺̦̲͖̹̳̺̠̣̱͇̎̋͛͗̈́͐͛́̄͛̈́̌̊͌͂̚͜ͅ.̷̛̹̰̗͓̼͙͒͊̔̂̒͋́̆̽̃̌͊͛̏͋̐̇̄͆͂̅̒͑͌̓̊͒͌͐͐̂̚͘͠͝

Eyes widening, Adam looked at the keyboard keys with a new sense of caution… And hunger. Adam has an idea on the kind of power set he wants... The only problem being that it is too 'powerful' to even consider.

Turning back, Adam peered into the darkness, strangely assured by the silence.

"Ok. Alright, what's the worst that could happen?"

{Pre-Retcon-}

'Wait, am I really going to write this?'

Adam Abrams only has one life, but if this works—then everything's going to change.

"Ah, fuck it."

{Pre-Retcon Beyonder}

Exhaling, Adam quickly clicked on the enter option before any feelings of hesitation could settle in—only for the monitor to abruptly switch off.

"Wha..." Adam dumbly gaped. "Well, that's lackluster endin—"

Skrrk! Skrrk! Skrrk!

Ȓ̴͚͖̲̻͕͚̗͎̦̎ȩ̸̨̼̙̫̥̲̖̦͚̟̘̺͔͇̲̮̜̫̮̫̄ͅi̷̧͕͚̼̋̚̕͜͝͝ņ̵̡̡̗̗͓̗͍̜͈̦͈̖̣̦̤̍̂̒̉̿́̃̐͂̄̅̎̈́̀̓c̷̛̘̥̟̯͕͕̰̺͎̭̻̙̺͖͔͖͍̮̖̯͖̥̖̉̎͂̅̈́̓̓̽̈́̈̂͑̈́͆͝͝ä̸̠͔́̓̀̿̈́̑̓́̈́̕͝͝͝r̵̡̨̼͙͎͓͉͎̗͎̟̣̲̻̲͕̔͛̔͑͛͛̎̇̋͘̕̕͜n̷̺͉̩̟̹͈̩̭̥̲̱̝̭̄̾̒̓̃͆̇̔͂̾̈́̂͌̚a̵̢̢̢̡̫̞͉̯̤̐͐̍́͐́͆͝t̸̛̮͓̺̺̣͕̙̰̮͛̂̃̓̈́͗̈́̀̃̽͘̚͝͝ͅe̷͓͎͇̼̝̘̪̅̂̌̄̈́̎͗͘̕͝ͅ ̸̢͇̺͍͈̞̦̠̮͙̖͔͈̺̈́̇͐̿̐͜ͅǍ̴̢̡̡̨̧̢̭̠̺͔̹͍̫̥̮̹̟̹͈͔͜͝r̷̛̼͂͑̎͝c̴̛͎͔̞̩̰̤̬̝̲̳͖͚̠̦̱̓̽͌̔̈̊͆͗͠͝h̸̡̡̻̺̬͉̤̼̦̞̯͈̣̠̒̐̋͐͘͜e̶̛͖̱̥͎̫̝̖̹̝̫͉͓̤̟̻̱̼̓̄̏̽͒̂́͘͝͝ţ̶̢̧̛̗̯̰͇͙̺͓͈͍̯̣͉̩̘̻̙͙̲͉͍̉̎́͆̎̏͐̃͊̋̏̐ý̶̫͇͈̲͖͈͔̍̊͒̋̈̀̒̅̍́̂̔̅̌p̵̢͖̮̬̱̝̰̻̳̫̱͓̮̟̯͈̗̮͓̤̱̩̎̈́́̒̄̑̋̎͘͘͝e̸̢̢̢͔̼͕͍̥̩̭̬̯̘̦̻̪͖͖̮̦͑͊́̈̂̉͑̉̐̔̀̏͘̕ͅ:̷͉̩̏̇ ̸̥̓͌̐S̶̞̩͔̭̣͉̮̺̟͇̝̻̗͙̮̥͇͙̊̃̈́̓̒ͅE̶̛͔͎͊̄T̵̛̛͕̺̗̉̈̌͌́̎͊̈́̌̂́̀̃͑̈̈̊̿̊̚̕͜

Skrrk!

R̶̦̻̝̟̤͐͊̉̅̽̓́̇̈͛̊͊̇̀ę̵̛̻̞̯̤̩͗̈́̓̈̈́̒̃̀̋͌͒̃c̷̨͔̯̲͈̖̹͍͉̺̈́͆͗̋̀̾̎̐̉͗͌̈̓̑͊̄͘i̷͈̳̦̺̘̼͉̘̼̠͌͊̎̄̆̆̐̎̍́̕͘͘ͅp̵̛̛̖̥͛͐͑͌̅̈̑̊͐͆̒̎̕į̸̧͎̳̪̺̺͍͎̯̖̻̙͕̾̅͝ȇ̴̡̧̦̫̺̫̝̤͇̦͙͕̻̈́͋̓̇́͘̕͜͝ͅn̶͈͙͇͉̩̞̪̳̗̠̱̺͈̯̝͓͒̋͊͂̓͐́͘͠t̶̨̢͓̥̤̤̞͂͗̔̋̓̀͌͝ͅ:̵̛͉̭̙̯͚̻̥͖̯̮͈͂̏͊́̐́̈́̀́̅̕͝͝ ̵̧̡̢͈̳͔̙̳͈̗͙͓̭̠̞̺̂̈͑B̴̧͚̤͆̀͘̕É̸̞̘͔̥͓̥̺̺͙̩̭͊̂̂̍̆̾̀̓͌̾̆͆͜͝N̵̢͚̱͍̣̞̙͖̖̻͓͒͌́́̀ͅJ̵̧͚͉̹̮̬̺̼̘̜͖͚͍͈̽͛̍̊̇̓̓͜A̶̡͓͔͓̹̖̞̲̝̰̩̤̤̓̎̾̐̾M̴̺̽̈͛̏͗̀͗̕͝Í̵̧̨̗͔̱̪̹̱̫̘̰̭̝͍͆́͆͛̾̏̅̕̕͝N̶̨͇̗̦̮̦̩̮̭̬̾͑̌͑͑͝ͅ ̵̮͔̻͇͈̑͋̓̒͗͊́̈̇̾̀̂̈́̈́̚ͅK̶̳̙̗̆́̓̿̒̈̏̀̀̀͗̉̾̈́͘̚͝E̷̡̢͎͊̑̄̚͝͝Ȑ̸̡̨̨̫͔̙̦͕̦̘̻̦̠̬͍̊̈́̿̌̂͗̈ͅS̸̰̩̱͊͋̉͂͂̓͒̇̋̒̓͗͝L̷̫̉̍̀͛͗̓̋́̀̏̋̒̂̾͋͐͘Ë̴̡̦̲̖̻͖̝̲̠͔̱̻̖͍̮̞́́̍̐̔̈̍͒́͝Y̶̧̪̬̰̬̗̪͓̦̱̤̪̼͖̞̬̬̋̈́͊̍̌͝/̸̢̧͖̤͕̯͖̼̠͉͇̩̱͖͈̦̥̿̏̓̀Â̵̧̗̪̙͈͙̘͌͘D̷̛̛̬̩͇͓̟͈̘̼̗̣͓̠̒̽̂͂̀͋̃̄̈́͋͗̌̕͠͝A̶̡͙̫̫͕̫̞̞̽͒̏̀̉͑̈́̃̇́̋̉͜͝͝͝M̷̡̱̗̘͍͚̹̼̩̣̤̿͐̑̚ ̶̨̛̛̠̹̟̘̲̙̻̫̤͙͚̊̃̿́̃͆͐̾͗̄̇͌̚͝Ä̸̧̡͓̖̰̟͔͉́̏͗͊̈̌͑̀̌͌̿̈́̍̈́̎̽͝B̴̹̪̹̦̯̲̀͊̀̎̋̋̕R̵̢̟̦̬̹̗̯̫̟̭̆̐̅̉̀̈́́͒͒̆̾̈́͆̕͜ͅͅA̷̧̯̬͇̋̚M̶̡̧̡̨͖͕͍̘̥̩̮̥̗̆̅̍̽̓̿̐̌͑̕̚̕͝S̸̨͚͍̱̥̬̟̰͍̼̠̼̗̰̪̤͚̊͗̈́̓͘̕̚

Skrrk!

T̶͎̪̼̓̒̑̽̾̔̾͗̎̊y̷̛̥͙̽̀̀͛̀͂̀͛̊̌͆͛̍͝͠p̶̨̧̤̺̖̦͙̥̭͈̓̈́͜e̴̛͇̹͓̺̞͙̔̀͐̅̽̋͂͂͛̂͑̿̚͠:̶̧̧̛͓͋́̒̈́͐͆̽̕ ̸̳͔̳̻̬̉́͑̓M̷̡̨̨̬̜̭̫͖̠͕̻̹͍̺̿̄̏͒̃̆̅͂̏́̾̇͊͘͜͜ͅU̴̧̡͔̖̦̜͉͈̲͉̬̔̈́̾̑̓͑̽ͅT̵͔͎̳̙͍̦̣͌̒̋́̾̽́̆̑̋̋͗̈́A̵̦̿̍̈̅́͛͛̓͋͋̀͘͠N̵̪̜͖̥̝͙̖̈́̎́́̍́͜͠T̸̢̛̯̬̗͈̦̤̣̰̤͓̞̹̟͋ ̸͉́̃̑̑͒́̉̂͑̚͘͝͝ͅ(̴̨̢̮̮̻̹̮͉͔̮̞̲͑̈́͜B̷͇̮̜͓̩̰̖̐̾̐̆̃̓̎̍͑͋̀È̷̠̜̯͖̤̰͎̹ͅY̶̧͓̞̳̜̾͛͌͂̇̉̓̊̈͑̇̚̚̕̕ͅO̴͈͚̲͉̤̩̜͒̽͠N̴̡̜͔̤͙̭͇̹̠͚̓͂͠Ḑ̸͙̤̠̤̼̱͙͚͖̯̩̱̒̒̽͊̽̾͆͊̓̈́̓̄̕ͅ ̵̟̩̱͇̻͚̥̜̞͚̹̲͈̩̾̂͛́͂̑̿́́̽̇̔̾ͅṌ̵͖͓̮͛͛̎͑̍̆̕͝M̵̨̘͕͉͍̤͔̼̍̓͐́͐̋̑͑ͅE̸͎̙͎̝̯̜̪̦̤̣̠͔̗͖͛͆̿̑̿̔͆̍͜͜͝ͅǴ̷͓̙̹̜̟̲̺͍͒̎̎̆͐͆̊͛̈́̍̎̕͝͠Ạ̶̢̧̛͕͖̙̗̭͍͚̦̝̭͎̑̐́͆̀̔̓̓̅̄̓̍͜͠)̵͔̱̜̝̳͙̘͔̥͇̮̓͋́̈́̏̽̾̾͒̈́̆̊̂͘

Skrrk! Skrrk! Skrrk! Skrrk!

P̴̡̛͉̎͗̍̉̀o̶̡̨̘̤̪̞̳̦̻͛͒̂̐͝ẁ̸̭͔͖͎̩̞̰̫͒ę̵̧̣̼̥͔̟̥̙̜̬̲̽͜͠r̵̨̨͇̞͚̩͖̖̮̥͉͗̽͝ ̴̰͖͕̙̖͋̅͐͊͛̔͝Ḑ̷̛̫̊̀͛͑̈́̑e̶̪͔͇̭̲͈͆͆͂̈́͐̈͝s̸̱̤̪̥̳͌͂̅̽̈͆̓͝c̶͙̪̘͓̮̏͊͐͛̾͛̓́̚͠r̸̢̼͉̭̥͍̞͙͇͍̝̃͒̀́͌͊̐̚͘͝͝i̴̥̯͈̗̰̻͎̤̅̀p̵̨̧͉̟̠̑̊͆̐ẗ̷͖͈̭̥̩́̌̈̌̏̈͑͝i̷͓͊̇̈͗̋̄̒͝o̴̡͎̬̟͆̓͜ṉ̴̢̛̞̣͓̫̲͍͑̍͌͛͜ͅ:̸̺̻͙́ ̴͍̮̱̟̳͙͖̔̍̍H̸̜̟͎͚̟̯͓̯̉͌̑͌̿͊͗Ĩ̶̪̫͖͎̫͈̱̝̦̱̰̼͖G̶̛͓͚͎̥͎͎͗̊̇̀̉͗̑͗͛͠ͅḨ̵̦͕̦̐̅̏̒̎̋̊͝-̶̯̔̀̍͐̎̽̈́̀̐̀̋͝T̸̻̱̠́̎͐̾̋̌̄̃͌̅̆̔I̴̛̦͔̹̥̼͖̦̝͙̼̻̳ͅE̸̺͚̳̍̆͒̽̌͘R̴̨̮̰̗̼̿̍̍ ̸̡̱͉̬̩̙̲̲̘̝͇̮̬͋͂̄̾̾D̶͓̗͈̰̼͛͂̈́̾̉͆́͆͝I̷̛͈͕̘͙̺̽̓͐͗̾̂̽̐M̵͉̥̳̹̰̖̘̫͉̟͕̄̈́͐Ę̴̘̟͖̥͔̙͉͖͖̼̞̑͜N̵̨̛̫̗͈̪̮̤̮͈̦̈̽̊͗͊͛̌̚͝S̷͓̞̎̑͊̇̈̇̑̈́̐͘͘I̵̧̲̣̱̘̠͆̑̐Ơ̸̢͓̲̺̜̙̳͎̟͖͍̣͎̾͛̄͋͑̾͑̋̉̑̐̅Ǹ̵̗̲̝͍͓̣͕̲̺̆̏͛̇͜A̷̪̼͐͜͠L̷͇̲̬͛̀̀̈̋̕ ̵̢̨̙̫͈̟̘̫̫͌̉̽̈́̿̈͘͝͠ͅȨ̵͔̤̞̼͌Ẍ̷̱̖̭͙͔̭̥͈͇̭̝̤̙̐̈́̃̚͝Į̷̢͚̲̫̩̫̼̼͚͚̯̒̚Ş̷̼̫̥̖͘̚͜T̷̢̛̘̼͎͙͕͕͚̟̯̻̾̐̉̓͂̆͒̌͂̌̓͝ͅȨ̸̘̫̦͓͓̹̙͉̜̺̩͌̔̌̔̅N̷̰͕̺͎̽͌͘͝C̴̣̱̣̪̻̭͈̪̙͈͉̪͘Ê̴̢̻̣̰͔̣̪̲͌͝.̷̢̪̱̱̺̽̓̐͛̂̄̐ ̴̨̡̜̖̮̘͉̝̇͛̾̐ͅȞ̷̪͉̺̺͚́̈͋͊Ī̷̥̞̙̫̻̻̩̘̝͎̀̈G̶̘͉͖̉ͅH̶̨̨̡̧͙͖̭͖̲̖͔̭̓̀̐̂̄̀ͅ-̸̭̹̤͓̹̮͓͔̞̪͔̦̺̂̿̆̊̓͋̕͘͘T̷͙̱̱̜̪̤̹̻̦̼͍̈́İ̴̩̯̻̻̯͚̣͕͔͔͎̲̓ͅȨ̴̻̠̫̤̹̈́̈́̇Ṟ̸͙͉͍̪̤̬̻̤̾̉͂̑̈́͑̿͆̓̾̔͠ ̴̢̟̤̪̽͂̽͜R̵̡̡͚̗͙̯̭͔͓͔̥̠͇̄̋̑́̒̔͗̉̃̋̄̕Ė̷͔̰͉͇̯̹̬̼͍̘͚̎̈́͜ͅA̵̤̹͎̖̚͠L̵̨͎͚̩̭̘͔̩̫̣͐̏̾̋̚I̵̲̙̻͍͉͉͇͂̈͌̂̓̆̕̕ͅT̷̢̨̐̑̽͑̔̀̑̉̚͘͜͠͠Ỷ̶̠͗̓́͑͊̍̓̐͠ ̵̢̦͖͖͈̈́͐̅̈́̿͌̄̿͂̉̆͠ͅḾ̶̪̥͍͎͓̻̟̠̔̀͊̐͌̈́͌̀̀̚͠Ǎ̴̢̲͈̣N̴̼̪̜͙̳̫̍͆̇I̴̛̖̮͍̼̝͋͐͒̓͛͊͘͝P̸̲̪̰̪̜̜̼̃̄̊̽̆́̽͛͒̑̔̚͜ͅǗ̶̢̨͚̟͎̟̹̠̤͈̱̰̹́̉̈̓͒͗̅̅̍̑Ĺ̶̡̘̟̲͉̹̳̪̥̬̭̳Ä̴̢̛͈̖͈̘͖̬͛̔̄́͌̊͝͝ͅT̶̢̪̤̝̩͍͓̜̯̣̣͕̃͝Ḯ̵̞͎̪̮̩̦̤̹̩̞͋͒̍̈́̀͛̕̕͜Ò̷̺̣̱͐̿͛̉̂̈̅́͆̕͘N̸̻̳̳̲̗̭̟͇̹̼͉̤͖̈́̊͗̏͛̔͐̾̔̉̚͘͝.̷͖̅̍̆̈̾́̓ ̴͉̥̘̬͕͕̗̤̟͍̤̊͒̄̋͜ͅN̴̥̜̙̗̬͉̲̰͙̫̘̐̽̈́͐̌͗̀̚͜I̴͉̠̻̠̗͚̼̝̬̲̝͈͆̽̑G̴̡̨̱̮̯̟̠̠͂Ḧ̵͙̪͓͎̦̹̰͓͓͉̰̤̔̉͗̂͝͝-̸͍͇̗̲̝̈́̌O̶̰͍̱̙̙̟̟͕̓̚M̵̮̟̝̜̜̲̓N̷̮͐̿̈Ǐ̷̢̟̭̯̦͙̗͉̗̻͂̏̔͊̽̔͌͐̃͋͝S̷̨̥̭̻̻͓̫̟̾̃̆͒̍̓̇C̶̢̢̘̱̰̮̥͓͉̮̩̋̋͋̋͂͆̕͠͠I̵̎̑̀̽̎̆̌͘͜E̵̛̺̯̪͉̲͔͕͐͋͒̉͝N̸̻̠͂̅̅́͗̎̔̾̾̿̚̚͝Ĉ̴̡̮͉̝̦̎͗̆̍͘Ĕ̴̳͉̭́͛̔͌̓́͋̉͘̕͝͠ͅ.̷̟̎͂̔ ̸̻͉̰̥̈́̋͛͐̓̓͝Ǒ̷̡̦̣͍̜̖̜͔͙̝̥͙͖͊̕Ḿ̶͓̭̙̻̰̫͛̓̊̿̽̓͂̏N̴̨͓͍̫̳̘̫̟͎͖͇̲̼͑I̶̛̩̘͂̈́͌̀͗̊́͆̑͝P̷̧͕͍̤̩̃͘R̸̢̻͉̬̻͍͍̲͎̓͌̀͐͛̂͜Ȩ̶̜͍͉͈̄̒̈́Ś̷̡̡̝̙̖͕̘͋̒͋̕ͅE̵̡̻̩͕̜͕͙̘͗̓̓̂̋̊́̉͛͑̊̕͜͝N̷̢̘̊̈́͐̏̉̃̿͐̀̍̿͘C̴̪̞̱̿̔̍̽Ȩ̸̢͕̬̜̰̞͙͓̘̺̾͗͊̈́̍̈́͑̀̚̚͝.̶͙̼̠̯̙͈̔ ̵̛͉͓̏̒͗̈́̃́̚ ̷̞̮̲̅͆A̸̡̭̮̻͔͔̥͔̝̼̰̓̏̉̒̚͠B̴̧̿́͐͊͊̀̄͋̐̎̀̆͝S̷͖̺̗͚̮͖͉̥̱̼̝̜̓͑̈́̎̌̃̀͜͝T̷̡̜̱͍̺́̎̆R̶̡̨̛̞͚͈̳̥͎̗͖̿̀́̒͛̄̆͋͒ͅÁ̷̡̧̞͓̠̃̉̂̈́̇͛͆C̸̥̤̬̥͖̻̭̘̬̊Ť̵̻̙͓̞̜̿͋ ̵̢̢͔͎͎̼̖̳̗͒̊̋̆̾͋͑ͅÁ̸̹͕̠̟͈̗̭̤̗͉̻͛S̴̩̩̻̙̥̮̻̫̎̆̓̅̈̒̔͆͆̉͜ͅC̸̢̥̜̒̇̊̈͒̈́̚͝Ę̴̛̠̹̼̫̩̲̟̪̫̀̐̃͂͆͐̚ͅN̵̡̜̹̼̼͎͍͉͚̖̳̍́̎͗͗̈́̕͘͠D̵̗̜́̏́A̵̺̥̲͕͓̭͓̦̣̫̙̳̾ͅN̵͙̟̣̯͖̪̫̭̮̈́̾͑̓́̋̍̍̂̍ͅC̶͎̲̠͚͛͜͝Y̷̨̝̱̖̰̰̘̹̏͋̓̀̕̕͝.̵̰̼̗̟̟̯̠̘̥̘̊̄́̽̉̆̇̋̄̒̀̽͜͝ ̷̢̡̰̮͍̠̙̜̣̤͔͆̓͗͋̓͗͌̕̚̕C̷̡̩͉̝̘̯̳͚̠̰̗̊̓̉̄̑̚͜Ã̷̞̰̐̓Š̶̢̧̛͍̩͙̠̾̿͂̋̉͗̓͘Ũ̴̩̮̗̞̣̃̇̐̈́͋̓͋A̴̢̪̗̱̼͎̼̻̜̟̼̯̎͋̇̀̈́͘L̶̡̧̡͎͎̪͔͍͎͙̱̎̌̀͗̈́̉I̷̪̿̄̄Ţ̷̮̱̫̩̻̝̜̯͚̼̈̔̇̽̃͒̃̑̇̈́͝Ŷ̵̡̧̛͉̹͙͍͉̘͈̣͎̉͌́̓͐̑̌̕ͅ ̷̨̛̟̞͉̞̟͛̍́I̸̡̧͉̤̦̩̼̙͊M̸̰̬̫̈́̅̄̐́̈́̀͘̚M̵̢̨͇͓͙̑͂͌̀̎͠Ũ̵͇̩̦͚̱̤͍̓̒̀̒̓͊͆́͌N̸͕̔̔̈́͋̍̄̉̏̚̚͠İ̶̡͖͚̬̋͌̓̂̿͂̒̉͝Ț̸̩̤͉̟̑̃̅̊̌̍̽̀͠Y̵̰̬̼͉͖͙͔͖̲̼͙̫͛͜.̴̲̩̦̦͉͇͔̮͔̙̫̊̿̒́͒ ̷͉͙͑̓̾̓͋̆C̴̯̲͙̠̳̫͐O̶͈̓͗̉̓̕ͅN̸̛̤̲͚̥͍̖̩̑͒̅̇͐̎̊̃͂͠C̶̛̛̮͋̓̈́̇̐̈̿̎͐̚̕Ȩ̷̱̩͆̔͂P̸̝͚͈̞̥̱̝̪͆͋̒̒͌̃̍̐̌̕͜͝͝Ţ̵͈͕̱͓̮͙̞̘̹̇̑̎̓̐́͗̀́͐͠ ̸̨̈̓̋̋͆̾͝Ĩ̸͉̜̰̚͜M̴̙̝͈̗̩̼̼͕̈̐̽̇̀̍̌̅͛̑M̸̡̺̘͖̼̫̲̌U̶̢̢͓͓̗̳̱̤̹̱̞̼̓̓͑͘̚͝N̶̛̗̆͌͛́Ĭ̶̢̡̙̥͇̲̮̬̰̩̠͎͜T̸̟̮́ͅY̵̨͇̜̥̘͉͑͋̂̉̌͑̊̃͐̀̚ͅ.̵̟̘͎̖̬͓͔̰̤̂̐ ̸̢̛͎̦̝̐̓̓̎̆̓̓̄͆̔̄̈́A̸̧̬̘̻̪̗͌̊͆͌͒̽́͐̕͝B̴̦͚͉̗̭̐͆̐͊͋͊̀̑̓͆͠͠S̵̬̯͙̒̈T̵͇͍͉̋͌͌̐̿̉͋͗͛́R̵̡̬͙̜̭̮̙̣̳̪̘̂̋͒͒̊͋̌̌͝À̶͖̟͉̩͔͕͎̠͈̽̄̊̂̑̌̕Ĉ̸̢͈̤̙̼̳̝̩͎͔̈͜T̶̜̝͖̲̓̉͌ ̸̡̞̩̏̈͑̋͐͌͘Ể̶̼̳̟͋̂̾̈́̋́͗̅X̷͍͇͙͔͕͎̿̒̈́͐Ị̶̘̜͙͚̱͙̗̅́͂̓͌̄͑͑̊Ŝ̸̗̅̏͝T̸̞̫͔͔̱̲̳͙͉̞͎̿͝E̵̻̙͈̊̒̎̅̚͜N̵̹̈́͊̅̉̋̔́̍̑́̾̊͘ͅͅC̶̡̬̯̫̝̪̥̘̱͓͇͆͂̀͗̋̕͘E̷̙̻̱̟̝͔͉͍͉̫͓̳̰̋̇̈́̀͝.̴̺͍̮͈̔̒̍ ̵͔̈́P̷̢̲͔̘̗͔͙͕͕̪͗̂͛́̇̍̾̕͝͝L̸͍̘̝̭̩̓̀Ò̶̝̘͕̘̹̙͓̮̪̮͗̈́̌͊̈́̕͜͝͝T̵̡̡͍͙̆̔̾̓̎̕̚͠͝͝ ̴̛̤̞̤̮̋̏̅̍̀̀̈̃̋̕͘͝I̶̢̦̮͍̹͓̜̦̝̻̺̾̑͜͜M̸̼̔́͗̚͝͝͝M̴̘̝̺̭̓͑̐̆̋̓̂̕ͅU̷͇̞̒̌̀̈́͝N̷̡̟͈̮̗̙̳̂͌͐̀͜I̴̧̛̺͕̝͓̯͓͕͊̾̋̏͌̕͠ͅŢ̶̨̞̗͍̦̙͔̦̱͎̼̗͂̓́̿́̐͛͊̉͒̆͘Y̴̗̞͇̪̞͛̒͗̽͋͒͜ͅͅ.̷̧̺̅̇͌̑͆̃̊̄́́͘͝͝ ̵̡̢̡̨̲͎̘̺̹͙̳̣́̓̇́̆͊͗͑̂̃̍́͘Ǹ̸̡͉̣͗̂̌̃͊͆͌̊͗̓Ȏ̶̪̬́̂͛͗̊͝Ñ̷̻̪̫͔͉͓̽̀͠͝ͅ-̸̡̛̹̜̙̰̱̿̀̂͌͋͋̀̽̏͛́̃ͅĘ̸̢̣͔̜̳͖̹̝̻͓̀̅͊̕X̸̜̘͇̰̾̎̈́͆͛̉͝Ḯ̶̮̘̞̈́̓̀́̅̉̆͋̌̄̈́͝S̵̬̠̝̼͆̅̋͋͛̔͌͂̏͠͝T̷͉̄͒͒ͅË̵͎́̇Ǹ̶̜͕̉̋͂̈́̊͐̔͝͝Ţ̷̡̲̘͔̈́̌́̌̈́̈͛́̾̀͠ͅ ̸̛̩̝̥̣̯̪͙͈̦͍͋̏̀̾͒̐̎͜͝͝͠P̶̡̱͎̠̩̙͖͎͕͒̌ͅH̵̥̹̜̻̣͈̲̿͋̄̂̋̚͜͝Y̵̧̺̺̼̰̞̩̦̫̗̼͑̍̀̎̍̿̓̋̽̅̍͝S̶̨̨̲̪̣̝͆͒͜͝I̷̢̨̧̛̲̟̳͖̟͚̹͗ͅO̶̥̠͉̩̘̩̍̓̀̀̎̓̈̕L̷̯̮̊̆̕͘O̴̢͚͙̫̞͚̙̅̉͛G̵̢͎̥̞̺̯̥̤̲͚̦̋̽Ỷ̵̨̩̲͙̤͇̭̦̮͇̝̱͒.̷͕̩͓̼̿̍̄̀̆̍́̉ ̴̨̞̩̭̱̪̖̠̭̈͒͗ͅN̶̯̮̜͕̄̎̅̉̌̍̽͜͠ͅƠ̴̧̺̖͕̗̖̗͙̰̟̣̓̂̄͐̐̇͛̓͊̓͝N̵̳͇̬̣̦͓̦̾̀̀͊̿͊̄̀̿͜-̵̭͚͓̭͈͑̇̋̈́̐̚͝D̸̢̦̳͈̗̖̭͋̀́̈͋͝͠Ŭ̸̢̫́̇̓͊̽͘͝A̸̘̻̗̤̭͕̯̣̲̋͊̎̎̀ͅL̵̡̪̯̪̫̠̟̝͓͒̍͂̎̕I̷̢͖͊͛̄͒̃͑̚ͅT̶̛̹͕̰͚̥͈͇͓͊̊͆̂̄̅͒͝Ẏ̴͕͇̮͇.̶̬͓̮̌͒͗͛̎͐̓͜

Skrrk…! Skrrk…! Skrrk…!

P̷̛̖͖̞̠͉̭̾̈́͐̒o̴̮̜͖̣̪̥̩̬͗͗̐̍͆̓̋̇̾̄̅̀̃̕͜͠ͅw̵̧͙̱̭̯̙͉̮̻̗̼̪͍̳̋̂͂̑̎̀͂̿͆͆͗̚ė̵̢̧͔͎̰̣͍̝̩͍̑̎͘ͅr̸̢̡̥̙͓̼̎̊̈́̉̿͆͐̇̀̔̄̆̿̈́͜ ̸̧̨̨͉̠͍͆͛̽̓̏̊Ḍ̵̡̛̻̺̊͗̇̈́̕o̸̧͓̟̱̺̰̽̀́̕n̷̫̥͖̥͚̻̫̬̯̦͉̣͗̋̿̿̋̀̃̿́̌̊̔̕̚ͅͅo̶̱̐̂r̵̞͙͙̦͚̤̝͖͍͊́͗͌̂͂̐̕͘ͅ:̷̧̥̹̫͇̹̫̣̼̹͍͎̥̤̉̀ͅ ̶̨̧̛͙̠̫̜̖̪͈̳͔͖̖͇̰̗̠̄̆C̴̨̛̯̝͈̜̜̲̼̥̿͆̈́͛͛͌̾͊̊̂͜͜͝O̶̯̭̓̃ͅM̷̲͕̳͛̿́̔̈́̓͘M̸̢̛͕͎͈̤͍̒́̒̏̑̊́̀̿͐̋̈́̚͝͝A̵̝̖͖̘̩̩̤͇̋͂͒̉̎̇́N̵̤̫̈́͒̍̈́̈́͘̚͝D̷͔̖̗͖͖̥̘̰̈́̄͊̒͊́̉̈̚͘͘͝E̴̛͓̣̼͖̘̪̼̫̘̪̯͑̏̋͛̏̑͊̒̋̉̚͝R̸̢͇͔̬̤̺͉̙͕͇̝̤͂̌͌̽̊̊̂̀̓͜ ̵̧̟͈͇̺̬̗̳̩̱̘͙̞́ͅÓ̸̢̲̮̘̓͘Ḟ̵̡̢̱̮̘̟̮̪̩̼̯̣̜͖̰͕́̃̈́͒̓̌̇͜͝ ̶̨͇̫̼̭̬̞̬̈́͘͜T̷̨̥̜͚̜͍͎͙̀̂̄͗̈͑̐̀̿̽̓̕Ḧ̶̢̝̖̞̥̘͔͈̮̺̯̈́́͒̒͆͑͋̎̒͆͑̌͌̋̚̚ͅE̴̢͍̭̭̟͂̇͒̅̆̈́͊̈͋͆̚͝͝ ̵̭̰̞͓̠̭͙̬̗͙̱̤̹̪̋͊̚̚ͅC̸̡̛͓̺̲̯͔͍̝̮̰̟̫̟̥̞̤̓͂̄͌̓̀̈͆͆̀̓́̓̅̚͝E̶̛̲̲̝͚̘̻͓͇̳̐̿͒̆̾Ľ̷̯̫̫̦̟̪̘̗̮̙͝E̵͙͚̼̮̫͙͚͎͓̦̞͔͕̓͜͜͜S̷̨͇͕̯̠̦̫͈͉̦̭͈̿̌̅͗̾̎̒̐͂̀́̕̕͠͝͝T̴͕̖̰̆͊̒͝Į̶͇͖͖̺̘͙͕͗́Ą̸̢͓̪̥̺̠̼͈̖̟͉͔̜̦̱̿̂̅̅͆͊́̊̉̓͋̇͐̀̅͝L̶̛̛̘̮̦̮̼̟͎̦̤̰̆̄ ̴̛͕̳̻̌͘F̴̡͇͈̜̲̪̜̠̙̌̊͒̄̾Ò̴͓̜̦̤͕̩̲̰̱͗̈́̋͑̀͋́̈́̽̓͜͜͝͠͠Ů̵̧̡̡̼̥͈̙̠͕̗̏̿̂͜Ř̸̪̝̲̮̟͈̙͂̀͘͝T̶̢̛̛͚̼̝̹̞̙̦̙̦̦͇͉̓͐̏̔̈͗́̌́̎͛́͝ͅͅḤ̶̨̨̨͕͎̩̦̖̙͎̰̲͓̱̀̈́͐̌̽͆͑͛̆͐̍͑̚͝͠͠ ̸̺̥̮̭̤̮͈̖͖͕̩͚̺̤͇̰̟̎̉̄̈́̒́̍̎͊̏̂̾̕͝͠H̵̛͖̱̍̑͑̅̔Ơ̵̧̨͙̠͚̲̘̔̀͊̈́̏̀̈́̑͛̀̋̉̋͊̐̚S̷̢͙̪̓͒̍͂͛̓̽͑̍̄̃̕̚͠T̵̢͙̦̟͖̝̝͈̳͕̖͗̅̌̀̈́̀̊̓͝͝ ̶̫͊̆̀̋̓͛̿͐̔̽͝'̸͇̤̣̭̪̔͊́͂͐̾͛͛͒̎̓̒̚̕͝͠͠ͅO̶̠̼͇͙̻͙̤̣͋̽̏͜ͅṊ̵͓̥̺̠̰̺̄̐̄͜͝Ȩ̷̡̧̠̹̋̎̋̀͋̚̕͝ ̷̡̫̹̖̲͗̒̽̌̔̀̏̉̽̈̌̈́͌̎̈́͘͝Ą̶̮̤͎̲͙̖͎̗̭̼̭̣̣͓͋̈̀͆̃̔̏̿B̸̬̼̦̓̾͆̀̇́̀͋͗̈͝O̴̩̞̤̬̜̪̱̍͂͑͠V̸̢̡̧̳͖̼͕͍̆̈͐́̑̿̓̿̄́̄̾̕͘̚͠͝Ė̴̢̛̞̲̯̖̬̜͚͊̀̽̍̂͝ ̸̢̢̛̱͙͔̥̦̟͔̘͎͍͓͓͚̆̋́͠ͅÀ̸̢͓̭̺͈̲̥̣̠̰̀͐̈͌͊͗̒̔͑̒͛͝L̶̜͍̥̙͍̰̥̯̔͛̎̿̃̂̈́̕͜L̶̖̞̭̜̯̠̎͑̐̐̓͐̾́̒̓ͅͅ'̴͇͓͍̬͙͙̈͌̊̋̔́̾͐͆͐̓̚͝͝͠.̷̨̢͕̟̞͍͇̣̩̳͙͙̖̭͂̒̎͜ ̶̨̖̣͎̖͖̂͆ͅ ̶̤̠̘̮͎̹̩̽̆̌͐̐͆̄̊̀̈͐̍́̇̉͋̚ͅ ̵̧̡̡̛͚̝̟̀̈́̎̏͌̅̓̓͛͂͊̔̋̂̕̚ ̶̢̩͍̖̱̉̿͗͐̀̋̋̂̚̕ ̴̨̨͕͕͖͔̩̦̹̲̼͖̜̌̃̐̑͆̓̿͒̚͘͜.̴̢̛̙͙͉̹͎̺̳͊͐̄͌̀̈́̉̅͠

.

.

.

The screen died once again.

"... Know what? I think I made a mistak—"

Boom!

What followed soon after was a bright light and with it came pain…

Pain...

Then darkness...

Then silence...

Then emptiness…

Then nothing...

Then nothing...

Then nothing...

Then nothing...

… … I...

Then something...

I am…

Then something…

Then something…

… O̸̡̯̱̟̦͖̦̠̊̒̔̐̐̿͘͘n̴̢̧̹̎͗́̃́͜e̷̦̯͔͖̺̳͇̅̇̆́̎͗͘ ̸̺̼͇̺̀͛̿̂W̸̮̩͖̳̦͇̎̕ͅh̴̜̝̼͖̤͙̦͑͛̈́̎̈́̀̑̆o̶̧̞̽̀́̉͆̀͑̀ ̶̧̪͔̘͇̳̩͕͎̍̔̄̓̋͠I̷͖̜͔̬̬̤͑̌͛̍̅s̸̻͊̆͘ ̸̺̳̙̲̦̼̼͉̗̓̍̒́̿̽̿̂͝ͅA̴͍̻̺͒͗̓͐̅̑̅l̷̢̳̳͈͓̼̚l̶̝̙̳͚̦̭͔̳͍̓̋̍ …

Then... EVERYTHING…

ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ

3 months later...

Oklahoma Cemetery

(James Howlett P.O.V)

There were many things that James had no joy doing ever since he had begun being an X-Man. But if he had to name one of the most annoying thing of all, it wouldn't be facing Magneto and his goons or facing some kind of cosmic entity—sometimes, James has found himself wishing for that.

Those he could actually slash.

Heck, it wasn't dealing with Scott and his annoyingly stupid decisions.

What James hated doing the most is taking care of kids.

Namely the ones in the Institute.

Spongy meat balls of chaos and vermintude—that's what they are. It hadn't once that James has caught them playing or stealing his ride without his permission -permission he certainly wouldn't give. His drinks sometimes goes off on a long break -a break of no return- and when James ask it's always a no-no or why is he accusing them...

People, sometimes, really forgets that he has a good sense of smell.

Well, he always gets them back during physical training. Though all things considered, James didn't see that as enough to compensate him.

Those were really damn good beers.

But even so, if there was one thing James hated when dealing with kids; it would be dealing with kids too powerful for their good.

The Quentin Quire's fiasco of months ago only served to strengthen his believe.

Now, though it seems he would be dealing with another one.

One of a much grander scale if the strange happenings around the Milky Way from 3 months ago hadn't been obvious enough.

'Omega Mutants just keep popping up like damn flies, these days.'

Hopping down the jet, James sniffed as he put on his Wolverine persona—which, frankly put, is the only persona he can truly be himself.

"Ready there, git?" Wolverine asked his partner.

Nodding, Kitty Pryde, codename; Shadowcat adjusted her googles.

"Ready as ever."

On Shadowcat's arm was a ball size mechanism the size of a beach ball. With a whirr, the mechanism hummed to life and floated as a voice came out from it.

"Can you both hear me?" Emma's –haughty in Wolverine's opinion- voice sounded from the device.

"Loud and clear." Shadowcat replied.

"Good, Prodigy's work is always a darling to use. Now, let's go see our new friend."

"New friend, huh..."

Grunting as they walked towards the cemetery now covered with a crystalline dome and surrounded by the city police, Wolverine muttered.

"Let's just hope this Mutant ain't crazy like the rest of them."