Fuuuuuuuck, fuck, fuck!
"I am Grooooot!" A thunderous voice echoed through the devastated landscape as golden hair caught the dying light filtering through smoke and shadow. Massive branches, thick as ancient oaks, launched themselves like spears toward a charging rhinoceros-like creature.
BOOM!
The branches splintered against the beast's armored hide like matchsticks against steel.
Let me introduce myself properly.
My name is James Moriarty, and I'm what you might call a transmigrator—though I never asked for the job.
It all started when I was playing chess on my PC, crushing opponents with ruthless efficiency. Then this challenger appeared: DefinitelyNotGod.
The username should have been a red flag, but arrogance made me accept.
I wiped the floor with him.
Then—
BOOOOM!
"What the fuck is happening?" I screamed as reality tore apart around me.
My body stretched and distorted, pulled into a swirling black hole that had materialized in my bedroom. The sensation was indescribable—like being turned inside out while passing through a cheese grater.
"Haaaaaa!" My scream echoed as I became noodles, my consciousness scattered across infinite strands of existence.
In the void between worlds, countless noodles of my being slowly converged, reassembling into something resembling James Moriarty. When I opened my eyes,
I found myself floating in star-drunk darkness, face to face with a man whose beauty defied description. He held a cosmic pen, writing reality with casual strokes.
"You arrived," he said, his voice carrying the weight of galaxies.
"Who the fuck are you?" I demanded, though my voice cracked with newfound vulnerability.
"You can call me Believer." His smile was winter-sharp.
"You were trash-talking quite enthusiastically in our game. Where's that confidence now?"
"You're that fucker from the chess match?"
"Indeed. I called you here because you claimed life was boring—no heroes, no monsters, rating our world a measly two stars due to 'poor graphics.'"
He gestured to the infinite expanse around us.
"Well, James, let's see how you handle better graphics."
Before I could protest, he hurled a bird-like creature at me, along with a set of dice that gleamed with otherworldly energy.
"Oh, and there are consequences too," Believer added casually, continuing to scribble in his cosmic notebook.
The bird spoke in a voice like creaking wood: "Select your world." It transformed into what looked like a Jumanji board, but one that pulsed with malevolent life.
Desperation drove me to grab the dice and hurl them across the board's surface.
3008
The dice settled, and a statue on the board began to move with grinding stone sounds.
"Oh child, pity you," the board whispered in a voice like grinding bones.
MARVEL (C)
The words blazed across the board's surface in letters that seemed to bleed light.
"Um, Believer, I want to go home. My home is a ten-star place," I muttered, but he was already turning away.
"Select your perks," the board commanded.
I picked up three dice this time, feeling their weight like small suns in my palm.
6, 18, 9
The numbers burned themselves into reality.
"You have gained the class: The Maker"
"You have gained: Basic Tutorial"
"You have gained the skill: Door"
"Off you go, young one," the bird cawed before a boulder materialized above me, crushing me into paste with a sound like wet thunder.
Welcome to the tutorial room.
A disembodied voice greeted me as consciousness returned. I found myself in a space that wasn't quite space—gray walls that seemed to breathe, floor that felt solid but looked like mist.
"You are one of my perks," the voice continued. "Anytime you need a tutorial for anything, I will provide guidance."
"What exactly does 'Maker' do?" I asked, flexing fingers that felt both familiar and strange.
"The Maker class allows your creativity to manifest reality. In exchange, you need vast amounts of energy—human souls, monster souls, chi, ki, mana, or any other form of life force."
"So I should be able to create a status screen?"
"Yes. Simply imagine what you want, how you want it, and how it should function."
I closed my eyes and visualized: A virtual screen, always in ghost mode, displaying my abilities, stamina, HP, name, age, class, and a scan button. The scan should identify race, gender, and provide analysis. Bold letters, private mode, visible only to me.
"Ahhhhhhh!" I groaned as energy drained from my very essence, dropping me to my knees.
"As you lack energy, I will compensate for now," the room murmured.
A translucent gray screen materialized before me:
[STATUS]
Name: James MoriartyAge: N/A (not yet born)
Class: Maker (ungraded - can be weakest or strongest)
Abilities: Origin Skill Door, Origin Skill Basic Tutorial
[ANALYZE]"Use analyze,"
I commanded, focusing on the door that had appeared nearby.
Analyzing current location: Tutorial room.
Gender: N/A.
Age: N/A.
"The Door is a spatial gateway," the room explained.
"More than that, but for now, it's simply transport. As it grows stronger, you'll be able to visit other worlds."
"Is the tutorial finished?"
"Yes."
Which brings me to my current situation.
The world I inhabit is almost like Marvel's Cancer Verse—almost because there are zombies, giant eldritch entities, and worse things that defy description.
My friend and I are among the few survivors in this nightmare reality.
I met Groot when I was just a baby in this world. He raised me, protected me, became the family I never had.
"Groot! Groot!" he called out now, his voice cutting through the chaos of battle.
"You found it!" I yelled back, my heart racing as I spotted our target.
In this world, technology had surpassed normal limits. Before me sat a massive glowing sphere—an arc reactor bomb constructed from 10,070 individual arc reactors. It was meant to be our last resort, a nuclear option to cleanse this infected world. But before it could be deployed, the life-devouring plague had consumed everyone.
"Haha!" I laughed, the sound half-mad with desperate hope as I stared at the pulsing sphere of contained energy.
"Groot, raise me up!" I commanded.
Groot's branches responded immediately, lifting me toward the sphere. But then—
BANG!
The entire branch structure shook violently as something attacked from below.
"Groot!" I screamed, looking down to see a figure in crimson and gold armor—Iron Man, or what had once been Iron Man—launching repulsors at my guardian.
"GROOOOT!" Groot roared in pain and defiance, but continued lifting me upward.
"I need to reach it now!" I jumped from the wavering branch, my palm outstretched toward the reactor's surface.
Contact.
"I am the Maker," I whispered, feeling the reactor's azure glow begin to dim as my power drained its energy.
BOOOOOOM!
The explosion that followed would either save this world or damn it forever.
....
To my dear readers this is the rewritten first chapter I felt there plot holes in the previous one so I created a more vivid background chapter
How is it comment your thoughts