Ryder Grant awoke to the sharp, invasive sound of his alarm, the obnoxious beeping keeping him awake even though he'd rather stay asleep. He groaned, blindly reaching for his phone to silence it. Blinking against the dim morning light that seeped through his blinds, he stared at the ceiling for a moment, dark bags under his eyes, he'd studied nearly the entire night.
He remembered the feeling clearly. Sitting at his desk, textbooks scattered around him, struggling to focus on the endless assignments, he had been overwhelmed with frustration. College was supposed to be the gateway to something bigger, but lately, it just felt like a trap, a trap that he was slowly sinking deeper into.
"What am I even doing with my life?" he had muttered under his breath. His mind wandering far from his studies, drifting into thoughts of all the things he wished he could be doing. Adventures, something meaningful, anything that would make him feel like more than just another face in the crowd.
And then, with a frustrated sigh, he had glanced over at the strange artifact he'd found at the garage sale a few days ago.
It was a weird thing—a small, dark orb, etched with strange, unreadable symbols. The man who sold it to him hadn't been able to explain much about it, only that it was "old" and "looked cool." Ryder had bought it on impulse, drawn to the way the light seemed to bend around it, making the object look both real and not real at the same time.
With a laugh, Ryder had picked it up and sarcastically made a wish. "I wish my life had more to it. Something exciting. Something amazing."
Then he'd tossed it back on the desk, not thinking much of it before going to bed.
Now, staring at the ceiling, a strange chill ran down his spine. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes before they landed on the orb—except it wasn't where he had left it.
It had been on the far corner of his desk last night, but now it was dead center, glowing faintly with a pulsating light.
Ryder blinked, rubbing his eyes and looking at the orb again.
The orb shimmered in response, as if it were aware that he was watching. The air in the room felt charged, like the moment before a thunderstorm, making his skin tingle.
"The hell...?"
He climbed out of bed, his movements slow and cautious, half-expecting the whole thing to be a trick of the light. But as he approached the desk, he realized it was very real. The orb seemed almost alive now, its surface rippling like liquid under a thin glass.
Ryder reached out, hesitating for just a second before his fingers brushed against the cold surface.
The moment his skin made contact, the orb flared with a blinding white light. Heat shot up his arm, spreading across his chest, and before he could pull away, it surged through him like a wave, knocking him off balance. A burning feeling absorbed his body, like he was stuck in the middle of a burning building, it hurt like hell, but he couldn't even find the strength to scream.
His vision swam, the room twisting and warping around him. Ryder felt his knees buckle as his mind was filled with a rush of images—flashes of places he'd never been, worlds beyond imagination, each one more vivid and intense than the last.
He heard voices, whispering words he couldn't understand. And then, just as quickly as it had started, everything went dark.
…
When he woke again, it wasn't gradual. It was sudden, like someone had flipped a switch inside his brain. Ryder gasped, sucking in a deep breath, his body jolting back to consciousness. His head throbbed, and his vision took a moment to clear.
He was still in his dorm room, lying sprawled out on the floor.
"What the hell just happened?" he muttered, pushing himself up onto his elbows.
His eyes darted around the room, and they landed on the orb—now completely dull, lifeless once again, but somehow different. It was still sitting on his desk, but its surface had cracked, thin lines spider-webbing across it.
As he pulled himself to his feet, he felt... strange. Like his entire body was buzzing with energy, a warmth settling in his chest. His hands trembled slightly, but not from fear—from something else, something deeper.
Ryder's attention snapped back to the orb as it gave one last pulse of light, then shattered into dust before his eyes. The relic was gone.
His heart pounded, and he took a step back. He didn't know what to think, but everything in him screamed that this wasn't normal. He should have been panicking, but instead, he felt... different. Lighter, more aware of the space around him.
Before he could process the strange calm that had washed over him, his phone vibrated on the desk. Ryder grabbed it, his mind still reeling from the shock of what just happened.
The screen flashed with notifications, one after another. The first one caught his eye:
Breaking News: Explosion at Stark Tower.
Ryder's heart skipped a beat. He tapped on the alert, opening the news app.
A live feed played, showing the familiar skyline of New York City—except it wasn't the New York he remembered. The reporter's voice cut through his confusion, explaining the chaos as the camera panned to a familiar sight: Iron Man, flying through the air, engaging what looked like some kind of advanced drone army.
"What... no way," Ryder whispered, his fingers gripping the edge of the desk.
Another notification pinged.
Stark Enterprises Announces New Collaboration with Wakanda.
Ryder's breath caught in his throat. His hands started to shake, but not from fear—this time, it was realization. The pieces fell into place as he glanced out his window, noticing a skyline that was not the one he'd gone to sleep to.
This wasn't his world anymore.
Somehow, his wish had come true.
He was in the Marvel Universe.