Darkness enveloped him. The cold, silent void stretched infinitely in every direction, a sensation that wasn't painful but was all-encompassing. He couldn't feel his limbs, couldn't sense his body, as if everything about him was slowly being erased. Was this what dying felt like?
In the last moments of his life, he remembered a flash of panic—his world collapsing, an accident he had no way of avoiding. A truck barreling down the street, losing control, and then—nothing. The impact should have killed him instantly, yet he hadn't felt it. Only this cold, dark emptiness remained.
Then, slowly, warmth. A flicker of light pierced the void. At first, it was just a pinprick, distant and faint. But it grew brighter, inch by inch, illuminating the dark, and with it came sound—soft, muffled, like whispers in a language he couldn't understand.
Thump, thump, thump. His heartbeat.
It returned with a surge, crashing against his chest like a wave. His senses exploded into life. He gasped for air as his eyes shot open. His lungs burned, drawing in the first breath, and he coughed violently, trying to force his body into movement.
When his vision cleared, the sight that greeted him wasn't what he expected. It wasn't a hospital bed or paramedics looming over him. No. He was lying on the ground in an alleyway, the sky above a pale gray, threatening rain. His body felt strange, both familiar and foreign at the same time. He groaned, trying to sit up, his limbs trembling as he pushed himself off the damp concrete.
"Where… what?" He blinked, looking around in confusion. He was in the heart of New York City. The towering skyscrapers loomed overhead, their windows reflecting the overcast sky. It was familiar, yet something felt off—wrong, even. He hadn't lived in New York. Not in his old life.
He ran his hands over his body, checking himself for injuries. To his surprise, there was no pain, no bruises, not even a scratch from the accident. But his clothes were different. Gone was the simple outfit he had worn before the crash, replaced by a worn leather jacket, ripped jeans, and old sneakers.
"What the hell?" he muttered, standing shakily, the world around him slowly coming into focus. New York… but not his New York. The air felt different, like an echo of something distant but recognizable.
A jarring ding echoed in his mind, and suddenly, words flashed before his eyes:
Welcome, User. You have been successfully reincarnated.
His breath caught in his throat. "Reincarnated?" he whispered, bewildered. Before he could process it, another message appeared:
Initializing System… Complete.
Subordinate Growth System Activated.
"What the…?"
His mind spun as he struggled to comprehend what was happening. A system? Subordinates? It sounded like something out of a video game or one of those web novels he'd seen online. This couldn't be real. But everything around him screamed otherwise—he had somehow survived the accident, awoken in a new body, and now some sort of "system" was talking to him.
Another prompt appeared in his vision:
Current Status:
Name: [User Unregistered] Title: None Subordinates: 0 Abilities: Locked System Level: 1
Objective: Grow stronger by empowering subordinates.
He shook his head. "This can't be real. I'm dead. This is some kind of afterlife hallucination… right?"
But no matter how many times he blinked or pinched his skin, the messages remained there, hanging in his vision like an augmented reality overlay. And the city? It was all too real—the sounds of traffic in the distance, the faint smell of exhaust, the chatter of people. He was here, alive, in New York. Somehow.
Just as he was about to freak out, his attention was pulled to a nearby screen—one of those electronic billboards mounted on a building. A familiar logo appeared on the screen: Stark Industries. His eyes widened.
"Stark…? No way." He turned, scanning the area, and then it hit him all at once. The skyline, the subtle differences in the architecture, the company names plastered on the storefronts. He wasn't just in any New York—he was in that New York.
The Marvel Cinematic Universe.
He felt a surge of disbelief. He'd watched the movies, kept up with the fan theories, but this was impossible. How could he be here? His mind reeled, but a chill crept down his spine as the implications settled in. The MCU was no playground. It was a dangerous world, filled with gods, aliens, and threats beyond imagination.
"Holy… I need to figure this out."
He leaned back against the brick wall of the alley, trying to calm his racing heart. If this really was the MCU—and he had been reincarnated here—he needed to understand what was going on. The system, the subordinates, the weird messages… He couldn't afford to freak out.
His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden noise—a scuffle down the alley. He turned quickly, instincts sharper than before, and saw two men struggling with a third person, a woman, as they tried to shove her into a car.
His body moved before his mind could catch up. He was running toward them, feeling an inexplicable rush of adrenaline. "Hey!" he shouted, his voice surprisingly loud and commanding.
The men turned, their faces twisted in confusion, but they didn't back off. One of them, a burly guy with a shaved head, sneered. "Mind your own business, pal."
The old him—the man who had died in the accident—would have hesitated, probably turned away, too afraid to get involved. But now, something was different. He felt stronger, more capable.
He clenched his fists and, to his surprise, felt a strange warmth pulsing from within. His vision sharpened, and his muscles tensed. Without thinking, he charged at the closest thug, landing a solid punch to his face. The man staggered back, eyes wide with shock.
The other guy lunged at him, but the protagonist moved faster, dodging the swing and delivering a kick to the man's stomach. The force sent him crashing into the side of the car.
The woman scrambled free, her eyes filled with terror as she backed away. "Go, run!" he called to her, still keeping his attention on the two thugs.
They exchanged a glance, sizing him up, then decided it wasn't worth the trouble. With a grunt, they fled down the alley, disappearing into the streets beyond.
Breathing heavily, the protagonist stared after them. That was… surprisingly easy. He hadn't fought like that before—he never even knew how to fight. But something had changed in him, and he could feel it. He wasn't just the same man from his old life. This world was affecting him, and the system… it was making him stronger.
The woman, still shaken, looked at him with wide eyes. "Thank you… thank you so much."
He gave a small nod, unsure of what to say. "Just… be careful." With that, she quickly ran off, disappearing into the crowded streets of New York.
Alone now, he stood in the alley, the reality of his situation sinking in. He wasn't just a random bystander anymore. He was in the MCU. And whatever this system was, it had given him power—power he would need to survive in a world that was about to face threats far beyond what any normal person could handle.
He glanced down at his hand, still feeling the warmth from the punch. The system had changed him. It had empowered him. And if he could grow stronger by empowering others, then maybe, just maybe, he had a chance.
As the rain finally began to fall, soaking the city streets, he realized one thing: this wasn't just a second chance. It was the beginning of something much bigger.