Ryan Chen hated storms.
Not just the rain. Not just the thunder. The whole "sky wants to punch you" vibe? Yeah, no thanks.
He was already having the worst week - lost his wallet, missed three buses, and his boss had yelled at him for breathing too loudly. Now? He was speedrunning through a storm, soaked from head to toe, and one wrong move from getting flash-fried like a cheap fast-food meal.
Life couldn't get any worse, he thought.
Cue the biggest, nastiest lightning bolt he'd ever seen.
"Ah, sh-!"
BOOM.
Everything went white.
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When Ryan opened his eyes again, he wasn't dead.
But he sure felt like it.
Soft light. Warm air. He blinked up at a ceiling that looked suspiciously expensive. He tried to move - and immediately panicked.
His arms? Tiny. His legs? Short. His voice when he gasped?
Way too squeaky.
"Yo... what the hell-" Ryan started, then stopped. His own voice sounded like a five-year-old after eating a helium balloon.
Okay, okay, don't panic... maybe the lightning knocked some brain cells loose.
He tried to sit up, but his head throbbed hard, like a gorilla was doing a drum solo inside his skull. Ryan groaned and slapped both hands against his temples.
Flashes. Blurry images. Names. Faces.
He winced. Some woman's face floated through his mind. Dark hair, a kind smile. Maria... Stark?
Wait. Stark?
Before Ryan could untangle the headache that was now his brain, the door opened.
In walked a woman - the same woman from his flashes.
She knelt beside him, smiling warmly. Her touch was soft as she brushed some hair from his forehead.
"Are you feeling a little better, sweetheart?" she said.
Ryan froze. His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again like a broken vending machine.
"Wh-Who...?" he croaked.
She chuckled gently. "It's okay, sweetie. You're safe."
Safe? Yeah, tell that to the migraine trying to turn his brain into mashed potatoes.
Ryan stared at her like she'd just asked him to solve a math problem without a calculator. She felt familiar... like a half-remembered dream. But his memory was still scrambled eggs.
The name "Maria Stark" buzzed around in his mind like a fly that wouldn't die.
No way. No freakin' way. That name... Tony Stark's mom?
But that didn't make sense. This had to be some weird dream. Or he was dead. Or drunk. Or dead and drunk at the same time.
Ryan swallowed hard, feeling awkward. "Uh... sorry, but... who are you?"
The woman - Maria - smiled even bigger, like she'd been expecting that question.
"I'm your mom, sweetie."
Ryan blinked.
...Huh.
His brain did a full shutdown.
I have a mom now? A Stark mom? WHAT KIND OF DLC DID I UNLOCK?!
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A little later, another stranger barged into the room.
Tall dude. Slicked-back hair. That same cocky grin you wanted to both punch and respect at the same time.
"Hey, champ!" the man said, walking over and ruffling Ryan's hair like they were best bros.
Ryan flinched instinctively. (Hey, personal space, rich dude.)
The man laughed. "Still looking a little shell-shocked, huh? Don't worry, you'll bounce back. Strong genes and all."
Ryan just gave a weak nod, still trying to pretend he wasn't mentally screaming.
The flashes in his head were clearing up a little. The name Howard Stark surfaced.
Ryan squinted at him suspiciously.
Howard Stark. Tony Stark's dad. Genius. Billionaire. Bad at hugs.
If Howard Stark was here... and Maria Stark was "Mom"... then...
Oh God. I'm in the MCU.
The thought hit him like a second lightning bolt - minus the death part.
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Later that night, Ryan was lying in bed staring at the ceiling.
Trying very hard not to panic.
Trying even harder not to scream into the pillow.
His brain was racing. Mutants. Superheroes. Aliens. Snapping fingers. Giant purple dudes.
I'm gonna die.
He turned over and tried not to think about how fragile his tiny five year old body was. He was basically a chicken nugget in a world full of flamethrowers.
He sighed and brushed his hand against the bedside lamp.
ZAP.
"Ow-" he yelped softly, yanking his hand back.
It wasn't big. Barely a spark. Like getting a static shock from a doorknob.
But Ryan felt it.
A tiny, tiny pulse of electricity danced between his fingers for just a second before vanishing.
His eyes widened.
"...Guess I'm discount Pikachu now," he muttered.
Maybe it was small now, but he could feel it - a connection. Like the electricity was trying to say hi.
A weak, almost useless mutant ability?
Maybe.
A start?
Definitely.
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The next morning, the door swung open and a tiny figure strolled in.
An eight-year-old boy. Messy hair, smug grin, wearing a t-shirt that said "Future Genius" like he had personally invented the concept of flexing.
"Yo," the boy said. "You the new runt?"
Ryan blinked.
Tiny Tony Stark.
Tiny, smug, adorable Tony Stark.
Ryan stared at him like he'd seen Bigfoot doing taxes.
"Uh... hi," Ryan said weakly.
Tony walked over and plopped down next to him. "You look weird. Did Mom drop you on your head?"
Ryan's lips twitched. He almost laughed. This little gremlin really IS Tony.
"Nah," Ryan said, smirking. "I think God just rage-quit while making me."
Tony snorted. "Yeah, you sound broken."
Ryan laughed - a real, proper laugh. For the first time since waking up, the fear and confusion eased a little.
Maybe this life wasn't going to be so bad after all.
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[END OF CHAPTER 1]
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