章 1: Chapter 1.
20+ chapters on P@treon.com/LordCampione.
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I woke up in a different world. You can't imagine what it's like to lose everything—everything that once meant something. The kind-hearted girl, the sweet games, the amazing food, my wonderful friends, the adorable pets, and yes, even the slightly racist grandma—they were all gone.
How did it happen?
I wasn't just walking home; I was free-running, leaping from rooftop to rooftop with the reckless abandon of a novice. I wasn't a pro, but I had some skill. My inspiration? Batman, of course. His willpower and persistence have always struck a chord with me, even if his feats sometimes seem larger than life. And then there's Saitama, the embodiment of raw power and determination. These were the people who pushed me to test my limits.
I'm a fan of superheroes who push the boundaries of human capability. Sure, I admire Superman, but there's something special about the human spirit that can achieve greatness through sheer effort. Spider-Man, despite his superpowers, worked tirelessly to become who he is. And Tony Stark? The epitome of human ingenuity and resilience.
Back to my untimely demise: I couldn't be Batman, not with my limited resources. I was smart, but I knew that money makes the world go round. Instead, I focused on keeping my body in peak condition. Transhumanism intrigued me, but I wasn't a radical. I wasn't about to implant anything my body might reject. I carefully chose enhancements that made sense, blending physical and mental training.
After reading "The Singularity Is Near" by Ray Kurzweil, I honed in on what I wanted from life. Meditation, binaural beats, chess, and exercise kept my mind and body sharp. It was during this journey that I experienced a profound self-realization—a beautiful, terrifying revelation of my own existence.
So, why am I telling you this? It's all part of how I ended up in this new world.
There I was, free-running home, feeling the wind against my face and the fresh night air in my lungs. Then I saw the strangest cloud—red, purple, yellow, and orange, crackling with lightning. The next thing I knew, a bolt of that orange lightning struck me.
I knew I had died when I felt no connection to my body, only saw a charred corpse that I presumed was mine. I hovered outside my body, watching in helpless dread. My first thought was of my grandparents, who had raised me. I had promised to make them live like royalty, but now, where was that immortality I had sought?
Determined not to let my spirit unravel, I focused on my existence. Suddenly, I was pulled into a swirling wormhole. My spirit dispersed, and I realized I had forgotten some important connections. I tried to reconnect with my sense of self, and amidst the chaos, I found a tiny, warm ball of light. Instinctively, I knew this light was essential for my weary soul. I approached it and enveloped it with my spirit. Assimilating it was arduous and tedious, but each piece brought me a sense of peace.
Despite the grim realization that I had taken a life, I had no regrets. It was survival—either I persisted or succumbed. I fought, and I won.
In that timeless void between existence and non-existence, I found a fleeting peace. Time was meaningless here—just a stretch of sleep and awareness.
When I was reborn, I was overwhelmed by a blur of light, shapes, and sounds. I screamed, heard distant voices, and felt myself being passed around. Then came the comforting embrace of the people who would become my new parents. Their warmth and love were a welcome contrast to the void I had known.
And that, kids, is how I ended up in a different world.
...
It's been a month since my birth, and my mother is truly angelic. With her likely Puerto Rican heritage and my father's probable African American roots, I feel I've been born into a world with a rich tapestry of cultures.
I'm starting to notice things that weren't part of my previous life—like Stark Industries and H.A.M.M.E.R. Industries, along with phrases and words straight out of movies. The realization hit me hard when Uncle Aaron Davis—aka the Prowler—came to visit. There was no more denying it: I am Miles Morales. The weight of it all came crashing down with anticipation, quickly followed by the fear of Kree, Skrull, and Chitauri invasions, the Civil Wars, Captain Hydra, and Thanos's devastation.
Determined to figure out which universe I'm in, I remember that Tony Stark reveals his identity as Iron Man on May 2, 2008, and the Hulk makes his debut in June of the same year. Deviations from this timeline might occur, so I'll need to stay vigilant.
As a baby, I'm developing at an unusually fast rate. My hearing and vision are more advanced than a typical infant's, and I have a lightning-shaped birthmark on my arm. It seems the lightning that caused my rebirth has influenced my soul, affecting my mind and body.
Being a baby again is frustrating. The boredom is unbearable. I find myself laughing when interacted with, relishing the human connection. Since I can't yet exercise my body, I'm focusing on mental training. I've been practicing basic arithmetic and simultaneous counting to enhance my cognitive abilities and multitasking skills. Today, I managed to multiply from 1 to 100 while counting—definitely a sign of a budding genius.
Meditation has been crucial. It saved me after death and facilitated my rebirth into this Marvel universe. There's something peculiar here—perhaps it's magic, chi, or exotic energies interacting with matter. Whenever I meditate, I feel a warm sensation in my abdomen. It's not due to any typical baby functions; it seems to be a form of energy slowly accumulating in that area.
I'm trying to manipulate this energy, envisioning it as a small orange orb, rotating and compressing to draw more energy. It's challenging, but I'm making progress. I suspect this energy might be similar to Iron Fist's chi or even the Venom Strike.
Despite my situation, I can't help but think about the fictional nature of my existence. Is my life just a story for someone on the internet? I hope not. The thought of facing oblivion and helplessness again is repugnant. My goal is to transcend human limitations, becoming a prime example of what humans can achieve through science, magic, and persistent hard work.
What do I know about Miles Morales's future? He wasn't extensively featured in the MCU, but his uncle appears in "Spider-Man: Homecoming." According to the comics, Miles becomes Spider-Man at age 13, suggesting the year is around 2004. That gives me four years until Tony Stark's public revelation.
Miles's father and uncle were involved in crime and briefly worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. Miles has a set of spider powers, including the Venom Strike, bioelectric threads, and camouflage. These abilities will be invaluable for creating my web shooters and stealth tactics.
Norman Osborn's use of the Oz formula for gene-altered spiders might grant immortality, but if my uncle doesn't become the Prowler, I'll need to get my spider from Oscorp. I refuse to be an average Joe in the Marvel universe.
I plan to avoid sharing the Spider-Man moniker. I'll come up with a new name once I'm in action. My entry-level plan for immortality and power includes:
1. **Training Intensely:** Channeling my inner Bruce Wayne and Saitama, focusing on both mental and physical training. I'll also study self-defense and martial arts. By age 16, I'll tackle college-level books and enjoy Marvel's genius-level standards.
2. **Acquiring Powers:** I'll shadow Peter Parker during his school expedition where he gets bitten by the spider. When he draws attention, I'll stealthily grab the spider and let it bite me. This will enhance my existing spider abilities and integrate with my lightning-augmented physiology.
3. **Extremis:** This is my ultimate goal. I look forward to the power and enhancements it promises.
For now, I'll continue my mental exercises and strategize my path to greatness.
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