Jacob Brant was a very sick man. He had been diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer and according to the many doctors he had consulted, his chances of surviving were very low. In the end, all that modern medicine could do for him was to ease his pain. Meanwhile, all Jacob could do… was await his own demise.

If he were anyone else, he might have done so. Jacob however, had never been the sort of man that would easily give into hopelessness. He was something of an old soul, possessing a strong will, and a stalwart disposition. Although… it's worth noting that he wasn't always like that. As cliché as it might sound, his resilience was born of tragedy.

Though he would rather have lived a carefree life, fate had made him into a survivor. From the deaths of his parents at a young age, due to a car accident that had nearly crippled him. To the repeated failures of his foster father. A violent man, who'd gamble away every penny he would receive from the government, meant to provide for Jacob and his foster siblings.

He had even survived losing both his wife and daughter due to a racist with a gun. Losing them… that had been the only time in his life that he had found himself wanting to die. Looking for purpose after his loss, he joined the military and went on to fight abroad for nearly ten years.

A job that took him across Europe and eventually into the war in Afghanistan after 9/11. And for the most part, it had been a distinguished career. One that lasted until Jacob took shrapnel to his waist when the helicopter his squad had been traveling in was shot out of the sky. Jacob himself had barely survived, while seven members of his squad perished in the crash, alongside the pilots.

Having been the only one conscious at the time, it was all he could do to drag the remaining two living members of his squad to safety. It turned out to be a wise move, as ten minutes later, gunfire rang out from behind their position. He honestly didn't remember much after that. The men whose lives he'd saved said that when they came to, they saw him laying down suppressive fire.

Twelve dead enemy combatants lay scattered about the battlefield. All dead at Jacobs hand. Coming to his aid, they managed drive back the enemy insurgents until reinforcements arrived. Jacob had truly thought he was going to die that day, but somehow… he survived. And now, after living through all of that, he was told he was going to die. To something he couldn't even fight.

'Well, fuck that!'

Jacob decided, that if he were going to die anyway, it would damn well be on his own terms. He contacted one of his foster brothers, a career criminal, a "coyote" who smuggled people out of Mexico and into the United States. He had agreed to take Jacob into Mexico on one of his runs, and being a man of his word, one month later, Jacob found himself south of the border.

'Damn… this place is run down.'

Fifty miles outside of Chihuahua City, Mexico to be exact. As to why he was here, it was for his wife's family, more specifically, the two cousins she had left behind when she fled her homeland alongside her parents. Looking around, he could only call the area a shithole. He wasn't trying to disrespect his wife's memory; the outskirts around Chihuahua City were simply that bad.

'But…'

'How could it not be?'

Cartels ran this country and gang violence had become all too common as a result. The Mexican government put on a good show for the outside world, but in truth… their hands were just as bloodstained as the cartels, as they did very little to stop it. Sitting beside his foster brother Michael, Jacob was silent for a long time, until Michael spoke up.

"You don't have to do this Jacob… you can still fight this shit, bro."

"We… we can call Melissa, she made it rich with that last song."

"I'm sure that if you ask, she'd spot you the money for…!"

Shaking his head, Jacob cut Michael off. Hearing him suggest treatment for the tenth time, was one time to many.

"Sigh"

"For the tenth time, it's too late for treatment."

"Besides, I've already said all of my goodbyes… our little sister included."

Looking at Jacob with a pained expression, Michael didn't bother protesting anymore. His brother was serious about this, and he had understood from the start that trying to talk him out of it was pointless. His brother was a stubborn bastard, he always had been.

Even so, he had to try. Jacob was family. And to someone like Michael, who had lived on the streets until he was nine… family was everything. Hell, he had half a mind to knock Jacob out and drag his scrawny ass back across the border. It was only the look in his brothers' eyes that had stopped him. Jacob was tired and he wanted to die, even if the man himself didn't realize it.

Thinking back, in all his time knowing Jacob, he had never seen him give up… not even once. Not throughout all the heartache he had endured. Not even when his wife Camila and their daughter Lucia were murdered. That's how he knew that his brother was done. He could take no more. This… would be the end for a man that life had finally broken. Giving in, while tears fell from his eyes, Michael spoke the last words that Jacob would likely hear.

"Okay, bro… okay."

Not long after, the two brothers got out of the car they were in. The two hugged each other for what was certainly the last time. Steeling his resolve, Jacob grabbed the duffle bag he had left in the rear seat of the car and started walking towards a row of broken-down buildings in the distance.

He was headed to one of the local hangouts of low-ranking members of the Sinaloa Cartel, one of most powerful drug trafficking organizations in the world. Watching him leave was tearing Michael apart inside, but he knew that he a job to do. Jacob came here to extract his wife's cousins, who had both been abducted into a local prostitution ring run by the Sinaloa Cartel.

Michael had already tried paying the women's way out with his brother's life savings, though it had been to no avail. The cartel took the money but then refused to release the women. The only other alternatives were the police, who were most likely in the cartels pocket… or the use of force.

Both he and Michael clearly understood that there was no way in hell that they could get the two women out alive, not by using force… unless they used it as a distraction. It was still a long shot, but given Jacob's insistence, they decided to try it anyway.

So, after some deliberation and a bit of planning, they came up with one hell of a distraction. Sighing, Michael slowly droves his way down the street, then stopped at a row of old houses. There he waited. Roughly ten minutes later, the sound of explosions resounded through the streets, followed by loud gunshots.

'Dammit, dammit, dammit!'

His hands tight on the steering wheel, Michael cursed in his heart. Not long after the chaos erupted, the door to the back seat opened, and two frightened women climbed into the backseat of the car. Looking into the rearview mirror, he spoke the same words he did to all his clients, while adding something special at the end.

"La libertad espera, pagado con la sangre de hombres valientes."

---

Waking up in an extremely comfortable chair, Jacob… was a bit confused. Mainly because he had been surrounded by armed men, who were all… very angry with him. Not that he could blame them, he had killed a lot of their friends. Still, he felt that he should be dead. Mostly, because they had shot him, point blank, directly in the face… with a shotgun. Now, Jacob was a tough guy, but there was no way he survived that.

Lost to his confusion, Jacob somehow failed to notice that an elderly man was sitting across from him in a chair that was identical to his own. Clearing his throat, the man caught Jacob's attention before speaking in a lighthearted, yet comforting voice.

"Yes, you are."

"…Dead I mean."

Smiling at Jacob, the man continued.

"C'mon, there's no way you walked away from that…"

Still smiling, the man continued.

"And before you ask… no, this is not heaven."

"But… on the bright side, it's not hell either!"

Seeing that Jacob was still slightly confused, but listening to him intently, the man kept speaking.

"Confusing, I know, but…"

"You must understand... you died in a most… unexpected way."

"You see… the thing is, you were fated to die from cancer… not gunfire."

"That makes your circumstances somewhat… unique."

Motioning towards himself, the elderly man continued.

"That's where I come in, I am an arbiter… of a sort."

"I am consulted when disagreements occur between the factions that would normally be entrusted to decide upon your afterlife."

This was all a bit over Jacob's head. Trying to catch his bearings, he held up his hands to stop the old.

"Wait… why would these… factions?"

"Why would they be arguing over me?"

"I'm nobody."

The Arbiter let out a light peal of laughter when he heard Jacob's remark.

"Nobody?"

"First off, my boy, there is no such thing as a nobody!"

"All souls matter."

"From the most mundane, to the most extraordinary."

"Each are special in their own way."

Smiling, the elderly man pointed at Jacob.

"You for example."

"You are a paragon."

"A soul that is meant to guide others along the path they are meant to take."

The old man grimaced slightly before he spoke next.

"It's why the factions don't want to deal with you."

"Paragons are considered heroic souls… and fate… fate dictates that heroes, must be tested."

"With hardship and tragedy."

"And you… failed your test."

When he heard the Arbiters words, Jacob blanked out for a moment. The words the old man spoke took a moment to register themselves in his mind. As did their real meaning. Coming back to his senses, Jacob became enraged by what the Arbiter was implying.

"Wait just one damned minute… are you saying…?"

Choking up, he continued.

"Are you saying that my parents, my wife… my little girl?!"

"They died because of some… some… FUCKING TEST!!"

Jacob had reached his limit, shaking from rage, he screamed out the last of his words. Completely overwhelmed at the idea that his family had died because some cosmic force that he could scarcely understand, dictated it. That life was so cheap in its eyes.

'What a joke!'

'Was it all some sick game?'

'And who the hell did I piss off to deserve such a thing?!'

Jacob was holding his head in his hands, his whole-body trembling. Eventually, his anger passed, leaving only a heart wrenching sorrow to remain in its wake. If the man in front of him was telling the truth… then fate was truly a cruel mistress. He could only cling to the one hope he had left.

"My family…"

With little to no emotion left in his voice, Jacob whispered his next words.

"If I'm dead, then I want to see my family… please!"

The Arbiter steepled his fingers, then spoke in an apologetic tone.

"I am sorry, young man, but that will not be possible."

"As I've said, the factions that govern those places… they want nothing to do with you."

His words pierced Jacob's very soul. Devastated, he slouched down in his chair, tears streaking down his face. He didn't bother speaking anymore. Seeing this, the Arbiter looked up. Above his head lay countless universes of differing colors and sizes. Even after all this time, the Arbiter still found the sight to be breathtaking. Sighing deeply, the elderly man looked back down at Jacob.

"Fate is indeed cruel, I know."

"But it is not without its mercy."

"By way of apology, your loved ones were allowed entry into paradise."

Pausing, the Arbiter deeply sighed before he shortly continued speaking.

"If you had died because of the cancer, as you were meant to, you would have joined them there."

His words had yet again grabbed Jacob's attention.

"But… your actions, noble though they were, carry with them… unforeseen consequences."

"Well, unforeseen by you, that is."

Shaking his head, Jacob could not help but question why.

"I did what I felt was right."

"Was… was I wrong?"

Tapping his finger on the arm of his chair, the Arbiter pondered for a bit.

"You took the lives of others."

Seeing Jacob about to protest again, the Arbiter held up his finger to his mouth, gesturing for silence.

"…"

Seeing the gesture, Jacob gripped knees tightly, trying his best to remain calm.

"To be clear, in regard to fate, the lives you took are of little concern…"

"However!"

"Some lives… and more importantly, how those lives end, hold the potential to shape the fates of others."

Standing up from his chair, the Arbiter walked over to Jacob and looked him directly in the eyes. With a gaze that Jacob could not fathom, the Arbiter spoke again in a much sterner tone of voice, the way one would to a youth.

"Yours was such an end."

"Your action changed what was meant to be, thereby altering fates intended course."

The Arbiter frowned.

"Your death was meant to unite all of Mexico."

Jacob couldn't help but laugh at that, causing the Arbiter to frown.

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Cancer is hardly inspirational."

"How could it possibly inspire something like that?"

His frown deepening, the old man continued in an even sterner tone of voice.

"It would have!"

"Your foster brother, Michael for instance."

"Watching you die in such a way would have affected him deeply."

"Driving him to change his ways and finish what you never would have had the chance to do."

"He and your other siblings would have turned the prayers of thousands of souls into reality."

"Bringing about lasting change."

Turning from him, the Arbiter sighed deeply, rubbed his temples, and then spoke again.

"That is… if you had died as you were meant to."

Sitting back down in his chair, the Arbiter continued speaking in a slow, weary tone of voice.

"Now, fate has been altered."

"Denied its proper course."

"Michael's life and those of countless others will now be much different."

His words made Jacob feel slightly guilty, not that he could do anything about it now.

Rubbing the back of his neck, the old man continued.

"With that said… regardless of what the various factions have to say about the matter…"

"None of that is your fault."

"And holding you responsible, when you knew nothing about what fate held in store for you, would be a grave injustice."

"Besides, what's done is done and your past is not why we are here."

Waving his hand, a floating screen appeared in the air. On it was a display with three blurred lines scrawled across it, none of which he could make out. Try as he might, looking at them made Jacob's head hurt.

"You have three choices regarding what comes next for you."

Twirling his finger, the options the Arbiter mentioned became much clearer on the screen, allowing Jacob to barely make them out. He didn't know why he was being allowed to choose, but Jacob was hardly going question it at this point. He was already well beyond his limit for strange, after all.

"First, you may choose to have your soul erased."

"Drastic, I know, but… as none of the various factions want you, reincarnation becomes impossible."

Again, tapping his finger on the arm of his chair, the Arbiter continued.

"I don't recommend this one, but it's still a choice, all the same."

Jacob agreed, that wasn't really an option at all. Remembering that there were other choices, he kept on listening.

"Second, you may remain here with me."

"Though… I should warn you… it can get really boring after a few millennia."

Jacob laughed at that. He could only imagine. Still, he found this a much better option when regarding the first, which royally sucked. Recalling that there should be one more option, Jacob listened on. Noticing his expression, the elderly man laughed.

"What… keeping me company for all eternity doesn't sound appealing, aye?"

The old man laughed, then continued.

"Well, I can't say I blame you."

"Mm, where was I…?"

"Ah yes…"

"For your third choice, you may transmigrate into a different reality."

"This would mean that you would have a different body altogether."

The Arbiter leaned forward before speaking his next words.

"However!"

"And I cannot stress this enough…"

"Should you choose this option, you may never… and I do mean NEVER, return to this reality."

"Not under any circumstances."

"Should you do so, even accidentally… you will face the consequences."

The Arbiter went quite after that, likely to give Jacob time to consider. Jacob was by no means a stupid man, and given that the Arbiter seemed a fair sort, it didn't take him long to make his decision. Looking the Arbiter in the eyes, Jacob spoke.

"I really want to see my family, but I understand that they are all in a better place."

"So, if I can't be with them, then I should take the opportunity to live my best life."

"Anything less would be a disservice to their memory."

Smiling, Jacob continued.

"In that spirit…"

"I choose the third option… transmigration."

Nodding his head, the old man brought up three circular discs of some sort, each with the same strange blurry text that Jacob could barely read. Returning Jacob's smile, the Arbiter spoke.

"Spin each of the wheels and let fate decide."

Jacob wasn't so sure about the whole "fate" thing, but it was clear that he had to spin the wheels. It was a bit nerve wracking if he was being honest. This would decide his future, after all. Swallowing his saliva with an audible, 'gulp', Jacob reached out his hand to spin the first wheel. This one was labeled as the 'Wheel of Karma'.

Somehow Jacob innately understood that it would determine which reality he would end up in. Taking that into account, Jacob spun the wheel with all his might, watching intently, anxious to see what would happen. The wheel spun for a full minute, eventually slowing to crawl, before finally stopping. It landed on the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Jacob… was a tad bit shocked.

"That's an actual thing?"

"For real?!"

Seeing Jacobs apparent confusion for the second time, the Arbiter laughed.

"There are an infinite number of realities, an endless number of universes."

"Every thought in a writer's head, every whim formed in an artist's imagination… they create worlds in and of themselves."

"Still, to see the wheel governing luck, land upon such a reality is rare occurrence."

"It would seem that fate has not yet abandoned you."

That brought Jacob back to his senses. He wanted nothing more to do with fate. If he didn't have to spin the wheel, he would have never touched it. After spinning the first wheel however, he got the distinct feeling that if he hadn't, fate would have chosen for him. And it would have likely screwed him over in the process. Sighing, he spun the second wheel, labeled, the 'Wheel of Surrender'.

'Not a very hope inspiring name for something that will decide my future, but what do I know?'

This wheel spun for only three seconds, after which, a name appeared on its surface. Jacob realized that this name was to be his new identity. Though, once he saw the name, he had to stop himself from glaring at the Arbiter. That was because the name chosen was, "Grant Douglas Ward".

Jacob was what others might call a man of culture. His father had gotten him interested in superheroes at a young age, and the interest remained after his passing. For Jacob, comics and movies had become a way of keeping his father's memory alive. That's how he recognized the name almost immediately.

'Seriously though, Ward… really?!'

Agent Grant ward was a character on Marvels Agents of S.H.E.I.L.D., a TV show that had lasted seven seasons on A.B.C. The reason for Jacob's ire stemmed from the fact that Ward was perhaps the biggest villain in the series. Misguided from a young age, he made decision, after bad decision. Including, nearly killing the people he was supposed to protect. All for some shitty father figure.

'Fate hasn't abandoned me, huh?'

Jacob sighed, then reached for the last wheel.

"Let's get this over with."

Sharply spinning the last wheel, labeled as the 'Wheel of Adaptation', Jacob watched carefully. He knew that this wheel would grant him a fighting chance in the reality he was going to. Astoundingly enough, by giving him an ability/power template. Essentially, it would grant him an ability/power that the body he was being placed in did not originally have.

Getting excited by the thought of it, Jacob watched the wheel in anticipation. It soon came to a stop on a single word. Darkseid. Squinting his eyes, Jacob didn't even have to think about who that was. The character of Darkseid was perhaps one of DC Comics most powerful villains.

'Seriously… what the fuck is up with the choices here?!'

'One bad guy wasn't enough?'

Though, the choice was slightly surprising. Jacob was more than certain that Darkseid wasn't a part of the MCU. Seeing his confused appearance, the Arbiters voice sounded out from beside him, almost as if its owner could read his mind.

"You are in a place where time flows in all directions."

"Past, present, future, the wheel can pull from all of them."

"Who is to say that Marvel will never add Darkseid to its list of MCU characters?"

"Perhaps someday, Marvel will decide to make a crossover, hm?"

"Wouldn't that be interesting."

With his unasked question answered, Jacob looked up to see the Arbiter, who was now standing next to him… then, he found himself growing sleepy all the sudden. His eyes quickly closing, Jacob fell into a deep slumber. The old man laid a single hand upon Jacob's shoulder, then with a light push, Jacob vanished towards one of the many dazzling universes in the sky. Now alone, the Arbiter spoke softly, as if he were afraid someone might overhear.

"Farwell young traveler."

"May you find what was denied to you in this life, somewhere in the next."

After speaking, the old man snapped his fingers, dispersing what was apparently an illusion. Soon, his form became one made of pure light, with slightly discernible features. If one looked closely, they might notice a pair of sunglasses and a neatly trimmed mustache.

"Thank you, mister!"

Hearing a small voice, the being of light looked up, there, stood two blurry figures, one shaped like a woman and one with the appearance of a small girl with pigtails. Both were standing in what appeared to be a beautiful garden. The being only smiled brightly in response. Jacob had not known that the old judge had included the third choice, even when he was not required to.

He gave Jacob an out, so to speak. A reward for all that he had suffered. The being had never agreed with all the factions manipulating fate to begin with. Why should anyone have to suffer so, let alone bear such a tremendous burden. He even allowed Jacob's family to witness the proceedings, so that they could say goodbye one last time, even if Jacob would never hear it.

Done here, the beings form shimmered, soon dispersing into countless particles, which spread throughout the cosmos… until he was called upon again, that is. And in his wake, he left behind a single word, which seemed to give a strange sense of hope to any that might overhear it.

"Excelsior!"