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He closed his eyes, letting the waves of his meta-creation ability flow through him. His mind was swirling with thoughts, with possibilities. He had just finished creating the foundational skills he would need. But most importantly, he had created some overpowered skills. He knew that the Marvel universe and similarly the multiverse was filled with many overpowered individuals, and he had to make sure he could realize his goals in this chaotic multiverse.
As he lay there, thinking through his next steps, the door to his room burst open with a bang.
"Aryan Bhaiya! You're still in bed?!" came the energetic voice of Shakti Verma, his nine-year-old adoptive sister. She rushed in, her hair still messy from sleep, but her eyes bright with mischief. "Amma is going to scold you if you don't come for breakfast! You're so late!"
Aryan sat up, blinking at the sight of Shakti. Her face was familiar—too familiar. She felt like family, like someone he had always known, even though the memories were borrowed from this life. She was full of energy, always bouncing around with a contagious sense of joy. Even though she was younger by a year, she acted as if she were the older sibling.
"Coming, coming," Aryan muttered, rubbing his eyes and smiling at her. "Just give me a minute, Shakti."
"No, no minutes! Amma says now!" she said, grabbing his arm and trying to pull him up, her strength surprising for her size.
Aryan chuckled. The dynamic between them was heartwarming, a glimpse of the warmth he had never felt in his past life. The Verma family had taken him in after his parents had been killed by the British. Ravi Verma, his father's subordinate and a man of strong principles, had saved him from a similar fate. Lakshmi Verma, his mother's cousin, had treated him like her own child. And Shakti… well, Shakti had become the younger sister he never had.
He finally stood up, letting Shakti tug him toward the door. As they made their way to the courtyard, Aryan's mind wandered again, thinking about his new life. He wasn't just Aryan Yadav, the boy from 1934. He was also Aryan Yadav, the man from the future, with the knowledge and power to change things. He could use his abilities to alter history—bring India's freedom closer, perhaps? Or perhaps he could lay low for a while and focus on understanding his place in this world.
When they reached the courtyard, the morning sun bathed the small garden in a warm glow. The Verma family's modest household was filled with love despite its simplicity. Ravi Verma, a civil official, was seated on a mat, reading a newspaper, while Lakshmi was serving breakfast with a smile.
"Aryan beta," Lakshmi called out warmly, "come and sit. You slept in today, ha?"
Aryan smiled sheepishly and sat down beside Shakti, who immediately began helping herself to the food. He glanced at Ravi, who gave him a nod of acknowledgement. Ravi Verma wasn't just a civil official—Aryan knew from his memories that he was secretly a spy, working within the British government structure to gather information for the underground movement that aimed to free India from British rule. Ravi's calm demeanor belied the dangerous double life he led, and Aryan respected him for that.
"So," Ravi said, his voice deep and measured, "did you have any interesting dreams last night, Aryan?"
Aryan paused, caught off guard by the question. For a brief moment, the memories of his meeting with ROB and his new powers flashed in his mind, but he quickly suppressed them. He couldn't reveal too much, not yet.
"Just… strange dreams," Aryan replied, taking a bite of his breakfast. "But nothing important."
Ravi raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. "Dreams can sometimes tell us things we need to know," he said cryptically, before turning his attention back to his newspaper.
As the family ate in comfortable silence, Aryan's thoughts raced. He had the power to create anything, to mold the world to his liking. The Marvel Universe was out there waiting for him, but here, in 1934, there were more immediate matters. He could shape the future of this country, protect the people he cared about, and ensure that the legacy of his parents was honored.
But how? And when?
For now, he decided to take things one step at a time. He would learn, observe, and grow stronger. He had time—plenty of time.
As Aryan finished his breakfast, Shakti nudged him with her elbow. "Bhaiya, let's play after this! You promised yesterday!"
Aryan chuckled, ruffling her hair. "Alright, alright, I haven't forgotten."
As he looked at Shakti's beaming face and the loving family around him, Aryan knew one thing for sure: this second chance, this new life, was a gift. And he would use it well.
Despite the warmth of the scene, Aryan couldn't help but feel a strange disconnect, a hollow space in his heart that lingered beneath the surface. In his previous life, the concept of family had been foreign to him. Being an orphan, he had learned to navigate life on his own, with no one to rely on. He had never known the warmth of a mother's smile or the security of a father's steady presence. It was alien—this life of shared meals, playful banter, and unconditional love.
As Lakshmi laughed at something Ravi said, her voice light and full of joy, Aryan felt a lump rise in his throat. The simple beauty of it all struck him harder than any overpowered skill ever could. This was what he had been missing all along. A family. A real one. And even though these memories of them were from a borrowed life, the feelings they stirred were undeniably his.
He glanced at Ravi, the man who had risked his life to save him, and Lakshmi, the woman who had embraced him as her own. He owed them everything. Not just for taking him in, but for showing him what it meant to be part of something greater than himself. He wasn't alone anymore. And for once, that was enough.
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