BRIGHT LIGHTS. LOUD HORN. OH NO, I'M GONNA DIE!

The last thing I saw was the blinding glare of truck headlights rushing toward me like the hand of fate, its headlight burning into my retinas.

My body refused to move. I didn't even get to scream.

There was no dramatic last-minute dodge, no heroic moment of saving a random kid from the speeding truck... just me, standing there like an idiot as my life flashed before my eyes... A last minute reel of... well, disappointment.

My name? It doesn't really matter now, does it? But if you must know, I was your average guy: In my early twenties, single (tragically so), and moderately intelligent in a way that never seemed to actually help me in life.

I wasn't special. No tragic backstory. No secret billionaire inheritance. I was average in everything.. grades, sports, social skills (or lack thereof). The only thing I had above average was my ability to binge-watch entire anime series in a single weekend. I also had no six-pack abs, and definitely no hidden talents waiting to be discovered.

I was an only child and spent most of my days avoiding human interaction like it was a contagious disease. Every time I tried to talk to a girl, my brain just decided to blue-screen.

I mean, sure, I wanted to be cool, every guy does. I had my dreams of being a genius, a superhero, maybe even an overlord if things went south. But in reality? I was just some dude who worked a boring office job, barely had any friends, and spent most of my free time making sarcastic comments online.

I once tried to go to the gym, thinking it would boost my confidence. I lasted three days before I realized that lifting heavy things repeatedly was both painful and exhausting. So I went back to what I did best… reading stories about other people doing cool things while I sat on my couch eating instant noodles.

Did I have regrets? Oh, plenty.

Did I expect to be run over by a truck in the middle of my perfectly mundane life? Absolutely not.

In short? I was the definition of background character energy.

And now? I'm about to become street pizza.

As I stood there, frozen in front of the incoming harbinger of my doom, my brain helpfully decided to narrate.

Huh. So this is how it ends.

Not in a heroic blaze of glory. Not surrounded by loved ones. Just me, and a truck with absolutely no intention of stopping.

Then.. BHAM!

I felt an impact, but instead of the horrible crunch of bones, it was… weirdly soft? Like being hit with a pillow made of steel. The world spun, my vision blurred.

Instead of feeling my body explode into a million pieces upon impact, I woke up in a vast, empty hall.

The walls gleamed with metallic light, glowing blue lines running across their surfaces like a futuristic circuit board. The floor stretched endlessly in all directions, making me feel small and insignificant.

And then, he appeared.

A towering figure stepped forward, his red and blue armor gleaming under the eerie lights. His mechanical frame was built like a warrior, his glowing blue optics gazing down at me with an intensity that made my breath hitch.

I knew that design.

"…Optimus Prime?" I muttered, my voice weak.

The giant remained silent for a moment, as if considering my words. Then, his deep, commanding voice rumbled through the space.

"No, young one. I am known by another name… a name whispered across dimensions. I am the one who guides the chosen. I am… Truck-kun."

I blinked. "…Excuse me?"

"You have been chosen."

I stared at him, processing his words. "Hold on. Chosen for what?"

Truck-kun… who, by all appearances, was doing a great job impersonating a certain Autobot leader, paused. His gaze filled with something that suspiciously looked like wisdom.

"To embark on a journey across worlds. To carve your own path. To bring balance… and maybe even entertainment."

I squinted. "…Entertainment?"

"I watch over a universe for… recreation."

I felt my eyes twitch. "So what you're saying is, you run over people, yeet them into other dimensions, and then watch their struggles like some kind of cosmic reality TV?"

Truck-kun's optics glowed brighter. "That is… one way to put it."

"…Wow. That's deeply messed up."

"It is."

"…And you're just admitting it?"

"Yes."

I stared at him. He stared back.

I groaned. "Unbelievable."

"As a yellow haired, loudmouth kid once said: Believe it."

I sighed. "Alright. What now?"

Truck-kun crossed his massive arms, his voice solemn.

"I shall grant you two things. The first… a small favour."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? A wish?"

"No."

"…Then what?"

"You shall retain only fragments of your past memories. Enough to guide you, but not enough to overpower destiny itself."

I scowled. "So basically, selective amnesia?"

"It is for your own good."

"…Sounds like something a villain would say."

Truck-kun did not respond.

I sighed. "Fine. What's the second thing?"

"Your gift."

The air around him crackled with unseen energy. "A power that will allow you to survive in a world of gods and monsters."

I leaned forward. "Super strength? Time travel? Godhood?"

Truck-kun's voice remained steady.

"You shall receive… Rapid Adaptability."

I frowned. "…What?"

"Your body and mind shall evolve at an accelerated rate, adjusting to any challenge, any skill, any danger. You will become what you must, when you must."

I rubbed my chin. "So… a cheat that lets me keep up with the strongest, no matter what?"

"Precisely."

Now that sounded useful.

Truck-kun took a step back. "Your journey begins now."

I barely had time to react before the floor beneath me vanished.

This wasn't a hospital room. It was…a small, messy bedroom.

Not my bedroom.

My body felt different.. smaller, younger..

I sat up abruptly, my heart pounding. My surroundings were unfamiliar… simple furniture, shelves lined with books and trinkets, and a desk with a scattered mess of papers and an old laptop. The air smelled faintly of old wood and detergent. Everything felt oddly lived-in, yet completely alien to me.

"What the hell?" I muttered under my breath. My voice sounded…different. Younger. Softer.

I scrambled to my feet and rushed to the mirror hanging on the wall and froze.

Staring back at me was a face I knew all too well. A face I'd seen countless times on comic book covers, movies, and posters.

A teenage face. Messy brown hair. Familiar, but… different.

Peter. Fucking. Parker.

=========

Bonus chapter on hitting 350 stones