Lusborn felt a force of power surge through his body, and unlike the overwhelming, destructive strength he had felt while attempting to transform into the Hulk.
This time, it was controlled, refined, yet undeniably potent.
He could feel the energy humming beneath his skin, his senses sharpening in ways he had never experienced before.
The most crucial change, however, was his rapid healing. He watched in fascination as the wounds on his body closed within seconds, as if they had never been there.
The pain that had wracked his body mere moments ago was now just a memory. His breath steadied, and he flexed his hands, feeling the newfound strength coursing through his veins.
He wasn't absurdly powerful, but compared to his normal self, he was at least tens of times stronger. More importantly, he was no longer at death's door.
However, one thing he had noticed is that his transformations use his stamina, and his stamina had already been used up by the hulk transformation.
Now he wasn't sure if the recovery factor of this transformation also worked on his real cells.
After all everything the transformation does, it uses fuel which is his natural stamina.
So right now he was confused if his stamina had recovered with the transformation since Morbius recovered rather quickly, or if.... it was disturbing to even think about.
All he knew is that if he reached his limit, then his body would tell him, the way it did with the hulk.
Now that he was stable, he took the opportunity to truly observe his surroundings. He needed to figure out where the hell he was.
The robots were still fighting, their mechanical bodies clashing violently. He narrowed his eyes, focusing on the details. Judging by their designs, these weren't ordinary machines.
They were sleek, humanoid, their movements almost too fluid for simple automatons.
The level of technological advancement on display confirmed one thing—he definitely wasn't in his old world anymore.
The battle was intense, and he noticed that the ones engaging the robots weren't just soldiers but also law enforcement officers.
He spotted police vehicles, SWAT teams taking cover behind them, firing at the mechanical threats.
Civilians were scrambling in panic, running in every direction, bumping into each other in a desperate attempt to escape the carnage.
Lusborn took a deep breath, looking down at himself.
He was still wearing a black tuxedo—well, what remained of it. The once-pristine fabric was torn in several places, but somehow, it still looked good on him.
Strangely enough, he also felt taller.
Was it an effect of the transformation or the reincarnation? He didn't know.
He only noticed that his perception of his surroundings seemed slightly elevated, as if he were standing at a slightly higher vantage point than his previous self.
His shoes, however, were gone. Whether they had been disintegrated in the rubble or lost in the chaos, he had no idea.
Finally, he shifted his attention to his environment.
The building he had been buried under was massive, its glass walls shattered and collapsing.
The architecture was sleek and modern, meant to be a testament to human ingenuity, but it was now a war zone.
Robots were bursting through walls, debris crashing onto the floor, and fire sprinklers sputtering out water in vain attempts to contain the destruction.
He needed to move carefully—shattered glass littered the floor, and walking barefoot in this mess was a surefire way to get himself injured again.
As he took a step forward, he frowned. This place—it looked familiar. He had seen it before. But how?
His mind raced, searching for an answer.
He had just reincarnated, hadn't he? This was a new world, one he had never stepped foot in before. So why did this place look like something straight out of his memories?
I mean he was sure he had just been reincarnated, and according to these robot fiasco he was damn sure it wasn't his original world.
Surely he wasn't supposed to know anything or anyone from here right? Well unless it was some kind of memory from the original body or something.
Thinking of that, it actually made a bit more sense, since the original had come here, it means he must have known, so..... easy then.
Suddenly, someone bumped into Lusborn through all the chaos, clutching onto him to steady his fall.
Lusborn looked over only to see it was an old, let's say old middle aged dude, reacting quickly, he held him firm.
If he had been a normal person, he would have been sent crashing down with the old man's momentum, but his enhanced body reacted instinctively, allowing him to remain standing as he firmly held the man in place.
The old man's frail hands gripped Lusborn's arms tightly, his breathing ragged and panicked, "Young man, you better run." was all the old man said.
But at this moment, a sudden and overwhelming sense of hunger consumed Lusborn.
It was unlike anything he had ever felt before—deep, primal, and insatiable. It clawed at his insides like an unbearable void, as if something essential to his very existence was missing.
A sharp thirst followed almost immediately, a dryness so intense it felt as though his throat had never known moisture.
Then, something strange happened—his vision changed.
He could see it. The blood.
Coursing through the old man's veins, a mesmerizing river of crimson just beneath his pale, wrinkled skin.
It pulsed in perfect rhythm, each beat of the man's heart echoing in Lusborn's ears like an irresistible melody.
His senses honed in on the old man's jugular, and his mind screamed for him to act.
His grip on the old man's arm tightened involuntarily, preventing any chance of escape. His breath grew heavier, and without realizing it, his body began to change.
His face contorted. His skin darkened around his eyes. His canines elongated, razor-sharp and eager to sink into flesh. His fingers twitched as claw-like nails began to form.
He was becoming something else—something monstrous.
And the worst part? He didn't want to stop it. Every fiber of his being demanded he take what was right in front of him.
One bite, and this agonizing hunger would be gone.
Just one bite and all this mesmerizing crimson blood would all be his. Just one bite. Just one.
The old man, oblivious at first, suddenly noticed the unnatural transformation in Lusborn.
His breath hitched as his wide, terrified eyes locked onto the nightmare forming before him. He tried to pull away in panic, but Lusborn's grip was unyielding.
The man's heart pounded erratically, fear overtaking him.
But before Lusborn could succumb to his instincts, an explosion shattered the moment.
A red-and-gold blur shot past them at blinding speed, obliterating a hostile robot that had been closing in on their position.
The impact sent shockwaves through the area, knocking debris and dust into the air.
Also snapping Lusborn out of his trance, his monstrous features retreating rapidly as his mind reasserted control over his body.
He inhaled sharply, stepping back as he released the old man, who stumbled away in horror, fainting the next second.
Lusborn couldn't believe that he was really about to do something so stupid, something so monstrous.
He hadn't, even for a second thought of the downsides of this transformation.
All he had done was just go with the flow, even when he had just had a close call with the hulk, he hadnt thought through the next transformation.
Is this because he was foolish or just a mistake.
I mean, his mistake almost cost the life of another person, because he was sure if he had started sucking the old man's blood, he wouldn't have managed to stop in time.
Then at this moment, a familiar, charismatic voice rang out through the chaos, snapping Lusborn out of his reverie, again.
"Hey, get pops the fuck out of here!"
Lusborn turned, his heart nearly stopping as his eyes landed on the source of the voice.
A sleek, armored figure hovered just above the battlefield, repulsors glowing at his palms.
And no matter where or when it was, he could never mistake this one figure for anyone else, and only one name came to his mind.
Iron Man.
Lusborn felt a chill crawl down his spine as reality crashed over him like a tidal wave. He wasn't just in some random futuristic world.
He wasn't just in another world.
He was in the Marvel Universe.
And judging by the scene before him—the crumbling expo building, the destroyed Hammer drones, and the infamous red-and-gold armored hero in mid-battle—he knew exactly when and where he was.
This was Tony Stark's battle against Ivan Vanko in Iron Man 2.
Marvel.
The thought echoed in his mind like a death sentence, yet all his brain came out with was, "I knew it."
But seriously, of all the places he could have ended up, why did it have to be here? This world was dangerous.
Gods, monsters, aliens, and cosmic horrors lurked in every shadow.
And he, Lusborn, was a nobody with a power he barely understood, in a world where people like him either got trampled by the strong or were used as pawns by the powerful.
Panic and disbelief clashed within him. He had spent years watching Marvel movies, reading comics, analyzing every character and event.
He had also done a lot of stunts for this very movie, mostly for hulk and Thor but also some others.
And now, he was standing in the middle of it all. A world where a certain purple madman existed.
Where the Snap could happen. Where beings capable of tearing planets apart roamed free.
He didn't like this. Not one bit.
"Fuck. I can't believe am in one of these things," he muttered.
The moment Lusborn realized this, he immediately curbed down his hunger since he didn't want to make a scene of him sucking blood, as this would attract a lot of attention—something he didn't need right now.
He took a deep breath, steadying himself, forcing the unnatural thirst to the back of his mind.
His heart pounded, not from fear but from the sheer weight of the realization settling in his mind.
All he wanted now was to make his body strong enough to transform into the truly overpowered creatures—the likes of the Hulk, Dracula, Godzilla, and all those ultimate beings of destruction and power.
Maybe even Superman. Since his X-Gene allowed him to transform into any organism that wasn't human, then, theoretically, he should be able to turn into a Kryptonian, right?
That would be way too cool, now wouldn't it? Shooting lasers from his eyes, flying across the sky at supersonic speeds, becoming nearly invulnerable—just thinking about it made him excited.
If that was possible, then maybe, just maybe, he stood a chance of surviving in this world.
But that was for later. Right now, he had to get the hell out of here before shit hit the fan.
His eyes darted around the battlefield.
Explosions went off in the distance. Iron Man zipped through the air, blasting through the swarm of hostile drones.
The police were engaged in an intense firefight, trying their best to contain the chaos, but it was clear they were outmatched.
Civilians scrambled in every direction, seeking shelter, tripping over each other in their desperate attempts to flee.
The old man he had nearly attacked was already down, he had probably gotten a heart attack from what he saw.
Lusborn clenched his fists.
He needed to disappear before anyone—especially someone like Iron Man—noticed him.
And more importantly, if his X-Gene had awakened, then that automatically meant that mutants existed in this world.
That thought alone sent a shiver down his spine. With his awakening, the bald dude, using Cerebro, would likely be able to locate him.
And where there was Charles Xavier, there was also Magneto and the brotherhood.
He really didn't want to deal with either of them right now.
It was unlikely that they would ignore him, either.
If they found out about his ability—an X-Gene that allowed him to transform into any known or unknown creature, instantly at that—he would undoubtedly be considered a high-level mutant.
No, scratch that. He wasn't just some high-level mutant.
His ability was outright broken. If he could turn into the Phoenix right now… well, provided his body could take it, but that would be some serious shit.
That meant one thing—his mutation was likely Omega-level or even more.
And that was something neither the X-Men nor the Brotherhood could afford to ignore.
But most terrifying is that Stryker guy. The dude had a way of ever finding mutants, and Lusborn didn't even want to think of what would happen if he was captured.
And although his ability was quite overpowered if he could increase his physique, those guys always had mutant inhibitors.
He wouldn't be able to even fight, and then he would be taken to some lab somewhere and experimented on for how long God knows.
He didn't want that happening, he didn't get a second chance just so he could become a lab rat.
That is why he had to get stronger, really strong that he didn't have to rely on his x-gene.
Good thing is his gene could easily allow him gain other super overpowered powers.
Anyway he wasn't ready for any of that right now.
So he needed to disappear. Fast.
Lusborn nodded at Iron Man, acknowledging the unintentional favor.
Without wasting another second, he bent down and scooped up the old man who had, at some point, lost consciousness.
The frail yet slightly oversized body slumped over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, but even with the additional weight, Lusborn felt no strain.
His newfound strength made the task effortless, though he still moved with caution, careful not to crush the man's ribs under his grip.
Despite the chaotic battlefield surrounding him—robots engaging the authorities, explosions rattling the air, and debris falling from the crumbling structure—Lusborn kept his focus.
His primary objective was to get as far away from this mess as possible before the inevitable happened.
He could already feel the strain on his body creeping in, the transformation's hold on his body beginning to weaken.
He estimated that he had only a couple more minutes before his body rejected Morbius' physiology entirely, reverting him back to his normal human state.
And once that happened, he would be left vulnerable, powerless.
So he ran.
At first, he held back, uncertain of the limits of his new abilities.
But even at a restrained pace, he was still significantly faster than any normal human.
His enhanced reflexes and agility allowed him to weave through the chaos effortlessly, avoiding falling debris, dodging stray energy blasts, and steering clear of the relentless robotic onslaught.
The last thing he wanted was to get caught up in another unnecessary confrontation, especially with time not on his side.
As he neared the edges of the battle zone, Lusborn spotted the distinct flashing red and blue lights of an ambulance parked near an emergency aid station.
Medical personnel scrambled back and forth, treating the wounded as best as they could given the dire circumstances.
Without slowing down too much, Lusborn reached the nearest paramedic—a young woman who looked barely out of med school—and carefully set the old man down in front of her.
The motion was so smooth and controlled that it was almost as if Lusborn had been trained to handle delicate cargo.
"Take care of him," Lusborn said gruffly, keeping his head low.
The woman, initially startled by the sudden appearance of a man hauling an unconscious old man through a war zone, opened her mouth to respond.
But then as if on instinct, she first turned to check on the old man's condition.
But before she could ask a single question, Lusborn vanished into the shadows, disappearing into the cityscape before anyone could follow.
He didn't want to be asked tones of questions he wasn't willing to answer, plus he was time bad.
By the time the paramedic turned around to get another look at him, he was gone.
...
Pliz dear readers, this kind of ability I gave him has lots and lots of shit that he can use to grow stronger.
And obviously I cant think of all of them, I might even think of some stupid shit so, that's why I will need yo help.
I need ideas from you guys, I have already received some and it has really enlightened me, so, it would be better if I received more.
Thanx.
....
Also pliz support my other works, I need help with that too. Still new in this thing so.... will need u guys.