I've always carried this dream.
It wasn't a phase; it wasn't some childhood fantasy I would someday grow out of. It was a fire stitched into my bones, silent but relentless. No matter how many birthdays came and went, no matter how heavy the world pressed down on me, the dream stayed.
It started small.
A kid sitting cross-legged on a worn carpet, flipping through battered comic books, the sharp scent of old paper and ink thick in the air. Outside, the world was gray, tired, crumbling at the edges. But inside those pages? Inside those pages, everything lived. Heroes clashed against impossible odds. Villains rose and fell in tides of blood and ambition. Antiheroes stalked the night, broken but unyielding.
And somewhere deep inside me, without even realizing it, a question took root: What if I was there? I didn't just want to watch them. I didn't want to stand behind the glass, reading about lives I could never touch. I wanted to fight, to bleed, to rise. Unlike most, I didn't pick a side. I loved them all: the heroes who carried the hopes of a broken world, the antiheroes who clawed through the dark, dragging themselves forward one scar at a time, and even the villains who dreamed too fiercely, tearing everything down to build something new.
Superman's unwavering hope. Batman's grim resolve. Magneto's righteous rage. The Punisher's endless, bloody crusade. It wasn't about right or wrong; it was about will — the refusal to bow, no matter the cost. Maybe, even then, I understood something about myself: I wasn't made for perfect light or endless darkness. I was something in between.
I didn't dream of faraway galaxies or enchanted kingdoms. No elves, no dragons, no distant stars. Just two worlds. Two names that meant more to me than anything else: Marvel and DC. Worlds where dreams fought nightmares, where power was earned in blood and belief, where the impossible was bent under the weight of stubborn will.
People told me I'd outgrow it, that one day, life would beat the dream out of me. They were wrong. The dream didn't die; it grew heavier, sharper, brighter, until it became the only thing left untouched by the world's decay. I carried it with me through every broken friendship, every sleepless night, and every moment spent staring at cracked ceilings while whispering silent prayers for something — anything — more.
And when it finally happened, it didn't come with trumpets. There was no flash of divine light, no voice from the heavens. Only silence. One heartbeat, I was lying in bed, the weight of another wasted day pressing down on me. The next — the world crumbled into dust. There was no room, no bed, no walls, no ceiling. Only darkness — endless, breathing darkness, alive with a low hum that vibrated through my bones. Silver threads of light floated through the black, weaving paths across the void like veins in the skin of a god long asleep. The air felt heavy, ancient, sacred.
And then, without warning, a voice — clear, mechanical, absolute — spoke inside my mind:
[System Initialization: Complete.]
[Detected: Dreamer Frequency — Full Resonance Achieved.]
[Inquiry: You who have dreamed so long... do you wish to cross?]
It wasn't a hallucination; it wasn't a dream. It was real. The choice pressed down on me like gravity, but there was no fear. This was what I had been waiting for, what I had been living for. My voice came out steady, without hesitation:
"Yes."
The silver threads twisted tighter, spinning into a massive door of shifting light and shadow. The air trembled, thick with energy that prickled against my skin. The system's voice returned, emotionless but somehow filled with expectation:
[Selection Required: Choose Your Starting World.]
[Available Options: MARVEL / DC.]
[Note: Only one world may be chosen at this time. Future expansions will unlock upon progression.]
Marvel. DC. Two legends. Two lifelines. But even standing between them, I knew my answer before the system finished speaking. Something inside me burned brighter when I thought of Marvel — the chaos, the grit, the endless wars between gods and monsters hidden among men. My voice cut cleanly through the darkness:
"Marvel."
[Acknowledged: Marvel Universe Selected.]
[Finalizing Transfer.]
[Prepare for Dimensional Crossing.]
The door pulsed once, slow and deep, as if drawing in a breath. The pull grew stronger, wrapping around me and pulling me toward the threshold. No more dreaming. No more wishing. No more staring through glass at a life I could never touch. This was it. This was when the boy with comic books and cracked ceilings became something else entirely.
I stepped forward, without regret, without fear. Into Marvel, reborn. Into a world I would not just live in — but a world I would make my own.