Dying was easy.
Too quick, even. A dumb slip in the bathroom, a badly placed outlet, my laptop plugged in, and me naked on the floor. Zero dignity. I'm pretty sure my soul didn't even get the chance to ascend — it went straight to the afterlife's tech support.
When I opened my eyes, I was in a room that was way too white to be a hospital and way too fancy to be heaven. It smelled like clean metal and breakroom coffee. In front of me was a woman in a gray suit, high heels, and a perfect bun, smiling like she was about to offer me a credit card with cashback rewards.
"Welcome to the Company", she said, in a voice that sounded AI-generated. "Congratulations! You've been selected for a new life opportunity in another world."
Took me a second to process. New life? Another world? Was this… an isekai?
"You'll have access to our Premium Reincarnation System. You get to build your character, pick talents, choose defenses, powers, even companions, if you like. Your destination is the Marvel universe."
Now we're talking. My brain lit up, my heart raced, and my inner nerd died again — this time from existential excitement.
The system popped up in front of me, a holographic interface with my name at the top: Aidan Quinn. Below it, a glorious number: 955 credits. That was my budget to build my new self. I was basically a deluxe RPG character.
I started slow, but with confidence.
First: [Body Tune-Up]. No acne, no headaches, no lazy guts, and no pimples in awkward places. My new body was gonna be sculpted, healthy, and efficient — the kind that shows up shirtless in an anime and everyone sighs. Basic pick for a decent fresh start.
Next, the essentials: [Athletic] and [Martial]. I wanted to be good at movement of all kinds — parkour, wrestling, sword fighting, or dramatic explosions-in-the-background escape scenes. If the world was dangerous, I'd be the agile main character who never trips while running backward.
[Communication] came right after. Knowing what to say and when to say it is an underrated superpower. I wanted to be able to flirt, manipulate, or calm down a walking time bomb with just the right words. And also… yeah, drop some smooth lines on any waifu I crossed paths with without sounding like a total clown.
[Soul] was a personal choice. I've always been fascinated by magic, spiritual energy, chi — all that good stuff. If there was even a chance to Kamehameha someone Marvel-style, I wanted in.
[Covert] was a bonus. A guy who can vanish in chaos is a guy who lives. Stealing? Spying? Infiltrating? Maybe I'd never need it… but it felt good knowing I could if it came to that.
[Psychic] was pricey, but worth every credit. Any mind or body-based supernatural ability — X-Gene stuff, psychic powers, heightened senses — I'd have a natural talent for learning and using them. Fit perfectly with what I was planning later.
Then came the part I knew I couldn't skip: Defenses.
I went for a combo that'd make me nearly immune to everything the universe might throw at me — poison, radiation, mind control, energy drain, random mutations, space-time weirdness, mental invasions, fate manipulation. Basically a spiritual antivirus with a cosmic firewall. I wanted to be free. I wanted to be untouchable. No one was gonna mess with me unless I let them.
Then… came the Templates.
I could pick characters from other worlds as power bases. That was the cherry on top, and I went straight for the throat.
First up: Satoru "Nah, I'd Win" Gojo. King of style, master of infinity, supermodel eyes, and techniques that break physics. The dude is literally untouchable under the right conditions.
And with Template Stacking II, I'd start with 60% of his full power — meaning Tier 5. Max potential? Tier 7.
Second: All For One. The ultimate power thief. Not because I planned on going around stealing everyone's powers, but because I wanted the option. That kind of power is survival insurance… and selective justice.
Because let's be honest — some people in this world deserve to lose what they've got. But I already knew: in the Marvel universe, there are no Quirks. I could only steal innate abilities — like mutant powers from the X-Gene. Peter Parker and Hulk? Off the table. They're science accidents. But Jean Grey? Magneto? Storm? On the menu.
Not that I planned to steal from any of them.
As I finished loading up on talents and stacking defenses like a paranoid survival freak, the interface flashed again. A new tab opened — General Perks.
Sounded like overpriced DLC, and… yeah, it kinda was. Extra perks. Stuff that wasn't about combat or powers but made life more convenient, more interesting — and in my case, spicier.
First pick, no hesitation: Sexual Calibration.
Yeah, the name's ridiculous.
But listen: this was a new world, with incredible women, cosmic-level danger, and teenage hormones set to berserk mode.
I wanted to make sure that when the inevitable happened — and it would happen, trust me— it'd go down flawlessly. No awkward sweat, no weird smells, no death-by-friction or grandpa-tier refractory periods. Just class. Premium performance.
Second choice came automatically: Fertility Calibration I.
No need to explain. Imagine knocking up an omega-level mutant by accident. Nope. I wanted full control.
When, how, with who, and if. And if I ever decided to fill the world with superpowered kids, it'd be because I chose to — not because I got caught with my pants down. Literally.
Then I took a one-way ticket to Quality-of-Life Paradise: Time-Savers.
This was lifestyle stuff. No more worrying about showers, clipping nails, hair growing mid-battle… all sorted. I'd be the guy who falls off a skyscraper, fights a Leviathan, gets up and still has perfect hair and minty breath. That's a real superpower. Oh — and never needing to use the bathroom again. Ever. The dream.
Keeping with the comfort theme, I grabbed Universal Calibration.
This one was key. The description said the system would ensure the world I landed in was "aligned with my personal preferences." In short? Every waifu I met would fall into my interest zone. Age, looks, personality—everything within my "attack range." No awkward moments. No "she's 15 but looks 25." Everything clean, legal, and morally airtight. As it should be.
A giant middle finger to the Multiversal FBI.
Next, I clicked something called Normality without even thinking.
The description was gold: "people in this world will just assume your life full of companions, powers, and absurd situations is… normal." I laughed out loud reading that. Seriously, imagine having a harem of mutants, witches, and aliens, and people just pat you on the back like "nice, bro." This was anti-judgment insurance. A social invisibility cloak for finger-pointers.
And finally… a special cherry on top.
I Want Out.
An emergency card. One portal. A golden ticket to another world, if I ever wanted to escape. A chance to start over if things got too crazy, if cosmic gods decided to delete me, or if I just got tired. I didn't plan to use it, but knowing I had it… made me feel calm. A save-and-quit button.
These perks didn't make me stronger. They wouldn't help me beat villains or heroes. But they made me more… me.
It was all about living well. Enjoying the ride.
Cracking jokes mid-gunfight, flirting with the villainess before beating her, cooking for waifus in secret hideouts and sleeping soundly knowing that even in the middle of chaos, I was clean, safe, and had fate in my pocket.
The interface vanished. The attendant smiled one last time.
And then… a new option popped up. A gold button labeled Companion.
I didn't hesitate.
I opened the list. Scrolled through. Each name came with a profile, powers, personality. But when I saw Raven, I stopped. Those eyes. That dark aura. That face that looked like she could kill with a stare and preferred solitude over human contact?
She was it.
The second I clicked to Buy, the room temperature dropped. The shadow to my left twisted and solidified. And there she was: Rachel Roth, arms crossed, bored expression, a faint purple shimmer clinging to her soul.
"You're the stupid master who bought me?", she asked.
I stepped forward and smiled.
"Depends. Want me to boss you around… or sit on the couch of destiny with me and watch the world burn over wine and sarcasm?"
She rolled her eyes.
I almost fell in love on the spot.
And then the attendant — the bank commercial lady — smiled one final time.
"You're all set. Your destination is the Marvel universe. Timeline: Battle of New York. Insertion point: ground level. Invasion in progress."
I grinned. Heart pounding.
This was it. My second life. My powers. My favorite moody goth girl at my side.
And a whole city getting wrecked by aliens.
Perfect.
The portal opened. Light swallowed me whole. Raven vanished in a shadow cloud beside me.
And I, Aidan Quinn — the perv, the chill guy, the talent thief and future chaos king — stepped headfirst into the biggest warzone in the multiverse with only one thought:
This is gonna be the best damn thing I've ever lived.
… Jean Grey
New York was on fire.
The sky looked like it had been torn open by divine hands, and a massive portal overhead was pouring out aliens in tight, coordinated swarms. The Chitauri weren't showing any mercy. The streets were covered in dust, screams, sirens, and the constant sound of explosions. And still, Jean didn't hesitate.
She'd woken up that morning thinking she had a literature class at the Institute. Maybe a light training session with the team afterward. Something in the Danger Room.
But the moment that portal opened — the call came. Professor X knew it was a chance. Not just to help people, but to show the world that mutants weren't monsters. That they were heroes too. Human, where it mattered.
Now, there she was, hovering above 45th Street with her mind buzzing from the tension. Her telekinesis was holding up chunks of a crumbling building, saving a family trapped in the rubble. Scott was nearby, firing optic blasts to hold off a squad of soldiers. Kurt jumped across rooftops like a shadowy blur of blue, rescuing civilians one by one.
And then Jean felt it.
Something weird. Like an inverted field. A calm bubble in the middle of chaos. Her eyes moved on their own, guided by her psychic gift — and there they were.
A boy and a girl.
Not in costume. Not Avengers. Not Chitauri. But they were… in the middle of the battle.
The girl — pale, with dark purple hair and eyes as empty as night — floated slightly off the ground, surrounded by a dark aura that looked like smoke and ink. Shadowy tendrils of energy extended from her, crushing alien soldiers with silent precision, like she was squashing soda cans. There was something unsettling about her. A deep sadness behind that bored expression. She killed with apathy. Like she was cleaning up a mess, not fighting.
And the boy…
Jean had to take a moment to believe what she was seeing.
He wasn't just fighting — he was enjoying it.
Jumping between cars and wreckage with impossible lightness. A smile on his face. His eyes glowing with a bluish energy, like the universe had stuffed galaxies into them. There was a field around his body that made Chitauri blasts just… stop in midair. One tried to sneak up behind him — and with just a casual flick of the wrist, like a stage performer, the alien was hurled across the street, body coming apart as it slammed into concrete.
Jean landed silently, still unnoticed by the pair. Her eyes narrowed, her mind barely open — just enough to feel something off.
His aura was… dense. Layered. Like something mystical, but dark. Negative. Dangerous. But not evil.
"Who are you…?", she whispered to herself as she realized she couldn't hear their thoughts.
The shadow girl seemed to sense something. She stopped moving and turned, her violet eyes locking onto Jean's — even from a distance.
The boy noticed her gaze, then turned as well — those glowing blue eyes finding Jean's.
And he smiled.
Not a relieved smile for find another hero's, not a villain's grin. Something else.
Pure charm.
The kind of smile that would make Rogue groan and Kitty roll her eyes. The kind of smile Jean absolutely wasn't expecting in the middle of an alien invasion.
"Yo~", he called out, waving like they were across from each other at a coffee shop. "You with the X-Men? 'Cause if so, go ahead and update the roster — we just added a sexy new recruit."
Jean blinked.
He was hitting on her. In the middle of a war.
Before she could reply, another group of Chitauri dropped down behind her. But before she had to react, the shadow girl — his partner — raised a hand. A blast of darkness swallowed the aliens in complete silence.
"You're an idiot", the girl said to the boy, totally emotionless.
"Hey, I thought we agreed on that!" he shot back.
Jean took a deep breath, staying composed even as her eyes tracked the strange boy walking toward her, that damn smile still on his face — way too casual for someone who just flattened a squad of aliens like it was nothing.
The girl beside him — that walking storm of shadow — was moving with her arms crossed like she couldn't be more bored. Her aura seemed to lick at the space around her, distorting light, sound… energy. Jean shivered near her, but it wasn't fear. It felt like the night itself had taken shape and was casually strolling alongside a guy who looked like he'd walked out of a badly dubbed anime with an overinflated ego.
"Stay sharp", came a voice from behind. Jean didn't need to turn to know it was Scott.
He walked up beside her, hand already hovering near his visor, ready to fire at the first sign of danger. His eyes were locked onto the boy — analyzing, judging. Classic Cyclops mode.
"They're allies", Jean said, trying to keep things from escalating. Though even she wasn't totally sure if that was true.
The boy stopped a few steps away. He was wearing regular clothes — worn-out jeans, a t-shirt with sunglasses-wearing Squirtle on it, a jacket torn at the shoulder. No costume. Nothing that said "I'm part of a team".
He looked… normal. Almost too normal, except for the glowing eyes and the weird field around him — like the air between him and the world was moving in slow-mo.
Jean noticed debris around him wasn't touching him. Dust seemed to avoid him. A chunk of rubble from a nearby explosion bounced off an invisible field and dropped harmlessly to the ground. Like the space around his body was saying no to the physical world.
It was like a force field… but way more specific. Way more intentional.
She wanted to figure it out. But she couldn't. She couldn't hear him. Couldn't reach his mind.
And that bugged her.
She could feel almost everyone. Their emotions, their pain, their fear. But him?
Nothing.
It was like looking at a perfectly carved hole in reality — smooth, no edges, no entry.
He held out a hand, like an old friend introducing himself.
"Aidan Quinn. Midtown High, sophomore. But today, temporarily upgraded to world-saver, alien-smasher, and future crush of a certain gorgeous telepathic redhead."
Jean looked at the offered hand, then at his face. He was still smiling. But it wasn't smug. It was sincere. Annoyingly sincere.
"Jean Grey", she said, not taking his hand. "X-Men."
"Pleasure's all mine. And this…" Aidan thumbed behind him. The shadow girl raised a single finger in the laziest wave.
"Raven. And before you ask — no, we're not villains. Yet."
"Yet~" Aidan echoed with a grin, clearly enjoying himself. "She talks like that to keep up the dark vibe. But inside? Just a girl who loves cats, books, and vaporizing existential demons."
Raven rolled her eyes.
"You're idiot."
"Again— we already agreed on that~", he said.
Scott cleared his throat, clearly impatient.
"You two are cracking jokes in the middle of a war?"
Aidan turned, flicked his hand — and a Chitauri soldier charging in got launched like he was hit by an invisible truck.
"I'm multitasking. You should try it, bro."
Scott took a step forward, hand on the side of his visor, clearly not amused.
Jean stepped in front of him, arm outstretched.
First, she didn't want to escalate things. Second… she wasn't sure even Scott's blasts would get through that weird barrier of his.
"He's not hostile", she said quietly. "But… he's not normal either."
"Perceptive", Aidan chimed in. "But I swear I'm local. Born and raised right here. The difference is… well, let's say I recently woke up. Got myself a little soul upgrade."
Jean studied him, eyes narrowed. She tried pushing for a mental read, any hint of a thought — but there was nothing. Just emptiness.
"You can't be read", she said more to herself than to him.
"I'm private on the inside", he said with a wink. "Some people have secrets. I have firewalls."
She smiled, despite herself.
More aliens started pouring in from the east side of the building. Aidan spun around and held out two fingers. The air rippled. Jean saw it — actually saw it for the first time — how the space in front of his fingers bent, warped in concentric circles.
He muttered something.
"Red."
A red burst exploded from his fingers, sending three Chitauri soldiers flying like a wall had just smacked them.
Jean's mouth fell open.
It wasn't energy. It wasn't matter. It was… a concept.
Force. Space. Pure repulsion.
"It's like the universe just said 'no'", she whispered.
"Exactly~" Aidan replied, like he heard her anyway.
Scott still didn't look convinced. But he didn't say anything.
Raven, on the other hand, extended her arm and pulled shadows from an alley, forming a living prison for two fallen soldiers. They screamed — and then fell silent.
"Do we keep helping?" Raven asked, deadpan.
Aidan sighed and looked back at her.
"Of course. Let's save the world, strike a cool pose for the cameras… and maybe afterward, chat with Miss Grey here about what she does when she's not lifting cars with her mind in skintight outfits."
Jean crossed her arms but couldn't stop the blush from creeping up her cheeks.
"If you survive the battle, maybe."
His smile widened.
"Challenge accepted."
And with that, the trio — the X-Man, the boy with impossible energy, and the shadow witch — rushed toward the next wave.
And for the first time that day, Jean didn't just feel fear or pressure.
She felt… curiosity.