The air was heavy with dust, and the ceiling fan spun lazily overhead in the small Brooklyn apartment. Rai jolted upright in bed, drenched in sweat. His heart pounded in his chest like a war drum. This isn't right... this isn't my world.
The memories were disjointed at first. A car crash. A bright light. Then... darkness. But as the fog lifted, realization dawned with terrifying clarity.
This was Earth. But not his Earth.
He flicked on the television and stared in disbelief as the familiar logo of Oscorp Industries flashed across the screen during a news segment. Stark Industries came next, and his blood ran cold.
"This is the MCU," he muttered. "I've been reborn in the Marvel Cinematic Universe…"
He was 18 again—young, strong, and alone. A thick envelope sat on the desk nearby, filled with legal documents: his parents had died two years ago. The insurance payout had been significant, and he had no remaining family. Just enough money to survive comfortably—if he was careful.
But surviving wasn't enough.
That night, the dreams began. Not ordinary dreams—but visions. A voice called to him through a dark void, ancient and powerful.
[Madara System Activated]
The words appeared in his mind like code on a computer screen. Then came the searing pain, like liquid fire through his veins. He screamed. And when it was over, a strange calm settled over him.
A scroll appeared before him, impossibly real.
Ninja Training Manual Unlocked
Kekkei Genkai Spin – Result: Sharingan (1% chance hit)
His breath caught.
"Sharingan…?" he whispered.
No techniques. No instant strength. No shortcuts. Only the manual and the knowledge that he now possessed chakra and the potential to become something more.
The Next Few Weeks
Rai secluded himself in the apartment. He read the scrolls like his life depended on it—and it did. He began meditating daily, following the instructions to awaken and mold chakra. It was agonizing at first—like trying to move a muscle that had never existed.
But he was persistent. Morning to night, he practiced chakra control, balancing leaves, focusing his mind, building stamina. He moved to the park at night, performing basic exercises where no one could see. His hands became calloused, his body leaner, sharper.
In the second month, he unlocked the Clone Jutsu. It was imperfect—flickering shadows at best. But it was a start.
Then came Transformation and Substitution. He practiced tirelessly, creating disguises, slipping out of his apartment unnoticed.
The Birth of a Goal
One night, on a walk back from late training in the alleys, he witnessed a mugging in progress—three men, a terrified woman, a knife. Instinct took over.
He disguised himself with Transformation, his face now older and unfamiliar. With two kunai he'd crafted from kitchen knives, he descended on the muggers like a phantom. One strike to the temple, another to the throat. Precise. Clean. The third ran.
The woman would say later that her attacker's eyes had turned red before he vanished into the night.
The Red-Eyed Devil Is Born
Rai stared at himself in the mirror, hands trembling. His Sharingan had flared for a moment—just one tomoe, but real. He had felt it. The surge of clarity, the heightened perception.
"I won't be a hero. I'm not wearing a cape," he told himself. "But I will bring fear to the darkness."
He spent the rest of 2004 laying low by day and training harder by night. He designed a mask. He drew inspiration from Madara Uchiha's armor—creating blueprints. The first version would be aesthetic, makeshift. But it was enough for now.
Soon, the whispers began on the streets.
"There's someone out there."
"He doesn't save. He punishes."
"His eyes… they're red."
They called him the Red-Eyed Devil.
And Rai smiled in the shadows.