Capítulo 3: Is not so Marvelous
As Niklaus decided to walk out of the house, he slipped into a hoodie he'd found in his uncle's wardrobe.
The fit was surprisingly decent, though it felt tainted by the memories of its previous owner.
He couldn't shake the unsettling feeling gnawing at him considering what his "uncle" was.
The old computer in the corner of the room must have something that he should check just in case.
Driven by a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, he decided to investigate.
"Let's see what secrets you were hiding, old man," he muttered to himself as he sat down at the desk and powered up the ancient looking computer. It groaned to life, the screen flickering before revealing a cluttered, outdated desktop.
Niklaus navigated through the disorganized files, his pulse quickening as he zeroed in on a hidden folder that looked out of place.
The folder opened to reveal a series of disturbing images.
His heart sank as the screen filled with photos of young boys—his age or maybe younger— in various states that he felt sick describing.
They were shackled, bound, and placed in horrifying positions.
The graphic nature of the images left him feeling sick to his stomach.
"Jesus fucking Christ," Niklaus whispered, his voice barely audible.
The sight was almost too much to bear.
He could barely process what he was seeing, the gravity of his uncle's actions crashing down on him like a tidal wave.
The casual, almost flippant attitude he had been trying to maintain evaporated.
He wasn't just a single unfortunate soul—he was part of a grim pattern one he was lucky enough to escape.
Anger flared inside him, a raw, searing rage that threatened to overwhelm him.
He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "What a fucking monster," he growled, his voice cracking under the strain of his fury.
His mind reeled with the horrific realization that he had narrowly escaped becoming one of those images.
The sense of disgust was almost unbearable.
Amidst the storm of emotions, there was a grim satisfaction.
He had gained his powers and memories just in time, giving him a chance to break free and fight back.
He felt a surge of determination to make sure no one else would have to endure what he had seen.
With a deep, shuddering breath, Niklaus pushed back from the desk, his mind reeling.
The images clung to him like a nightmare he couldn't escape.
As he left the house, the weight of what he had seen pressed heavily on him.
---
Niklaus sat in the corner booth of a dingy diner, a burger halfway to his mouth, feeling pretty damn good about himself.
Just a little while ago, he had been riding high, mentally bragging about how life had handed him the keys to the castle.
Powers beyond imagination, a second shot at life—he was ready to do whatever the hell he wanted.
No one could stop him.
Then his eyes fell on the newspaper lying next to his plate, and his world tilted.
His jaw hung open as he stared at the date on the front page—1995.
That was weird enough, but it was the headline that knocked him out of his self-satisfied haze.
"New Leader of Stark Industries," it read, with a smug picture of Obadiah Stane underneath.
The article detailed how Stane had officially taken over after the death of Howard Stark four years ago.
Niklaus froze. "Stane… Stark..." he muttered, his brain stumbling over the familiar names.
The burger slipped from his fingers as reality started to sink in.
"No way…" he whispered.
He looked around the diner as if expecting someone to jump out and shout, "Gotcha!"
But there was nothing.
Just the hum of conversation and the sizzle of the grill.
The world kept spinning while Niklaus tried to catch up.
He rubbed his temples. 'I'm in the Marvel universe,'he realized, feeling like the ground had been yanked out from under him.
Just moments ago, he was thinking he could conquer this world, but now... now he knew better.
This wasn't just any world.
This was a world full of gods, monsters, and things far beyond his control.
And him? He was just some rando with barely any beoken powers and zero idea of how to navigate any of this.
His stomach churned as he stared at the newspaper. 'Obadiah Stane... This is the 90s... Tony Stark's not Iron Man yet. Hell, he's probably just a spoiled brat right now.'
Niklaus thought to himself, his mind spinning.
He could barely focus on the delicious burger in front of him.
Then, another realization hit him, causing his pulse to spike.
"1995..." he mumbled, eyes widening as it all clicked together.
"Captain Marvel," he said out loud, the name hanging in the air like a punch to the gut.
This was the year Carol Danvers came crashing back to Earth, along with a massive intergalactic mess.
Niklaus slumped back in the booth, suddenly feeling the weight of the situation.
'I was so busy thinking I could do whatever I wanted… now I realize I'm in some marvelously deep shit.'
All that bravado from earlier drained out of him, replaced by a cold reality check.
He wasn't just dealing with run-of-the-mill criminals or petty problems. This world had super-soldiers, gods, and aliens. And now, so did he.
He picked up his burger again, chewing slowly, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts.
"Okay,"he mumbled through a mouthful of food.
'I've got powers. Real powers. But what the hell am I supposed to do with them in this madhouse?"
His eyes flicked to the newspaper again. Stark Industries, S.H.I.E.L.D., Nick Fury… everything was about to kick off, and he was in a positon to make use of it.
Great. Just great.
Marvelous even.
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