Luke Wilson. That was his new name. But was it really "new"?
Luke sat on the edge of his couch, staring down at his hands. The more he thought about it, the more it didn't feel like he had taken over someone else's life. He had Luke's memories, his emotions, his experiences. It wasn't just a body he had been thrown into this life was his now. It felt as if Stephen, his past self, had simply faded away, leaving only the memories and guilt. leaving Luke Wilson behind.
With a deep breath, he stood up and stretched, his body still adjusting to the unfamiliar yet oddly familiar sensation of youth. He was 15 now—three years younger than when he had died in his past life. The difference wasn't huge, but it was enough to feel weird. It was like someone had hit reset on his life, giving him a chance to start over.
His stomach growled, snapping him out of his thoughts. Food. Right. He needed to eat.
Luke made his way to the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. Empty. Completely empty. Not even a sad leftover or a half-full bottle of juice.
He sighed. I should've bought something.
Living alone at 15 wasn't exactly easy, but he had made it work. His parents had died in a car accident not too long ago, and normally, he should have been placed with relatives. And he was—for a short while. But his relatives weren't exactly thrilled about taking him in. The only thing they really cared about was the large inheritance his parents had left behind. They didn't even try to hide it.
They made excuse after excuse to take little chunks of his money, slowly chipping away at what was rightfully his. Luke wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what they were doing, so he made a deal.
Give me my freedom, and you can have 20% of my inheritance.
At first, they resisted. But after they thought about it a little They didn't believe a 15-year-old could survive on his own, and they probably hoped he'd come crawling back, begging for help. When that happened, they can take more of his money so in the end, they signed the emancipation agreement, cutting him loose.
Of course, that left him in a tricky situation. He had a roof over his head—thanks to the help of his best friend's parents, who helped him secure an apartment—but he couldn't rely on his inheritance forever. He needed a way to make money.
His eyes drifted toward his phone, which was charging next to the TV. He had some ideas, but first, he needed to confirm something.
Luke grabbed the phone, unplugging it as he sank onto the couch. His fingers moved quickly as he searched the internet, pulling up information about superheroes.
Mutants. There were mutants in the news.
That was his answer.
This wasn't the MCU. It was the comics.
The realization settled in his chest like a weight. He didn't know much about Marvel, but he knew enough to understand one thing—this world was dangerous. Gods, cosmic beings, world-ending threats… all of them were real. And he was just some guy with wind powers.
He shook his head, forcing those thoughts aside. He had more immediate concerns, like how to make money.
Luke opened a new search tab, this time looking up the gaming industry. It was 2012, meaning a lot of classic games from his past life should already be out. But they weren't.
No Dark Souls. No Resident Evil.
Perfect.
Back in his old life, Luke hadn't just been One of the muscles of the gang—he had handled some of the gang's internal operations, including their digital security and programming. He wasn't a genius hacker or anything, but he was good enough to code and develop games. If he could recreate some of the biggest hits from his past life, he could make serious money.
And he already had one game in mind.
Hollow Knight.
It was one of his favorite games, and he knew it would be a massive success. Of course, making a game wasn't something he could do overnight. He needed help.
And I know just the person.
Before he could think further, a sharp knock echoed through the apartment.
Luke's head snapped up.
Speak of the devil.
Luke opened the door, and standing on the other side was none other than his best friend—Henry Hearts.
(Author's Note: The name is only a reference because I watched the Henry Danger movie and liked it. This is just a reference.)
Henry was the one who had convinced his parents to help Luke out when he got emancipated. Thanks to them, Luke had managed to secure an apartment in the same building as Henry's family. If there was anyone he could trust completely, it was him.
Luke's face lit up. "Perfect. I was just about to call you."
Henry raised an eyebrow. He hadn't expected such an excited reaction—especially not these days. Ever since Luke's parents died, he had been distant, more withdrawn. Seeing him this animated was… surprising.
"What's going on?" Henry asked, stepping inside.
"Come to the couch. We need to talk," Luke said, already making his way over.
Henry hesitated for a second before following. He had known Luke since they were kids—long enough to recognize when he was being serious. And right now, even though Luke was keeping his voice steady, there was a particular glint in his eyes. That look told Henry everything he needed to know. Whatever this was, it wasn't a spur-of-the-moment thing.
They both sat down, and Luke wasted no time getting to the point.
"Henry, over the last few days, I've made two major decisions that are going to change my life." His voice was as serious as he could make it.
Henry folded his arms, watching him carefully. "Alright… what kind of decisions?"
Luke took a deep breath. "First, I've decided to stop going to school and start working instead."
Henry blinked. Then he blinked again.
"…Wait, what?"
Luke nodded.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Henry sat up straighter, his voice rising in disbelief. "You can't just drop out of school, man! What are you thinking?!"
"I have thought about it," Luke said firmly. "This isn't a reckless decision, and it's not something I just came up with overnight. You know I can draw really well, and I know enough programming to get by. And you? You're majoring in programming. So, I thought maybe we could work together."
Henry narrowed his eyes. "Work on what exactly?"
Luke leaned forward slightly. "A game."
Henry's frown deepened. "A game?"
"I already have the entire concept planned out," Luke continued. "The gameplay, the mechanics, the tone—everything. I just need your help bringing it to life."
Henry exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "Luke… do you even know how to program? It's not something you can just—"
"I do know," Luke interrupted. "I can show you my skills later if you want."
Henry studied him for a long moment, then finally sighed. "…Alright. Tell me about the game."
That was all the invitation Luke needed. He immediately launched into an explanation, detailing every aspect of his idea. The gameplay loop, the art style, the story—everything.
Time passed without them even realizing it.
After what felt like hours, Henry leaned back, clearly impressed. "Damn. Did you seriously come up with all of that by yourself?"
Luke nodded confidently.
Henry shook his head with a chuckle. "This game will definitely be a hit."
Luke smirked. "Glad you think so."
"Alright," Henry said, stretching. "That's one major decision down. What's the second one?" He spoke in a deliberately goofy tone, but there was clear concern underneath.
Luke hesitated.
He had already decided to tell Henry, but actually saying it out loud felt different.
After a moment, he took a breath and said it.
"I'm going to become a superhero."
Silence.
Henry just stared at him, as if waiting for Luke to say, just kidding.
"…What?"
"I said I'm going to become a superhero," Luke repeated.
Henry's brain short-circuited for a second. Then—
"WHAT?!" Henry practically screamed.
Luke winced at the volume.
"What the hell are you talking about, man? Have you lost your mind?!" Henry's voice was filled with genuine concern now. "I mean, I get the whole 'dropping out of school to work on a game' thing, but superhero? You don't even have powers!"
The second he said that, a sudden whoosh filled the apartment.
A blast of wind erupted from Luke's body, sweeping through the room like a gust from an open window. Papers fluttered off the table, the curtains swayed, and Henry nearly jumped out of his seat.
"The hell was that?!" he shouted, eyes wide.
Luke gave him a smug look. "That was my power."
Henry stared at him, completely dumbfounded. "You have powers?"
"I awakened them a couple of days ago."
Henry opened his mouth, then closed it. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to process what he had just seen.
"…Okay," he finally said. "Even if you do have powers, this is still crazy! Why do you want to do this?"
Luke's expression shifted. The playfulness faded, replaced by something more serious.
"…I need to," he said quietly.
Henry frowned. "What do you mean?"
Luke looked him in the eye. "No matter what you say, I need to do this. I told you because you're my best friend, and I thought you deserved to know. But don't waste your time trying to talk me out of it—I've already made my decision."
Henry let out a long breath, rubbing his temples again. He still didn't like this, but he could tell—Luke wasn't budging.
"…If that's the case," Henry said, finally breaking the silence, "then I guess I should help you."
Luke raised an eyebrow. "Help me?"
Henry grinned. "I know a little sewing. I could make you a super suit." He said it cheekily, clearly trying to lighten the mood.
Luke snorted. "As long as you don't make me a clown suit."
They both burst into laughter.
The tension from before melted away as they kept talking, throwing around ideas and joking about the absurdity of it all.
It was ridiculous. It was insane.
But somehow, Luke knew—this was just the beginning.