Darkness. That was the last thing Alexander Reid remembered. The cold embrace of death had taken him swiftly—a car accident, he thought. It was quick. Painless, maybe. Or at least, he hoped it had been. He remembered the sudden screech of tires, the blaring horn, and the sickening crunch of metal. The brief sensation of his body being flung forward, weightless, before the brutal impact. Then, nothing. Just the void.
But then there was light. Blinding, searing light that pierced through the blackness. And pain. A deep, throbbing ache that pulsed through his entire body, from his chest down to his fingertips. The sensation of air filling his lungs once more was almost as painful as the light. His chest heaved, muscles straining as if he had been underwater for far too long, fighting for that first desperate breath.
His eyes snapped open, and he found himself lying on a soft bed in a dimly lit room. His breathing was erratic, chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to make sense of what was happening. He was supposed to be dead. He had accepted that. The finality of death had seemed so certain, yet here he was.
His hand gripped the bedsheet tightly, fingers digging into the fabric as he tried to ground himself. Slowly, he pushed himself up, his muscles feeling weak but functional. Each movement felt foreign, as though his body was both his own and someone else's. He flexed his fingers, feeling the warmth of life flowing through them. It was both familiar and alien.
He looked around the room. It was unfamiliar. Sleek, modern furniture filled the space, giving it an air of wealth and sophistication. Dark mahogany shelves lined one wall, filled with books and a few decorative artifacts. A large window dominated the opposite wall, overlooking a city skyline that was both familiar and... different.
New York?
Alexander blinked, his mind racing to catch up with his senses. He had lived in New York before, but this view felt like it belonged to a movie set. The towering buildings, the iconic skyline—something was off. He rubbed his temples, trying to piece together the fragments of his memory. He had been an office worker. Just an ordinary man grinding through life. He had liked movies, especially Marvel movies. He had enjoyed watching Iron Man, Captain America, and the Avengers save the world on the big screen. It had been his escape from the monotony of his nine-to-five life.
His heart skipped a beat.
No. It couldn't be.
He stumbled to the window, legs shaky but driven by a surge of adrenaline. Pressing his hands against the cool glass, he peered outside. His breath caught in his throat. Stark Tower. The iconic building stood tall in the distance, its gleaming letters spelling out a name that should have been confined to fiction. The structure was unmistakable, a beacon in the heart of the city.
"This... this can't be real," Alexander whispered, his voice trembling.
But it was. Somehow, he had been reborn into the Marvel Universe. A world of gods, monsters, and heroes. A world that was both exhilarating and terrifying. His pulse quickened, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through his veins. He pressed his forehead against the glass, eyes wide with disbelief. His mind struggled to grasp the enormity of his situation. He had admired this world from the safety of a cinema seat. Now, he was living in it.
Suddenly, a sharp pain stabbed through his skull. He clutched his head as memories that were not his own flooded his mind. He dropped to his knees, gasping as flashes of a different life overwhelmed him. A boy, standing beside his parents. Their smiles warm and comforting. Then, a car spinning out of control. Screams. The sickening crunch of metal. The lifeless eyes of his mother staring back at him. Then a funeral. Faces blurred by grief. Lawyers handing him documents. Inheriting wealth far beyond what he could comprehend. Growing up alone in this very apartment, surrounded by luxury but suffocated by loneliness.
Tears welled in his eyes. The pain subsided, but the ache in his heart lingered. He was Alexander Reid, but also someone else. Two lives intertwined. He felt the sorrow of a boy who had lost everything, and the resignation of a man who had died unfulfilled. The weight of both lives pressed heavily upon him, merging into one shared existence.
Panic surged through him, but it was quickly tempered by something else—a voice. No, not a voice. A notification.
[Welcome to the Shadow Monarch System.]
He froze.
Words hovered before his eyes, glowing faintly in the air like a holographic display. He blinked, but they remained. The text was crisp and clear, defying all logic and reason. It was like something straight out of a game or a novel.
[Initializing Host...]
[Host Successfully Bound.]
[Welcome, Reincarnator. You have been chosen to inherit the power of the Shadow Monarch.]
His mind reeled. This was too much. Marvel Universe? Shadow Monarch System? He had read stories like this before, but experiencing it was something else entirely. The concept of being transported to another world was familiar to him, but it had always been fiction—a fantasy to escape reality. Now, it was his reality.
[Would you like to view your status?]
His hand trembled as he extended it toward the floating prompt. "Yes," he whispered, voice barely audible.
[Name: Alexander Reid] [Level: 1] [Title: None] [Class: Shadow Monarch] [HP: 100/100] [MP: 50/50] [Strength: 10] [Agility: 10] [Intelligence: 10] [Endurance: 10] [Skills: Shadow Extraction (Locked), Shadow Storage (Locked), Monarch's Domain (Locked)]
He exhaled slowly, his eyes scanning the information. This was real. He had a system. And not just any system. The Shadow Monarch System—the power of Sung Jin-Woo from Solo Leveling. The power to command an army of shadows, to grow stronger by defeating enemies and turning them into his servants. The implications were staggering.
Excitement warred with fear within him. This power was incredible, but he was in a world where threats like Thanos, Ultron, and Loki existed. A world where a single mistake could mean death. The movies had glossed over the true horrors of this universe. The destruction, the loss of innocent lives—it was all real now.
He needed to be careful. He needed to grow stronger.
He glanced back at the view of Stark Tower. If this was the beginning, then it was 2008. The year Tony Stark became Iron Man. The starting point of everything. He could remember the scenes from the movie so vividly. The kidnapping in Afghanistan, the creation of the first suit, the revelation that changed the world. He was at the very start of it all.
He clenched his fists, determination hardening his resolve. He had an advantage—knowledge. He knew the future, at least the major events. He could prepare. He could survive. He would not be a bystander in this world.
And maybe, just maybe, he could become something more. Not just a survivor, but a power that even the Avengers would come to respect. He would carve his own path, one step at a time.
He turned back to the system window and took a deep breath. His heart was still racing, but now it was with purpose.
"Let's begin."
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