Death was supposed to be the end. A cold, empty void. At least, that's what I believed before I woke up in a featureless white space, with no discernible walls or ceilings—just endless nothingness stretching in all directions. It was disorienting, to say the least.

"So, you've died," said a voice, calm yet unnervingly cheerful. I turned toward its source to see a figure dressed in an immaculate suit, standing there as if he'd always been part of this blank canvas.

"Yeah, I figured," I replied, keeping my voice steady despite my nerves. "What now? Eternal damnation? Reincarnation? Or do I get to haunt my enemies?"

The suited man chuckled. "Not quite. Let's just say you've been given an opportunity. A rare one. How would you like to start over in a new world?"

My skepticism kicked in immediately. "What's the catch?"

"Smart," he said approvingly. "No catch, per se. However, there are… rules. You'll be reincarnated into a world you're somewhat familiar with—let's call it the DC Universe."

My heart skipped a beat. DC? As in Batman, Superman, and the Justice League? Growing up, I'd practically lived and breathed those stories. Every Saturday morning, I'd binge-watch episodes of Young Justice, poring over every plot twist and power dynamic. Knowing that I might actually exist in a world like that… It was exhilarating, but also terrifying.

"What's the twist?" I asked cautiously.

"You'll have access to a gacha system," the man continued explaining without a pause, gesturing as a glowing interface appeared in the air. It was a holographic screen with two options: Monthly Companion/Item Draw and Semi-Annual Power Spin.

I frowned. "So I can either summon a companion or an item once a month, or wait half a year for a power?"

"Exactly. You'll receive one power to start with—a free spin, if you will—but after that, it's up to you to manage your choices wisely."

It sounded… game-breaking. But also risky. "What if I get stuck with something useless?"

"Luck is part of the game," he said with a wink. "Now, shall we proceed?"

I hesitated for only a moment before nodding. What's the worst that could happen?

The screen lit up, the words First Power Spin flashing brightly. A wheel appeared, filled with powers ranging from mundane to godlike. My heart pounded as the wheel spun, faster and faster until it finally slowed…

Ben Hargreeves' Powers – Umbrella Academy

I blinked. "You mean the tentacle guy?"

"Precisely," the man confirmed. "Klaus called him 'The Horror.' You'll have the ability to summon eldritch tentacles from another dimension, along with enhanced physicality."

It wasn't Superman-level, but it was something. At least it's not something harmful. I nodded, satisfied. "I'll take it."

"You say that as if you had a choice," the man said, chuckling, snapping his fingers. The space around me warped, colors bleeding into the white void until everything faded to black.

I woke up in an alley, my head pounding like I'd just been hit with a sledgehammer, and my body feeling… different. Stronger. Taller. Like I'd spent the night in a weight room, getting pumped for a fight with a gorilla. I flexed my fingers, and an unfamiliar surge of energy coursed through me.

I stood there for what felt like hours, trying to make my tentacles appear out of my stomach—hell, even a single tentacle. Nothing. Zip. Zilch. I mean, what kind of cosmic joke was this? I had superpowers in theory but apparently not in practice.

Frustration set in, so I ran my hand through my hair—and that's when I realized it was damp. Great. Not only am I stuck in some weird universe, but I'm also sweating like a pig. I blinked, rubbing my face. My mind was racing, trying to piece it together. I was in DC, wasn't I? But worse... was I stuck in Gotham? That meant I was either going to have to deal with a bunch of psychotic clowns or try not to get murdered by a Bat.

Then I saw it.

A reflection in a broken mirror. My heart skipped a beat as I took in the sight of myself. Who was this guy? I looked like Choso from Jujutsu Kaisen—long black hair tied into a high ponytail, sharp features, and faint markings under my eyes that made me look like I was ready to fight the whole world. I looked like I should be a part-time demon slayer and full-time nightmare fuel.

I mean, seriously. Was I a superhero now, or just a weirdly ripped guy who might need a personal stylist? My face was sharper, my eyes glowing faintly, and my body… well, let's just say it looked like I had been hitting the gym for years without ever taking a break.

And just as I was staring at this new version of myself, a notification popped up in the corner of my vision:

Welcome to Earth-16. Young Justice timeline.

Wait. What? Earth-16? Oh no. I knew this world. I really knew this world. The villains, the endless chaos, and the fact that it was basically a DC smorgasbord of bad decisions waiting to happen.

I ran my hand over my face, trying to think. The Light, the Reach, and the infinite number of psychos out there who probably wanted to test my powers, or worse, experiment on me. And then there was the Justice League. Imagine running into Superman by accident. I'd be that guy who accidentally sets off the "Are you a threat?" alarm.

But hey, at least I wasn't just a normal guy, right? I mean, if I played my cards right, maybe I could survive and actually make something of myself. Get some powers. Make some money. Maybe even become a hero—or at least someone who didn't die in the first five minutes of existence here.

I stumbled through the alley, trying to keep it together. And then, there it was. The scent in the air, the distant sirens, the dark, oppressive vibe.

Gotham.

My heart sank as I realized where I was. The city that never sleeps... mostly because there's always someone robbing a bank, killing a joker, or running from the Bat. I stared at the smog-filled skyline, sighing deeply. Gotham. Of all places. Seriously? I must've been on some kind of cosmic "Worst Case Scenario" lottery.

Fck me, right?*

This wasn't just bad luck—it was cosmic-level trolling. Welcome to Gotham, where everything wants to kill you, and the Bat is probably already watching you from a rooftop. At least if I got murdered, I'd be able to say I went out in style. Or at least be part of a legendary crime scene.

Yeah, that sounded like a solid plan.

…

I needed a plan, and fast. First thing was clear: I had to get out of Gotham. The city was too dangerous, too unpredictable, and I wasn't about to stick around, waiting to end up as some gang's punching bag or worse, a target for the Bat. Once I was out of Gotham, I'd be free to figure things out. But to do that, I needed money. A little cash went a long way in this world, and I wasn't about to beg on the streets, not with the weird new powers I had.

I stood there for a moment, running through my options. Then it hit me—this was a new world, but money didn't change. I needed to find a way to get some fast—legally or otherwise. No judgment here. Maybe I could use my powers for some quick, subtle work. A bank heist? Nah, too risky. Maybe a quick mugging? Nah, I wasn't feeling that low yet. But I needed something. Anything.

I walked out of the alley, taking in the dark, crime-ridden streets of Gotham. The smell of rot, the distant sirens, and the ever-present tension in the air made me realize I couldn't stay here too long. Even with powers, Gotham could swallow you whole. I needed to move, and fast.

My eyes drifted to the small cat walking beside me, tail flicking back and forth. "Alright, buddy," I said, looking down at him. "We need to get out of here and find us a little stash of cash. Then we can figure out what the hell is going on with these powers."

He gave me a side-eye, almost like he understood, but honestly, I wasn't sure how much of a handle I had on this situation yet. One thing was for sure: Gotham wasn't the place to be if I wanted to figure this all out in peace.

As I was thinking about our next move, I realized I'd been calling him Flerken all this time, but I hadn't actually decided what to call him. The name "Flerken" just didn't sit right with me, and I wasn't exactly feeling the whole "alien cat" vibe. I needed something that felt more... personal.

"Alright," I said aloud, turning to look down at him as he padded along beside me. "We need to name you. Flerken's a dumb name, man. You're too cool for that."

He tilted his head slightly, like he was listening. His bright, but otherwise normal, eyes blinked slowly, and I swear, he gave me a look that said, I'm listening, hurry up.

"Hmm…" I thought for a second. "How about Tom? You look like a Tom. You're quiet, sneaky, and... a little mysterious. Tom works."

He stopped, cocking his head to one side as if considering my choice, then gave a low meow. Maybe it was approval, maybe it was just his way of saying "Sure, whatever."

"Alright, Tom it is then," I said with a grin. I rubbed his head lightly. "Welcome to the team, Tom."

From that moment on, it felt right. No more Flerken. Tom was my companion now, and it just clicked. Maybe it was silly, but calling him Tom felt like we'd bonded somehow.

We ducked into another alley, avoiding the main streets. The last thing I wanted was to draw attention to myself, especially since I didn't know how to use my new powers We needed to leave Gotham behind and figure out our next steps.

We finally managed to put some distance between ourselves and Gotham. The further we got, the less oppressive the air felt. The tension, the looming sense of danger—it was all Gotham, and I needed a break from it. Once I was out, I'd have some time to think about how to use these powers and where I could find a place to lay low for a while.

I glanced at Tom, who seemed to be keeping watch, alert and calm. "You're a good cat, Tom," I said, scratching him behind the ears. He meowed and nudged my hand, a soft purr escaping his throat.

When we reached a quieter area, I figured it was time to get something to eat. I couldn't exactly afford a sit-down meal, but a quick trip to a convenience store should do the trick.

Inside the small store, I picked up some chips and a bottle of water. As I made my way toward the door, I heard footsteps behind me. Turning, I saw a rough-looking guy—probably the store's regular thug—blocking the way.

"Hey, where do you think you're going with that?" he barked.

I sized him up, taking a quick inventory of the situation. He wasn't too tall, but his frame was solid. Definitely someone who thought they could intimidate people.

"Oh, just passing through," I said, trying to keep it cool. "I'll be on my way."

He stepped forward, clearly not buying it. "I don't think so. You're gonna pay for that."

I wasn't about to get caught here. Not with my powers still being a mystery to me. I glanced down at Tom, who was sitting near the door, watching the scene unfold. I had to act fast.

The man took a step toward me, reaching out to grab my arm. I wasn't sure what happened, but the moment the guy moved toward me, something inside me snapped and the tentacles shot out from my back. It was like my body was acting on its own, the power surging through me with a mind of its own.

The first tentacle struck the man's arm, and he was sent stumbling back, eyes wide in shock. I didn't have time to process what was going on before the next tentacle lashed out, slamming into the guy's chest. The force was enough to knock him off his feet, sending him crashing into the shelves behind him. And it didn't stop there.

The tentacles went wild—flailing around, whipping through the air uncontrollably. I tried to stop them, tried to rein them in, but it was like they were running on their own. The guy was knocked over and over, his body slamming into the ground with sickening thuds. I heard his screams, but they were drowned out by the chaos my powers were causing.

One tentacle wrapped around his leg, yanking him upward, and before I knew it, the next strike hit him in the face, slamming him back into the wall. Blood splattered, and I could feel the sickening weight of what was happening, but my body couldn't stop it. The tentacles were out of control, wildly thrashing, leaving destruction in their wake.

Finally, the man stopped moving, his body crumpled in a heap of mangled limbs and blood. I stood there, panting, as the last of the tentacles slowly retracted back into my body.

I stared down at the mess in front of me, my chest rising and falling with every breath. What the hell had I just done? The raw power, the violence—it was like something inside me had completely taken over. I didn't know how to control it, didn't know if I ever could.

I looked over at Tom. He was sitting calmly by the door, watching the scene unfold as though nothing had happened. His tail flicked once, and I couldn't help but feel a bit of a strange reassurance in his quiet presence.

"Great," I muttered, wiping my hands on my pants as if that would somehow make the situation better. "What the hell am I supposed to do with that?"

Tom just gave me a look, and I swear it was like he was judging me—though maybe that was just my guilt talking.

I couldn't stay here. Not after that. I had to get out, get as far away from the scene as possible before anyone noticed.

I walked out of the store, my legs heavy and my mind reeling. My powers were too unpredictable, too dangerous. I needed to figure out how to control them—before something like this happens again or worse, I become a target for the wrong kind of attention.

Tom padded quietly beside me, as if everything was just another day. And maybe, just maybe, I'd figure this all out. But for now, I was just trying to survive.