My life flashed before my eyes. The cold metal of the truck's fender snapped my brain loose from my skull.
Then it was all black.
I stood, or well, floated above an endless void.
For a long time, it was just me…
…
Then he was there.
Made of pure light, his uncanny humanoid form stared at me.
"Hello?" I asked, my voice ethereal.
"Hello my child." It replied.
"Where are we?"
"Currently nowhere and everywhere — but not for long… I have a gift for you."
A gift?
"Yes, three to be precise."
"I see… what are they?"
The being smiled, "A second chance, Convenience, and Power."
"Why?"
The being chuckled, shrugging its shoulders of pure light.
"Why not? Don't worry my sweet child, all will be explained when you awaken."
Awaken? But i'm already —
I shot upright pushing my blankets off of me. I looked around in utter confusion to see a familiar bedroom. Yet I couldn't help but furrow my brows as an unsettling foreignness fluttered through my chest.
I recognized the cheap paint cracking walls I had worked so hard for. The tiny apartment the fruits of months of late-night pizza deliveries — yet, at the same time it wasn't my room.
I… I fucking reincarnated.
My mind throbbed as a deluge of memories tore across my consciousness. I felt like I had awoken from a dream within a dream.
The sort of dream that leaves you questioning whether anything is real, but in this case, it was all too real.
I had dreamed of another world, a boring world to say the least — eerily similar to my current reality, but with glaring difference.
This current reality, the one I awoke to, was nothing more than a fictional story in my other life.
"hah…" I couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. I had been transmitigated into the Marvel Universe, and not only that, but into some unknown teenager baring my name.
Riven, Riven Thorne.
A nobody — broke, barely scraping by with no relatives or family to rely on. Another victim of the incessant crime and villainy in this world's version of New York. My parents had been mugged, shot, and killed in some unknown alley like it was your average Tuesday event. A classic tragic backstory, except, in this case, it was MY tragedy and the pain was also, all too real.
Color me surprised that the government didn't bat an eye at leaving a fourteen year old boy to fend for himself. It was an effort of sheer fucking will that I was able to get a job and an apartment. Mostly through selling off everything my parents left me.
We used to have a two bedroom, two and a half bath apartment in a nice part of the city, yet I realized pretty quickly that I wouldn't be able to afford the absurd rent.
I sold it all, took the money, and moved to a shittier apartment in Jackson Heights. The cliff-drop in quality of life was steep to say the least, as I now never left home without a knife tucked in my pants, and never at night.
…
I swung my legs over my bed, feeling the cool worn wooden floor below me. I cradled my head, trying to wrap my mind around it all. My dual memories slowly settled together, fusing both me's into a single entity.
And then I remembered that not only did I die…
But I had met God, the One Above All? A Rob? Stan Lee? Who fucking knew, but the important part was what it said to me before I awoke.
My gifts…
As if just thinking about them was the trigger, a pulse of knowledge fluttered over me sending a shiver dow my spine and an eerie smile to my face.
I started laughing, cackling even, loud enough that my neighbor knocked on our shared wall to tell me to shut up.
I couldn't help it.
It was every readers dream; a transmitigator's golden finger.
If I ever saw God again I'd have to kiss them.
For not only have they given me a second chance — which, by the way also means I have some degree of 'foresight' of the events to come.
But also two more gifts Convenience and Power.
Convenience was truly aptly named — though perhaps a better name for it was Spatial Storage.
I had been granted an insane boon, the ability to store and retrieve anything into a separate dimension by touch. Both Living (Unconscious) & Dead — anything that I stored would be placed into a state of suspension, as time didn't flow in my storage dimension.
My mind raced at the sheer possibilities the ability provided, a Cheshire smile gracing my lips as I realized I could become the greatest thief of all time.
Yet it was the last gift that truly made me giddy.
Power… or as I knew it, the fucking Force.
I was going to be a space wizard.
A BLOODY SPACE WIZARD!
—
It was thankfully a Sunday, which meant I didn't have to clock into my pizza delivery job, which I was going to quit, because what kinda Jedi delivers pizza? Not this one, that's for sure.
Despite my squalor, I actually had quite a bit of money in my savings, mostly from my parents life insurance from selling all the things we used to own.
Enough money to live for two years as I am currently — given that I continue my frugal existence.
Apart from my soon-to-be ex-job, I also had school. What school you may ask?
The one and only Midtown high, which I was thankfully on scholarship for. Turns out I'm pretty smart in this world, at least enough in programming and engineering. B+'s for most subjects and A+'s for my core two.
Hmm… I wonder if having a connection to the Force is going to make me smarter?
Additionally, from my fused memories I found that I was the same age as Peter Parker, both of us just freshly in our sophomore year, which meant that he wasn't Spider-man yet, probably, we've never talked.
Should I steal his fate?
…
I shook my head, although I wasn't against messing with the "plot" of the world, stealing the mantle and responsibility of Spider-man from Peter just seemed like a hassle. Not to mention the whole multiversal shenanigans that came along with it. I really didn't see myself as a hero, that much was sure, could I let the man who killed a loved one walk free? To leave my revenge in the hands of a justice system that blatantly failed at every turn? No, I don't think I could.
Talking about plot, from my memories Stark is already Iron man, and Captain is already awake — though only as of recent.
My mind swirled with all the incoming events, a shiver running down my spine at the thought of getting snapped out of existence by Thanos. Did I feel lucky enough to flip that universal coin? To leave my fate in the hands of a bunch of 'heroes?'
Not quite. It hadn't been an hour and I was already feeling the stress of the impending chaos, the people I'd have to kill, the plot that'd have to change.
Somethings needed to happen, I think?
Whatever, cross that bridge when it arrives.
*DING!~~
The chime of an old microwave rang throughout my tiny apartment. I sighed as I pulled out the hot-pocket before taking three steps to sit back on my bed.
Despite my newfound fantastical reality, the stark contrast of my immediate reality sank in.
It was all still just potential.
I looked down at the steaming hot-pocket. With a single thought, a mere twitch of my new metaphysical muscle — the hot-pocket vanished — not a sound, a spark of magic or disturbance in the Force registered its disappearance.
A small lingering wisp of steam rose into the air; warmth leaving my fingers as I grasped nothing but air.
I grinned and opened my hand, and with another simple flex of will the steaming hot-pocket reappeared.
Oh so much potential…
—
After my luxurious lunch I took to the floor, sitting cross-legged with my eyes closed.
The first thing I felt was my back ache, I was clearly in need of some daily stretching.
Then I felt it.
A connection.
I shuddered as every cell in my body began to resonate with the world around me.
I felt lighter, more in-tune with the world around me — as if, everything was within my grasp. I felt, powerful.
Oh this is totally going to my head.
But I couldn't help it. The sensation was euphoric, like I was above everything and everyone.
Then my nose scrunched, a disgusting immaterial 'scent' found its way through my connection with the Force.
I literally began to smell the regret in the air; spoiled milk and the sour throat-burning stench of sadness, sprinkled with hints of despair.
"This is fucking vile." I couldn't help but mutter.
The Force was obviously more than mere telekinesis, but feeling it first-hand was another experience entirely.
It was a double-edged sword that I'd have to wield cautiously, as I quickly began to feel overwhelmed.
With a groan I let out a harsh breath and pulled my mind away from the connection. The world whipped back numbing reality — the cacophony of suffering crawling back to my neighbors' apartments.
Unfortunately a lingering scent remained. My connection to the Force now running at the back of my mind.
I sighed.
This is going to take some getting used to.
—
Dressed in a grey hoodie and jeans I left my apartment an hour before sunset.
My pace brisk and my hood pulled over my eyes, I made my way to a nearby sports outlet, Johns Sporting Goods.
I stepped into the sterile smelling store, turning and giving a curt wave to the dead-eyed man at the counter.
He barely registered my existence, jutting his chin towards a small security screen above him as if to say:
'Don't try anything sketchy.'
I smiled and pulled down my hood to ease the man, to which I received a stern nod.
With casual steps I made my way through the aisles before finding a large tub of tennis balls.
Here we go.
I dug my hand into the tub, not too deep — just enough to hide the usage of my Storage.
I felt my ability activate, the fuzz of the tennis-balls disappearing one after another until my hand resurfaced with three balls.
I dropped one back in, turned, and continued searching through the aisles as if nothing happened.
Honestly, despite my outward demeanor I could feel my heart beginning to pump in my chest. I thought I'd feel a pang of guilt, but all I felt was a building exhilaration giving rise to a dumb grin.
I'll buy one or two cheap things, to clear any potential suspicion.
—
Right as the sun began to set I returned to my apartment. It was good timing too because I saw and felt a number of shifty figures begin to appear. I could feel the burning of eyes tracking me from the shadows along with the coppery scent of greed.
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding as I stepped back inside, the reliable thud of my deadbolt sliding back into place.
I walked to my bed and waved my hand through the air, emptying Storage and taking sight of the fruits of my labour.
A number of tennis balls, some small weights, exercise bands, a whole ass aluminum baseball-bat, and other miscellaneous items.
With little effort I began attaching lengths of string to the tennis balls, then I attached the ends of the strings to my paint flaking ceiling.
After I finishing I gave a wry smile at the makeshift training setup.
As great as getting the Force is… I didn't get the how-to training manual along with it.
All I had were my memories of the franchise, some odd comics here and there and good old human ingenuity.
The ability I wanted to begin honing immediately was Force Sense. The bread and butter of a Force Sensitive.
As I didn't have a Jedi master or droid to fire laser-bolts at me, I settled with strung up tennis balls and small weights.
With childish glee I wrapped a t-shirt around my eyes, robbing myself of my vision. I took a deep breath and calmed myself.
I let the Force flow through me. My senses began to heighten, my ears twitching as I heard the mumbling of voices through the walls, the passing of a cars' rusted exhaust and the moans of lust a couple rooms over.
Ugh, I did not need to hear that.
With a slow step forwards I moved. My nose twitched as I felt a soft pressure spread across my face. I let the Force guide me, trusting my instincts I tilted my head.
The pressure vanished and one of my eyebrows quirked up.
I titled my head back and the pressure returned. I couldn't help and grin. I titled my head and walked forwards.
I took off my blindfold and turned to see a tennis ball directly behind me.
Fuck yeah.
For the next hour I walked around my makeshift maze like a madman. As I continued to practice I felt my sensitivity slowly increase. The napkin-like pressure shifted into a more refined cone-like shape. I began to feel the obstacles from further away, then multiple obstacles at the same time.
My pace increased from a slow walk to a normal pace, until I began to take sudden strides, my head twitching left and right like I was possessed by some horror demon.
After I felt confident in my maze-navigation abilities I began pushing the tennis-balls, letting them freely swing towards my face.
I began to lean and dodge, feeling the soft rushes of air as I felt the tennis-balls pass by me. The cone-like pressures began to move in my minds eye, like tracers in the dark they rippled through my Force Sense.
A surreal sensation washed over my skin as I felt two tennis-balls collide and abruptly change direction. My head tilted to the side, before I suddenly stepped backwards to avoid another ball then half-spun to dodge another by the skin of my teeth.
My hand shot out to catch a ball, a shiver ran down my spine — an overwhelming feeling of certainty flooding through my veins. I just knew the ball was going to perfectly land in my hand, even before I felt the ball with the Force.
The ball lightly smacked into my palm as I clawed my fingers over it. My left hand then shot up to smack another ball away.
Pre-cognition?
It felt like the Force was pulling my senses into the future.
It feels, fucking amazing.
—
I unsurprisingly trained far too late into the night. Being pulled out of my trance like reverie by a pang of hunger and a subtle building headache.
I took off my blind-fold and panicked for a moment when I saw that it was 2:34am. Not for lack of sleep, but because I realized I didn't do my homework!
Oh god I still have to do homework even after transmitigating, maybe this is all a cruel joke after all.
In the wake of my frantic scribbling, another DING of a microwave dinner and a late-night shower — I found only two hours of sweet sleep allotted before I had to catch a forty minute bus-ride to school.
I opted to just meditate instead.